Imago Prima

Abstract

In Imago prima, Alí Calderón (1982) takes up the torch lit by the legion that came before him that first image emerging from a cavernous, liturgical past, a secret pulse sensed among the books, the murmur of the underground river pulsing through the writer’s fingers: words belonging to others, to everyone, which theory, in one of its polished cages, has locked away under the name of intertextuality. Calderón, with professional skill and clear writing, manages to place Carl Gustav Jung in the ever-symbolic and rocky territory of poetry. In his verse, he reveals a discovery: the cage has become a bird.