Las obras de Carlos Liscano, detenido en la cárcel Libertad, durante la dictadura militar en Uruguay (1972-1985), parecen restituir la vibrante tensión de un discurso antagónico que juega su partido decisivo en contra del poder, de la institución carcelaria y de las ideologías que la estructuran. Elementos imprescindibles de un recorrido tal son los ‘objetos ausentes’ que, como pases entre una dimensión y la otra de la escritura - la del testimonio directo y la de mayor complejidad literaria – constituyen puntos de acceso a todo su imaginario poético. En este trabajo analizaremos la función de estos dispositivos mínimos – pero fundamentales en la escritura de Liscano– sobre todo en Lector Salteado (Vida del cuervo blanco, 2015), texto en el cual es posible observar ese proceso de ‘memoria, resistencia y creación’, que permite al hombre seguir existiendo en condiciones de profundo sufrimiento y privación. Objetos simples, entonces, que en las existencias normales casi desaparecen, se vuelven, en la cárcel, metáfora de una resistencia profunda. Su existencia por medio del lenguaje capaz de evocarlos, su poder ser in absentia, determina un ejercicio constante que permite al detenido el único posible camino de salvación. La oralidad y la escritura que evocan determinadas ausencias se imponen como instrumentos de la mente que no puede aceptar la falta de referentes reales y que construye un microcosmo de signos, a menudo compartido con otros prisioneros, pero también destinado al discurso obsesivo de una individualidad aislada y frágil: al laboratorio secreto de un escritor que se está formando, al complejo proceso de lectura, escritura, transcripción y reescritura que Liscano lleva adelante.The works of Carlos Liscano, detained in Libertad prison during the military dictatorship in Uruguay (1972-1985), seem to return the vibrant tension of an antagonistic discourse that plays its decisive game against power, the prison institution and the ideologies that structure it. Essential elements of such a process are the ‘absent objects’ that, as passages between one dimension and the other of writing - that of direct testimony and that of greater literary complexity - constitute access points to all of his poetic imagery. In this essay we will analyse the function of these minimal devices - but fundamental in Liscano's writing - especially in Lector Salteado (Vida del cuervo blanco, 2015), text in which it is possible to observe this process of 'memory, resistance and creation', which allows man continues to exist in conditions of deep suffering and deprivation. Simple objects, then, that in common life almost disappear, become, in prison, a metaphor of deep resistance. Their existence through language capable of evoking them, their possibility to be in absentia, determines a constant exercise that allows the detainee the only imaginable way of salvation. Orality and writing that evoke certain absences are imposed as instruments of the mind that cannot accept the lack of real referents and that builds a microcosm of signs, often shared with other prisoners, but also destined to the obsessive discourse of an isolated and fragile individuality: to the secret laboratory of a writer who is being trained, to the complex process of reading, writing, transcribing and rewriting that Liscano carries out.The works of Carlos Liscano, detained in Libertad prison during the military dictatorship in Uruguay (1972-1985), seem to return the vibrant tension of an antagonistic discourse that plays its decisive game against power, the prison institution and the ideologies that structure it. Essential elements of such a process are the ‘absent objects’ that, as passages between one dimension and the other of writing - that of direct testimony and that of greater literary complexity - constitute access points to all of his poetic imagery. In this essay we will analyse the function of these minimal devices - but fundamental in Liscano's writing - especially in Lector Salteado (Vida del cuervo blanco, 2015), text in which it is possible to observe this process of 'memory, resistance and creation', which allows man continues to exist in conditions of deep suffering and deprivation. Simple objects, then, that in common life almost disappear, become, in prison, a metaphor of deep resistance. Their existence through language capable of evoking them, their possibility to be in absentia, determines a constant exercise that allows the detainee the only imaginable way of salvation. Orality and writing that evoke certain absences are imposed as instruments of the mind that cannot accept the lack of real referents and that builds a microcosm of signs, often shared with other prisoners, but also destined to the obsessive discourse of an isolated and fragile individuality: to the secret laboratory of a writer who is being trained, to the complex process of reading, writing, transcribing and rewriting that Liscano carries out
