Fernando Nachón considers himself to be “a psychopath, a vicious, a social scourge, a depressive, a filthy bourgeois, a playboy, a sadist and an anti-Christian.” His literature is nourished by these characteristics until it becomes an overflowing river of black water that, paradoxically, purifies the author and whoever dares to read him. In Nachón, masks exist not as objects that hide the true personality but as a crystal that reveals multiple internal facets. Fernando Nachón’s work is a spit in the face of that false “normality” that proposes order and productivity, but that deep down hides authoritarianism and exploitation. The author has an impressive narrative force and, in terms of poets, is simply explosive.