Lozada–Oliva’s poem reminded me of my experience with my first language. For context, my family moved to Canada when I was 3 and my first language was Slovak. I eventually stopped speaking it at home (most likely when I was around 8-9 years old) and I am now no longer able to speak it.

If I were to try to speak it, my first language would be grasping for words that would never come. They simply don’t come to mind. Even if I knew the right words, I wouldn’t know where to begin when it comes to putting them in order or conjugating verbs. I’d be reaching out for knowledge that seemingly doesn’t exist. Even the most simple sentences seem impossible to say. I’d be able to say more in languages that I’ve actively tried to learn and/or have taken classes in.

But if I were to hear it, I would understand a decent amount. And if the grammar was very off, there’s a decent chance I might notice. The knowledge that seemingly doesn’t exist, in some ways, actually does. To me, it is not a language that I see/hear in the media, in writing, or from anyone outside of my family. To me, it is little memories and fragments rather than a way of communicating.

At several points throughout “The Crazy Woman and the Tale of the Crime,” the concept of justice is viewed by the characters as discardable and/or unachievable. Some have the privilege of being above justice, such as Almada, who is “being protected by the higher-ups” (pg. 561). Others aren’t so lucky. Rinaldi is certain that Antúnez is the criminal; he claims that he “can smell a criminal from a hundred yards” and that “they all have the same look” (pg. 561). Labeled as a “gigolo,” Antúnez’s access to justice is denied based on his social status and his “look” as a criminal (pg. 560-561). Risking trouble with the police is, according to Luna, not worth it “to save a gigolo” (pg. 563). Even when faced with evidence of his innocence, his social status is used against him to justify allowing him to be “stuck in the can for the rest of his life” (pg. 563).

Antúnez is not alone in being denied justice based on his social status; the refusal to publish the identity of the real killer allows Larry’s death to remain unavenged. Furthermore, in reference to Larry, Luna claims that “in the long run those crazy women always end up like that” (pg. 563). This outcome is seen as common, and moreover, acceptable – it’s thought of as inevitable that this would happen to someone like Larry. This perceived inevitability, rather than being challenged, is used as justification for forgoing justice.

Justice is viewed by Luna as too great of a risk – it’s something that one might have to ruin their whole life to strive for (pg. 563). According to him, it’s something that should be shrugged off; he suggests that Renzi “take the day off” and “go to the movies” (pg. 563). Pursuing justice for the sake of those of low social status is considered unreasonable; the forgoing of justice is therefore seen as inevitable.