AT the end of Makbara, published in 1980, Goytisolo refers to lectura en palimpsesto,' an unconsciously accurate description of his own novel, a document that has been written upon before with remnants of earlier imperfectly erased writing still visible. In his earlier works he, a self-described literary outsider, prevailed through his sincerity, satire, and even apparent sadism. In this latest novel, Goytisolo, now an established international writer, has created a parody of himself and his fiction, composed from the detritus of his public pose as an enfant terrible and from the solipsistic reflection of fantasies born of his own inner needs. Morbidly preoccupied with internal states, he externalizes them with apparent great daring, but they fall within societally (in 1980) acceptable if somewhat repulsive limits. Goytisolo, in Makbara, repeats what he has done in his previous fiction, that is, he blends literary allusions, psychological symbols, and linguistic forms (together with a critique of religious, political, social, and sexual institutions) in order to convey a fragmented concept of reality through which his inner vision may encroach on the surface logic of the reality we all know. Goytisolo incorporates once more his psychological apprehensions, his womb fixation, a return to mother, castration fears, homosexuality, bodily secretions, scatological and sadistic imagery, attacks on the institutions of society, a plea for sexual freedom, and the figure of the pariah, a standard component of his gallery of grotesque psychopathic deviates.2 His protagonists reiterate the theme of the suffering hero who faces a dangerous world where justice and understanding are non-existent and which rejects the lonely unfortunates with whom Goytisolo identifies. He thus justifies his own sadistic attacks which, through the veneer of the stylistic innovations and ironic contrasts found in all of his novels, become elevated, at times, to a poetic and fantastic realm above external reality. Goytisolo frames his histories of love, real and imagined, devoted primarily to a single entity, through the device of a narrator who cannot affirm the veracity of any specific version of the many he is telling about the earthly stay and loves of a fallen angel. The narrator, described as a juglar, with the habilidad de poeta (M., p. 49), sells dreams to the gathered listeners in the market place whom he uses as a kind of chorus for his fable of Paradise and the world. An angel, unable to accept the heavenly bureaucracy to which it is subjected, is expelled and soon discovers the same frozen, petrified society in the Occidental world; for democracy is not liberty. The angel's only salvation lies in the experience of true earthly love which will free it, since sexual revolution and freedom imply political freedom,3 an appetency involving the modification of society. Through its encounters with society's rejects, the author once more criticizes contemporary institutions, drawing a parodic parallel between structured religion's concept of heaven and life on earth.