There is one question that always sparks great conversations among language learners:
What is your favourite word?
I’ve heard some good answers from English learners, like:
- Shenanigans
- Kerfuffle
- Flannel
And some good ones from Spanish learners too, like:
- Empalagar
- Friolero
- Rompecabeza
I always pause, carefully considering my answer, wondering why I feel such pressure riding on my choice.
But recently, one word has pushed past sobremesa as my favourite:
Duende.
What does it mean?
This is where I’ll bow out and leave it to the artists to describe the feeling of ‘duende’:
Inside the cuevas of Sacramonte
“Duende is when you dance and forget the world — and the world forgets everything but your dance.” - Cristina Hoyos (flamenco dancer)
“Duende is what makes your soul ache when art touches something you forgot you carried.” - Anon
Finally, from the mind of the man who reimagined the meaning of this Spanish word, Federico Garcia Lorca:
“The duende is not in the throat; the duende climbs up inside you, from the soles of the feet.”
Lorca wrote an essay about the word and believed duende is not something you learn - it's something that takes hold of you, often born from pain, darkness, or a deep connection to life and death. It’s the muse that lives inside you, not outside. No need to walk to the end of the earth to find your duende; it's been with you all along.
What Is Duende, Originally?
Before Lorca, duende in Spanish folklore referred to a kind of mischievous spirit or goblin, like a house elf or woodland trickster - the kind of creature who hides your keys or makes strange noises at night.
But Lorca didn’t choose the word by accident. He could have chosen something grand and poetic like alma (soul), pasion (passion), or fuerza (force). But he chose duende, a word rooted in the caves, taverns, and backstreets of Andalusia. It wasn’t born in books or lecture halls. It came from the cante jondo tradition — a phrase to describe the deep, aching songs of flamenco singers. Songs or singers were described as having more duende when the world seemed to melt away by the emotion in their voice and the words of their song.
It was a word that didn’t come from books inside libraries or from linguistic professors with curly moustaches. It is a part of the human experience that can't be dissected, touched or stolen by another human being.
Another reason is that duende carries risk, and many other words simply don’t capture this moment that exists on a knife's edge. Like any art, there is always the possibility that your audience won’t connect with what you’ve created. You may have to pay the ultimate price for revealing yourself; shame, humiliation, indifference, ridicule and maybe even death.
For most, it isn’t worth taking that chance.
AI-generated Duende goblin
Why did Lorca see a need for such a feeling?
Because he saw a world, especially in the arts, that was growing too clean, too clever, too detached.
He saw people choosing style over feeling.
He saw performance without soul.
And he believed something human was being lost in the name of progress.
Foucault's Use of The Panopticon Applied Here...
Foucault used the panopticon (a prison design where inmates can be watched at any time without knowing when) as a metaphor for modern systems of power and control.
His point was: we no longer need to be watched to behave. We’ve internalised surveillance of ourselves and others. We self-censor, self-regulate, and perform according to what we think is expected of us, because we believe that we are constantly being seen. What has been lost when we know we're always being watched? We drive with cameras on our dashboards. We have cameras catching our every move on most street corners.
We are always one raw emotion away from going viral.
This is the shift that I imagine Lorca wanted to put a name to, and, in many ways, is even more relevant today.
Where do you find Duende?
It’s like that idea in quantum physics - when we know a particle exists, but a simple act of observing it changes its behaviour. As soon as you try to measure it, it slips out of its original state. The moment you want to analyse it, define it, or pin it down, it changes - or even disappears.
It can only exist in the raw, unfiltered experience, not under the spotlight of performance, perfection or intellectualism.
The Spanish may have given a name and cultural shape to this very intense emotional force, but in no way is duende exclusive to Spain. The experience itself, the deep human connection to sorrow, beauty, and mystery, belongs to everyone.
How does Spanish culture make space and time for duende?
From the matadors of the bullfighting arenas who flirt with the line between life and death, to the fiery flamenco dancers of Andalucia, to the dramatic theatrics you’ll witness during Semana Santa (Easter), to the spontaneous singing circles that fill the atmosphere at ferias, the Spanish are experts at making time for duende. You’ll most likely hear people talk about the slow pace of life here, the late night dinners, the ‘ahorita’ attitude. Many northern Europeans will be quick to draw comparisons in productivity between their own countries. Don't listen to them.
I believe there’s still work that happens during the slower pace of life. It may not be happening in Zoom meetings, office spaces or swanky networking events, but it is still happening. The rhythm is different and the clocks tick to the tune of their own drums here.
Parque Federico Garcia Lorca - Summer house in Granada
My last question… but this one’s for you.
In what ways does your country make time for duende? Consider:
- Do you have lots of public holidays?
- How does it treat the homeless?
- Does your city have a lot of street art and other non-advertising visuals to look at?
- Do people show up to support displays of indigenous and cultural art forms?
- Is finding a public bench to sit on in your city like trying to find a needle in a haystack?
Final thoughts
The irony hasn’t escaped me; I am aware I have broken the first rule of duende: I wanted to understand it.
However, in a sort of paradox, as soon as I tried to understand what can only be felt through self-expression, I inadvertently opened just enough space for it to enter.
Not beautiful.
Not flawless.
Just true.
Duende Around Spain...
