How does one navigate the Teu Cor after joining the “crucible to start the mascletà”? What occurs to the Teua Pell as the opening notes of L’Himne de les Fogueres la nit de la cremà begin to sound? And what about the feeling that comes when the companion participates in the taking part of the “Bellesa del Foc” at Plaça de Bous? If a person hails from Alicante and holds a spark of passion, these scenes are likely etched in collective memory. Yet perhaps the fins are not what they once were, but rather a synthesis born from something previously combined with a constructive element: Valencia.
Indeed, at the start of the last century Alicante’s popular culture wore a distinctly Valencian hue, and language among the common people flowed naturally. Over time, however, our tongue faced marginalization and dilution from personal linguistic memory. Now, in an era when culture often shifts toward Spanish and English, there is a call to safeguard both the use and the culture of Valencian within Valencia. The Fogueres celebrations play a central role in this effort.
Within one collective, the Fogueres Commissions, rooted in a participatory and fraternal spirit, promote and preserve linguistic practice through identifiers bearing the tag Comissió. This identity has grown as the Fogueres name merged with the city’s own tapestry, expanding rapidly in recent years. Examples include Fogueres Com Port d’Alacant or Pla del Bon Repós-La Goteta, terms that may seem unfamiliar in a direct translation yet resonate in the Alacantí collective imagination alongside mascletà and banyà, echoing the motto Tot per la festa. Translations into Spanish of the commissions’ slogans and their quarters are occasionally contemplated in private circles.
Furthermore, the Commissions carry a mandate to safeguard and promote Alicante’s culture, a living archive of the city’s history and the experiences of its neighborhoods, expressed through the notes in their booklets and other artifacts. Acknowledging the importance of these traditions, much of the textual material printed in Valencia—together with monument descriptions and the accompanying satirical panels—helps the terreta reclaim its traditional humor. This authenticity marks a distinctive facet of Alicante’s popular culture.
On the other hand, the theater and ceremonial saints add another cultural strand that reflects Alicante’s ongoing concerns. The saints’ traditions of the city shed light on current social life and, through performances not bound by formal literary conventions, fuel an unyielding critique of the Festa and celebrate Valencian culture. This intertwines people with their linguistic roots, a living link to the city’s voice. As the Commission members stage performances, audiences readily identify with their own surroundings, laugh at themselves, and remember that this is one of the festival’s enduring languages. Valencian language remains not only present but also expanding.
Perhaps this is why the past two years without Fogueres felt heavy, given how central the festival has become to Alicante’s defining symbols. It is a symbol that many feel belongs to the Alicantean community—a sense of possession that has persisted for nearly a century and which now seems ripe for revival. If there is a path forward, it might lie in recognizing Valencian as an inalienable cultural cornerstone—an identity that speaks through feeling and fosters pride in Alicante. For many, Fogueres is a living proof that Valencian is more than a tradition; it is a dynamic element of daily life that binds people to place and memory. The deeper message endures: Fogueres carries Valencian identity forward, and the people understand that language and celebration are inseparable.