A journey into identity {Sula's Voyage by Catherine Torres}

Holding the banner high for literature from my homeland.

About Sula's Voyage by Catherine Torres: Fifteen-year-old Sula has always known she is different. Even though her parents have shown her nothing but love and acceptance, she sees her dark skin as a reminder of how she doesn’t fit in with the rest of her family.

What’s worse is she also feels that her parents are hiding something from her. After getting expelled from school, Sula reluctantly goes to stay with her mother’s friends. There she unexpectedly finds herself on a journey of self-discovery — a journey that keeps drawing her to the sea. Sula must not only figure our her parents’ secret, but also just how different, and possibly magical, she really is.

My two cents

Sula is an unusual child. She knows she is different because of her dark skin, of her strange abilities, and because she knows her parents have a secret that is somehow linked to her.

I must admit that I am biased. I knew that this book had a Philippine twist to it because it is written by a Filipino author. That in itself appealed because I wanted to read more Filipino literature, I want better representation of my country. But it got much, much better.

When I first started it—after much affection for the beautifully illustrated cover and matching bookmarks—I was much more fixated on the magical and mystical side of things. I was fixated on the possibility that Sula was a mermaid - after all, why did she have these strange powers? What were her parents hiding about their sea voyage on a traditional sea vessel back when they were still young? And what, if any, did that have anything to do with Sula's origins?

As the story started to round out, I was pleasantly surprised at how the mystical was woven into a highly nuanced tale of self-identity. This delves into the culture and practices of the Sama Dilaut, an indigenous tribe in the Philippines, better known as sea gypsies. I grew up knowing this tribe locally as Badjao (more here). I think that this is truly the heart of the story, a melding of the mystical with culture, history, and dare I say it, harsh reality.

Now, what made me extremely curious was Torres's personal connection with the Sama Dilaut story. I was rewarded at the end in her acknowledgements where she recounts that in elementary school, she was fascinated with this tribe's seafaring traditions and their dependence on the sea. She recalls that one practice was the throwing of newborns into the sea so they could learn how to swim.

I felt a little like that with this story - it has reminded me that I have only scratched the surface of literature from the Philippines. In this sea of global literature, I think it's only fair that I exert some effort in hearing the stories from my homeland.

Verdict

From unusual names to unpredictable storylines, here's a book that surprised me! This is one of my fave finds for the year — full of mermaids, sea gypsies, life out on the open sea, many inexplicable things and secrets all around. Yes, it's all that and more. If you're looking for young adult reading with plenty of surprises thrown in and with a cultural twist, then this is it. To be honest, even the paranormal in this was palatable to me! A truly unique read and I'm happy to recommend this to everyone.


This book was provided to me by the author for review consideration.

Pinoys, start waxing poetic {Mariposa Gang and Other Stories by Catherine Torres}

Vignettes of alienation. Vignettes of Philippine life.

Synopsis of Mariposa Gang and Other Stories by Catherine Torres: A maid packs her bags after learning that her employer values her less than a murano vase. A young man enters the priesthood when he is spurned by the woman he loves and is sent on a mission to the backwaters of West Bengal. A pampered heiress goes on exchange study in Tokyo to prove her independence and finds herself stuck without heating in the middle of winter. A seaman avenges his daughter and is banished to a penal farm, where he spends his days catching rare butterflies. These ten stories by Catherine Torres are about women and men navigating various forms of exile, and recovering, or discovering, ‘home’ in surprising, often startling, ways.

My two cents

When I was contacted by an author -- who also happens to be Filipino like me -- I couldn't resist. She sent me two of her books for review consideration. This is one of them.

This is a book that made me immensely sad. As an immigrant, my heart goes out to the many men and women who leave their homeland in search of a better life on foreign shores. But this collection takes it one step further because it is not just about being transplanted in a foreign land, but a foreign environment in general. Torres's short stories capture the feelings of alienation, of loneliness ... but of an even stronger longing for a better life. I often wonder about the paradox of economic success and stability at the expense of the deterioration of social values and structures. It is a reality many face daily.

These are vignettes of life, of the sad reality that "home" is not always where we want it to be. A tough "can do" attitude can get one very far indeed. But deep inside remains that need for connection, of familiarity to one's surroundings.

One big thing about these stories is the nostalgic sense of place that Torres is able to infuse, in her easy mentioning of places or situations or memories or sights and sounds of the Philippines. It's enough for any immigrant Filipino to start waxing poetic.

***

Quick thoughts about each story:

Mariposa Gang metaphorically captures the fleeting nature of life. A prisoner, in jail for stabbing his daughter's lover, joins a team that catches rare butterflies to be sold for the highest price. The butterflies are as elusive as the happiness he so desires.

The Sema highlights the deterioration of a marriage in a honeymoon to Turkey, surprisingly, with the beginning of a new friendship.

Mannequins depicts two young women, roommates and polar opposites, both escaping poverty and a lack of prospects and now struggling to make money in various odd jobs in Singapore.

Gilt-Edged Shadows hones in on the immense beauty that is possible only when breaking the rules. A paradoxical tale of how not giving into the new trends produces results one can be truly proud of.

The Haenyeo of Korea (photo from here)

Hibernation takes place in the dead of winter in Japan with a female student coming for the free food at a student gathering. The event reveals a departure of a professor and a realization of the departure from her own ideals.

Blown Glass shows the heartbreaking paradox that in the subjectivity of the meaning of value in two very different cultures, things often hold more value than life.

Man of the Cloth is the quest of a young and idealistic Filipino priest for true meaning in his life, from the revolutionary to the altruistic to the settling into his calling.

Plunge is how a young Filipino husband immerses himself in the family, the culture and the life with his Korean wife, with a fascinating interplay with a backstory of traditional female divers of Korea (or Haenyeo).

The Bag Lady is a tale of the unlikely transformation of Filipino beauty queen and into a maid and bag lady in Singapore, and of a relatively content woman into one full of regret.

Cafe Masala is a Filipina's new business as she returns to her homeland from India.

Verdict

Succinct, emotional tales of immigrant hearts. Truthful, real, and meaningful. Read it!

Which of these short stories interest you?

Book Depository*

A copy of this book was provided to me by the author for honest review consideration. All opinions are mine.

The Summer Solstice and Other Stories by Nick Joaquin #booktrailadvent

Philippine folklore, religion, history packed in 3 short stories.

Synopsis of Summer Solstice and Other Stories by Nick Joaquin*: Widely regarded as the greatest Filipino writer of the 20th century, Joaquin continued to write literary and journalistic pieces until his death on April 29, 2004, at the age of 86. Stories in this volume: -The Mass of St. Sylvestre -The Summer Solstice -The Order of Melkizedek

My two cents

I am trying (trying being the operative word) to get more Filipino-penned books on my reading list, as well as reviewed on this blog. With The Book Trail's Advent, I thought it was a perfect opportunity to turn the spotlight on a book penned by a Filipino and set in the Philippines. (This book seems to be hard to find if you're not in the Philippines. I've scoured Amazon, Book Depository and a few other mainstream online book sources and there are so few places to buy this!)

I really enjoyed this collection of three very Filipino stories, all very different, by National Artist of the Philippines for Literature, Nick Joaquin. He is on my list of top Filipino authors ever since I read his short story collection May Day Eve which I absolutely pored over and gave me a better appreciation for my roots.

I am quite excited to share with you some of my thoughts on the stories in this collection, and thereby share a piece of my own culture and history.

The Mass of St. Sylvestre

Setting: Intramuros, Manila, Philippines

The first story, The Mass of St. Sylvestre, in all of eight pages, is a brief history of the emergence of folklore of how pope and confessor St. Sylvestre, whose feast falls on the last day of the year, appears on earth, opens the gates to the archiepiscopal cities, leads a grand procession and celebrates the first Mass. 

Touted as classic Filipino New Year's story, this is part history and part religious lesson melded with the folklore of Old Manila.

Folklore crosses into the mystical and magical when an American soldier, stationed near the ruins of Manila post-war in 1945, shares his recollection of the grand procession in Intramuros in all its glory ... only to realize that what he had witnessed was a mere illusion, or maybe a hallucination.

The detailed descriptions of the procession, the small trivia associated with the ceremony, and of course with a little bit of a folkloric twist, make this short story packed to the rafters for the reader. 

The setting is an important one as it takes place within Intramuros, which translates to "Walled City" in Spanish. The Philippines was a Spanish colony for over 300 years since the 1600s. Intramuros is a hub - the location of the country's capital Manila, guarded by the city's citadel Fort Santiago. It is also the location of many churches, including San Augustine Church, designated as a World Heritage Site by UNESCO.

I have personally been to Intramuros many times and there is so much history to take in as one wanders around centuries-old Fort Santiago, the cobblestoned roads of Intramuros, and the beautiful San Agustin Church. I think the following Google Street View tours will give you a better sense of this:

San Agustin Church, built by the Agustinians in 1571.


Cobblestones streets in Intramuros



Baluarte de San Diego, a stone bastion in Intramuros.

The Summer Solstice

Setting: Paco, Manila

The Summer Solstice is a short story about the Tadtarin, a three-day fertility ritual held during the summer solstice. This pre-Hispanic religion celebrates the erotic woman and her dominance over man. The last day of the festival coincides with St. John's Day, highlighting how Catholicism and pagan religions are melded in Filipino belief systems.

A scene from Tadtarin, via Philstar Global

Taking place in the 1850s, Lupeng and her family are set to visit their grandfather on St. John's Day, only to discover that her cook Amada is in a frenzied sexual state. Lupeng speaks to Amada's husband Entoy, who is positively scared of Amada despite it being implied that he wields a heavy hand on his wife. Lupeng learns Amada participated in the Tadtarin ritual and that she is "possessed" with the spirit of the Tadtarin.   

The family runs into the St. John's procession en route, which features an all-male group carrying the image of St. John the Baptist. Lupeng later talks with Guido, her husband's cousin visiting from Europe, who had observed both rituals. Lupeng's modesty and subservience - a mark of a refined woman at the time - is challenged as Guido suggests Lupeng participate in the Tadtarin and even makes a point of it by kissing her feet in adoration. 

Lupeng joins in the final night of the Tadtarin and finds herself tapping into her inner woman. She wields her newly-found (or simply dormant) power of her husband, who reluctantly yet acknowledges and yields to her.

This is a story of juxtapositions - of the passionate female Tadtarin with the male arrogance of St. John's procession, of the power of women over men, of bucking the convention of male dominance, and a return to the primal over societal conventions. 

I thoroughly enjoyed this for its exploration of themes despite its simple storyline. The strong feminist message will likely resonate and challenge readers to understand the precarious balance in which we are in constantly. 

Links:

• Wikipedia: Summer Solstice
• I Talk Too Much - The Summer Solstice
• Women celebrate superiority over men
• Pista ng San Juan

The Order of Melkizedek 

Setting: Manila, with mention again of Intramuros

The third story, The Order of Melkizedek, is a mini-novella which surprisingly reminded me of a Dan Brown novel. It opens with toothbrush in hand at the Philippine airport, balikbayan Sid Estiva is kidnapped. Stumbling upon a conspiracy which preys on rich matrons and young, impressionable revolutionaries, Sid seeks to expose the inner workings of a secret society headed by a purportedly centuries'-old prophet, Melkizedek.

In a suspenseful turn of events, Sid's investigation is with littered death, pagan religions, plenty of Biblical backstory, suspenseful interviews and confrontations, including the involvement of his own younger sister, Guia. This is partially set in the churches and convents of Intramuros.

I enjoyed this for its exploration of traditional religions with Catholicism and how they can co-exist and even meld together. I also found fascinating the folklore of a man living over centuries, which I know is quite common across cultures.

Of the three, I liked this the least only because I felt it dragged on too long in comparison to the succinctness of the others. I also found some holes in the investigation and wondered how Sid was so easily able to come to making non-obvious connections.

Links:

• Wikipedia: Melchizedek

Verdict: This is a crash course in Philippine folklore, religion, and history packed in three short stories. As a Filipino, it gave me a newfound appreciation of the richness of my culture. I encourage everyone to read this, whether you want to read more diversely, want to discover a new Filipino author, or simply read outside of your usual fare. Happy travels!

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Nick Joaquin
Via

About Nick Joaquin
Nicomedes Márquez Joaquín (May 4, 1917–April 29, 2004) was a Filipino writer, historian and journalist, best known for his short stories and novels in the English language. He also wrote using the pen name Quijano de Manila. Joaquin was conferred the rank and title of National Artist of the Philippines for Literature. He is considered most important Filipino writer in English, and the third most important overall, after José Rizal and Claro M. Recto.

Cave and Shadows by Nick Joaquin

Enter. 

About Cave and Shadows by Nick Joaquin*: A classic from National Artist for Literature, Nick Joaquin, Cave and Shadows was first published in 1983, and this literary whodunit is still considered a must-read by students of Philippine Literature. The novel is set in motion by a mysterious death, and thrust onwards by the search for truth and the solution of the crime. Joaquin expertly weaves multi-layered meanings by interspersing Philippine historical fact with fiction. In the end, readers discover faith, truth, and human nature.

My two cents

I've only read Joaquin's short stories and have gotten a feel for how he melds Philippines folklore with history. This novel explores both, surprisingly within a political and religious whodunit.

The story opens rather surreally with protagonist Jack Henson in his hotel. Is he hallucinating when he sees a a naked girl walking by with a crab on leash? The weirdness continues as Henson's true mission is revealed: he wants to find out what really happened in a young woman's death in a cave that has a reputation for the mystical.

At the risk of making this convoluted, I wondered at how this whodunit unravelled as it takes one from pagan folklore, to religious fanaticism, to political vengeance, then is dashed with some romance, seeped in Filipino cultural references, and a lot of nationalism. It's a highly unusual and a packed book.

I liked

There is a lot going on, I admit, and at times I wondered where all this was going. Somehow it comes together quite nicely. You can never get bored.

Just how Filipino this is! I can't help but admire that Joaquin awakens a fierce sense of pride in the Filipino identity with his writing. If you're Filipino, I urge you to read this novel. I can see why this is recommended reading for Philippine literature. If you're not Filipino, then I urge you moreso to dip your toes into Philippine lit via this novel; at the least you'll be intrigued and appreciate the cultural richness of this novel. 

The exploration of religion figures quite heavily. There is paganism which was the dominant pre-colonial religion, then the heavy Roman Catholic influence under Spanish rule. This is then overlaid with the folklore and mythology which crosses over between pre-colonial and Catholicism; these little substories are woven into the plot which I thoroughly enjoyed, giving this novel such an otherwordly feel.

The whodunit wasn't as predictable as I expected it to be since there were shades of the supernatural that made me second guess myself.

Uh-ohs

The romance parts were slightly sappy but I kept reminding myself that this was written in the 1970s and Filipinos are apt to melodrama. I didn't quite like the dialogues which leaned towards slightly corny, and at the worst preachy (I remember rolling my eyes at one point because a certain line exasperated me).

Verdict: A worthy Filipino read which captures the intriguing worlds of pagan and Catholic religiosity in a nationalist whodunit. Enter the cave and discover it for yourself.

Book Depository*

May Day Eve and Other Stories by Nick Joaquin

Of eves and virgins and daughters and mothers ... and the men in between.

My two cents

May Day Eve and Other Stories is a book of short stories by Filipino author Nick Joaquin, a National Artist of the Philippines for Literature. I got a copy during a trip back to the Philippines. I read this and was quite blown away by each of the stories and because I needed the time recover from "book lag" following an impressive read, I let my review languish.

I decided to reread this and get this review up for #Diversiverse. I love showcasing authors from my country and hope you get a chance to read this and other works by this amazing author.

***

I felt homesick reading this. Nothing compares to reading a book written by an author coming from your own country, talking about your own realities rooted in cultural references that you'll "get." Obvious really, but I didn't really realize it until I finished this.

This slim volume of just 100 pages contains five short stories. Each story is succinct and pithy, and has a bit of a "wow" to them which makes me appreciate how gifted a writer is Nick Joaquin. They deal with the double-edged sword that is family, love, religion and faith, and tradition. They are all set during the Spanish colonial period which spans 300 years, vestiges of which strongly influence Filipino life today.

One strong theme is the role of the women. While they are not always front and centre in these stories, they show woman in all her multi-faceted glory: meek and submissive, rebellious and decisive, vengeful and exacting, forgiving and loving, and how they are a critical piece in family histories.

Here are my quick takes on the stories:

Three Generations is a tale of three generations of the men in the Monzon family, bringing into sharp focus machismo, the heavy influence of Roman Catholicism, tradition and the rather twisted dynamic of family relations and familial duty. It ends in bittersweet self-realization towards acceptance.

It opens with Celo being informed by his wife that their son Chitong wants to enter the priesthood. In the same breath, the wife also berates Celo for not visiting his authoritarian, difficult and rather promiscuous father. Family drama culminates when the three generations come together in one room, revealing childhood hurts and abuse, deep regrets and... and the strange reality that history often repeats itself.

Doña Jeronima is a love story and folklore-in-the-making. Set in the 17th century, this is the secret love story of the powerful Archbishop of Manila. A man known for his piety, he was once an overzealous man who quelled his worldly ambitions, vowing his life to the church after a life-changing year shipwrecked, stripped of worldliness in total isolation on a Godforsaken Island. He had gained a semblance of legend in Manila, having been saved twice over by God.

His past life makes a reappearance when a strange woman appears in his church ... the woman he loved, who he spurned for the church who now demands recompense. The Archbishop spends the rest of his life treading the line in honoring two vows.
 
Doña Jeronima won a Don Carlos Palanca Award in 1965.

The Legend of the Dying Wanton is a poignant mother-esque and son story that highlights the power of piety and faith. Currito Lopez, a young Spanish soldier seeks the blessing of a devout elderly churchgoer Doña Ana de Vera as he hies off to join the troops in Cavite. Miraculously, he is found, impossibly so, as the sole survivor of the disastrous shipwreck. He becomes a devotee and credits the miracle of his life to Doña Ana de Vera's intercession of the Virgin Mary and the child Jesus. 

May Day Eve is the namesake of this collection and is based on the old wives' tale that one should look into the mirror at midnight on May Day Eve (April 31st) to see the face of the person you are to marry -- but there is a risk, as you may see the devil or a witch instead! This is a heartfelt, heartbreaking piece on youthful desires, of growing old, of love and of regret. This is the shortest of the lot, yet really packs a punch! Curious? I found a copy of this short story here online! 

Guardia de Honor weaves magical realism in this tale of a family heirloom of emerald earrings. Multiple generations and timelines converge as the wearer of the earrings prepares to serve as the Guardia de Honor at the Virgin Mary feast. I found this a fascinating take on how generations can impact on the decisions of the those in the future.

Verdict: I highly recommend this collection of short stories by renowned Filipino author. Each story is a gem with its unique take on family life, love, and faith during the Spanish colonial period in the Philippines. I hope you pick this one up!

Nick Joaquin
Via

About Nick Joaquin
Nicomedes Márquez Joaquín (May 4, 1917 – April 29, 2004) was a Filipino writer, historian and journalist, best known for his short stories and novels in the English language. He also wrote using the pen name Quijano de Manila. Joaquin was conferred the rank and title of National Artist of the Philippines for Literature. He is considered most important Filipino writer in English, and the third most important overall, after José Rizal and Claro M. Recto.

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1940s Philippine history in a prostitute's story {Ermita by F. Sionil Jose}

1940s Philippine history in a prostitute's story.

Synopsis of Ermita by F. Sionil Jose*: Ermita as the major character in this novel, was first introduced in F. Sionil Jose's novella, "Obsession." Fabulous prostitute, a woman wronged, she is now exposed in her exquisite nudity, surrounded by people like her, Eduardo Dantes, publisher, Senator Andres Bravo, General Bombilla, socialite Conchita Rojo, and Rolando Cruz, Ph.D. in history turned public relations specialist.

Ermita is the story of an enclave of privilege and affluence, and the putrefaction of a society. Here is Manila-before 1941, during the tumultuous years of the Japanese Occupation, and the corrupt Marcos regime.

My two cents

This is the life story of Ermita Rojo, conceived of the brutality of the First World war when a Japanese soldier rapes her well-to-do socialite mother Conchita. Seen as a blight on the illustrious Rojo family's name, she is shipped off to a convent and brought up among other unwanted, orphaned children. Conchita escapes to America to forget the pains of the war.

Ermita or Ermi grows up among the nuns and she is happy and hopeful that she will soon be adopted ... until she discovers the reason why she is passed over until her teenage years: she is the daughter of the Rojo family. She threatens the nuns that she will run away, to seek out her mother and this forces her aunt, Felicitas, to take her in.

Ermi is taken into the family to be educated at an exclusive girls' school yet all the while serving as a maid to the Rojos and living in the garage with the other servants. She finds her a "real" family with the aging driver and his wife, and their son MacArthur. Mistreated, impoverished, and denied her heritage, Ermi's hatred of the Rojo family grows. This is the life story of her revenge.

***

I had the best intentions of reading more Filipino literature. So I bought a few novels the last time I visited the Philippines (sooo long ago) and Ermita was among them. But I've been failing miserably: count them, one, and this is two. Pathetic progress considering I felt that this should be a personal mini-project of mine.

In the year that has passed though, I've discovered that more Filipino authors are now on amazon.com, which really bodes well for those looking specifically for them, or those who want to expand their reading territory. I'm all for reading more diversely and getting access to these "obscure" books in in the international maket this makes it much easier. (I put obscure in quotation marks because F. Sionil Jose is far from being obscure in the Philippines).

What I liked 

Just because it's penned by a Filipino author. I am biased. Just the fact that this is written by the venerable Filipino author F. Sionil Jose, well-known for his stories about class struggle and colonialism in the Philippines, makes this on my list of to-reads.

History and culture isn't rammed down your throat. Who likes a straight history lesson? If you're Filipino, you'll probably get it. Otherwise, to get the full benefit of this novel, including the places mentioned, the allegories and the occasional off-colour humour and pokes at Filipino politics, you'd need a minimal background of Philippine history, politics and social strata. I think a quick gander to Wikipedia will fix that.


Ermita Church, 1900s
From Manila Nostalgia

Sinner/saint? It's intriguing, too, in my mind that the title of this books refers to both a person and a place in Manila. The term Ermita is pretty loaded too; it has religious roots:

La Hermita, the Spanish word for "hermitage", after the fact that on this site was built a hermitage housing an image of the Virgin Mary known as the Nuestra Señora de Guia (Our Lady of Guidance). The hermitage has since evolved into Ermita Church ..." (from Wikipedia)

Juxtapose this with how the character Ermita prostitutes herself in order to rise out of poverty. In the present-day, Ermita became infamous as a red light district. I am suspecting that this study in contrasts is open to some deep analysis, symbolism or allegory -- I simply find it an interesting and thought-provoking juxtaposition, definitely worthy of some good discussion.

Uh-ohs

I have a slight distaste for this novel. I felt like I was in a bit of a time warp reading this. I suspect that if I had read this in the 1990s, I probably would've loved it. This has shades of activist messaging, and it is slightly romantic in its espousing activism and having a heart for the poor. It's a snapshot of a bygone era, though I admit it still has heavy relevance today.

If you love your melodrama, this has got it. Think telenovela. It's also quite formulaic: poor mistreated girl becomes rich and famous, plots revenge on those who mistreated her (very heavy-handed in the revenge side).

Lastly, I was slightly turned off by the weird quasi-sexual-philosophical musings and the erotica. Given that this is about a prostitute, I guess I should've been more accepting, even expectant, but there were sections that bordered on weird and slightly distasteful for me.

Verdict

A biting commentary on Philippine society pre- and post- World War II, as brought to life by the story of a woman who rose up out of poverty. A worthwhile read if you`d like to learn more about Philippine history and society.

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Gagamba: The Spider Man by F. Sionil Jose

Of Philippine society and the great equalizer. 

Synopsis of Gagamba: The Spider Man by F. Sionil Jose*: Gagamba, the cripple, sells sweepstakes tickets the whole day at the entrance to Camarin, the Ermita restaurant. He sees them all-- the big men, politicians, journalists, generals, landlords, and the handsome call-girls who have made Camarin famous. In mid-July 1990, a killer earthquake struck and entombed all the beautiful people dining at the Camarin. Gagamba could have easily gotten killed -- but he survived the earthquake as do two other lucky people who were buried in the rubble. As told by the Philippines' most widely translated author, this novel raises a fundamental question about life's meaning and suggests at the same time the only rational answer.

My two cents

Called Gagamba, he resembles his namesake (gagamba means "spider" in Filipino) with his disfigured body, large head and long arms. He stations himself in front of the entrance of Camarin, a well-known Spanish restaurant (and cover for selling women's bodies), making a living by selling sweepstakes tickets to those who pity him and those who have deep pockets.

Gagamba and the people working behind the scenes such as the waiters and call girls, are juxtaposed with the wealthy and powerful Camarin customers: politicians, military men, religious folk, expats, among others. In the end, there is no difference between Gagamba or the moneyed. The earthquake at around 1:00 p.m. is to become the great equalizer.

***  

This book is among my buys from my last trip to the Philippines, in an attempt to boost my reading about my homeland. (I admit I am not doing very well in this challenge!)

This is not a linear story. It opens with a chapter about Gagamba, and thereafter, each chapter marches out as a back story of a Camarin customer, all ending with that person entering the restaurant just moments before the killer quake.

I thought this was an excellent way of presenting the social strata of Philippine society. It highlighted the extreme differences in power and economic status and the woefully sad state of corruption and of the abuse of power. It also put a sharp focus on what matters to a Filipino: family, education, a good job, and a better life.

For those unfamiliar with the workings of Philippine society, the depiction here is grim, exaggerated, and seemingly oversentimental. For those who know and have experienced it, the depiction is sadly realistic and sobering. Jose doesn't sugarcoat the immorality of decadence and corruption, he exposes, he taunts, he provokes his readers to face up to these grotesque happenings in his country.

But this isn't all gloom and doom. There is a certain sadness and poignancy in pointing out these truths ... like someone pulling your hand out of a flame. Only by not turning a blind eye can any realization or action come out of these stories. Because in the end, sans all power and money, death is inevitable.

Verdict: A collection of vignettes of any man and any woman in the country that is the Philippines. I highly recommend it to all Filipinos,  F. Sionil Jose fans, and especially those who are simply just those interested or curious about the Philippines and its people.

About F. Sionil Jose

Francisco Sionil José was born in 1924 in Pangasinan province and attended the public school in his hometown. He attended the University of Santo Tomas after World War II and in 1949, started his career in writing. Since then, his fiction has been published internationally and translated into several languages including his native Ilokano. He has been involved with the international cultural organizations, notably International P.E.N., the world association of poets, playwrights, essayists and novelists whose Philippine Center he founded in 1958.

F. Sionil José, the Philippines' most widely translated author, is known best for his epic work, the Rosales saga - five novels encompassing a hundred years of Philippine history - a vivid documentary of Filipino life.

 In 1980, Sionil José received the Ramon Magsaysay Award for Journalism, Literature and Creative Communication Arts. In 2001, Sionil José was named National Artist for Literature. In 2004, Sionil José received the Pablo Neruda Centennial Award. {Via}

Read more about him on Wikipedia.

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Ilustrado by Miguel Syjuco

This feels like a huge inside joke. And being Filipino drives home the punchline just like an arrow to the heart.

About Ilustrado by Miguel Syjuco*: It begins with a body. On a clear day in winter, the battered corpse of Crispin Salvador is pulled from the Hudson River—taken from the world is the controversial lion of Philippine literature. Gone, too, is the only manuscript of his final book, a work meant to rescue him from obscurity by exposing the crimes of the Filipino ruling families. Miguel, his student and only remaining friend, sets out for Manila to investigate.

To understand the death, Miguel scours the life, piecing together Salvador’s story through his poetry, interviews, novels, polemics, and memoirs. The result is a rich and dramatic family saga of four generations, tracing 150 years of Philippine history forged under the Spanish, the Americans, and the Filipinos themselves. Finally, we are surprised to learn that this story belongs to young Miguel as much as to his lost mentor, and we are treated to an unhindered view of a society caught between reckless decay and hopeful progress.

My thoughts

The book in one sentence: Young Filipino writer Miguel Syjuco seeks the truth about the death of his mentor Crispin Salvador and his missing last manuscript, and in the process shares with readers elements of the Filipino identity.

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I'm a Filipino. Born, raised and lived in the Philippines for most of my 30 + odd years. I migrated to Canada shy of 2 years ago. My appetite for Filipino literature has been limited, though I have read the compulsory Noli and El Fili and have enjoyed F. Sionil Jose, Lualhati Bautista, Gilda Cordero-Fernando -- but mainly because it was hip to do so in university and in the NGO circles. It's ironic that I started book blogging because I wanted to expose myself to more genres of literature and read writers from various cultures, but never really looked in my own back yard. My bad.

I guess being in another country was the push for me to truly appreciate the idiosyncrasies of being Filipino, and finally read this much talked about book! I first read the review of Ilustrado by Blooey of this young Filipino writer who with his debut novel takes home the Man Asian Literary Prize. Then during lunch break this 2011, irony of ironies, my Canadian co-worker tells me that their book club is reading Ilustrado! 


So hunker down to read it I did. And I surprisingly discovered that so many things resonated with me.

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The story opens with the brutally murdered body of literary legend, Crispin Salvador, pulled put of the Hudson River. Young Filipino writer Miguel Syjuco turns detective when he learns of the death of his mentor .... and Salvador's missing last manuscript, a controversial exposé of the crimes of powerful political clans. Syjuco who is US-based, returns to the Philippines to seek out Salvador's friends and relatives, anyone who can shed light on the mysterious circumstances of Salvador's tragic murder. And so Syjuco decides to write Salvador's biography.

In uncovering Salvador's venerable (yet deliciously tainted) past, we also gain insight to Syjuco himself. Why Ilustrado? What is an ilustrado? Both our main characters are ilustrado in their own generation -- belonging to the elite, the moneyed, the influential, the educated. Salvador is known as "the panther" in the Philippine literary scene, descended from a political clan hailing from sugar country Bacolod. Meanwhile, Syjuco is the grandson of a powerful politician and businessman who seeks his own place in the world as a writer.


While the overall story line is nothing outstanding in my mind, the story unfolds in a non-conventional manner, and there is of course some strange twist that awaits you. The book alternates in telling the stories of Miguel Syjuco and Crispin Salvador. There are too many parallels in their lives to ignore. We glean an understanding - in two different generations - of what it means to be a Filipino living abroad, the difficulties of breaking into the literary scene, and the politics and family dynamics of being an ilustrado. And with the unfolding of their life stories spans a surprising arc of 150 years of Philippine history, of colonial rule under the Spanish and the Americans,  the struggle to regain footing as a nation under a dictator of over two decades, to the present-day of how many EDSA People Power revolutions (what number are we up to now? In the book we're up to 5.)

***

Syjuco's storytelling style does takes a little getting used to. He tells the story through a mishmash of:

• excerpts from Crispin Salvador's various novels, writings, and his autobiography, 
• hi alter-ego Miguel Syjuco's memoirs, emails to family members, and even phone SMS/text messages (oh, did you know that Filipinos are infamous texters?!),
• newspaper clippings, blog entries,
• jokes throughout about the common Filipino, sometimes silly, sometimes ribald, but I'm sure if you grew up in the Philippines or surrounded by Filipinos, you would have heard some version of it.

There is a lovely cultural richness when Salvador's novels are excerpted, so convincingly real - a realistic melding of the real and Syjuco's imagined. For example, Lupang Pula (Red Earth) which was published in the US, chronicles Huk uprisings during the Japanese occupation in the Philippines. Master of the Seas is about how early Filipinos held their own against Spanish conquistadores. Dahil Sa’yo (Because of You) is an account of Marcos dictatorship - it is also the name of the highly popular kundiman (the classic Filipino love song) which is a self-professed favourite of Imelda Marcos. The Kaputol (Brothers) trilogy, while a coming-of-age story, takes us into the Martial Law Era. I also found interesting that Salvador has a story which heavily references Philippine folklore including kapre [giants] and dwende [dwarves]. And  it would be a disservice if he didn't have a crime-busting character somewhere -- he doesn't disappoint with a sit-com-like/old Filipino movie-like episodes starring Antonio Astig and company!  

It's these teeny-tiny details, that's what makes this book so Filipino. There are tongue-in-cheek pokes at modern Philippine life - ranging from politics, to remonstrances about the place of Philippine literature, to the mundane but horrible and very real possibility of getting caught in flashflood in a car (yes, this has happened to me!). I felt like this with Little Women and Anna Karenina, both of whose storylines paled in comparison to the teeny-tiny details which gave me such a rich understanding and "right-there" feeling about the milieus of the books.

Verdict

This whole book is an inside joke. For every Filipino, whether now in the Philippines, a balikbayan, or living abroad, you'll see some aspect of the joke, and can't help laugh along with Syjuco. For the curious non-Filipino, this is an adventure into the Filipino psyche, and you'll come away with a better understanding why Filipinos are who they are, what the Philippines as a nation is today. There is actually much to laugh about. Laugh with the Filipinos, because that is our trademark for our survival as a people.

Book Depository*