The Anti-hero, The Devil, The Witch (part I)

The “coming-of-age” theme has always held great appeal among people especially when rendered in art and in literature. Its enigmatic power to stir the emotions is grounded on myth; and myth being the collective dream, imbued with forces that make us act the way we do and feel the way we do.

I always go back to one of my first loves in literature, Joseph Campbell’s The Power of Myth, since it’s inevitable to talk about archetypes whenever we talk about myth. And the archetypes that the recent stories we have taken up in class touch upon three of these maaaaany (“meni meni meni…” as my auntie used to say) archetypes found in literature, visual arts, film, religion, dance, etc. There’s our young hero/heroine coming of age, the devil and the witch.

Our inherent knowledge or affinity with these archetypes is what aids us in our understanding, if not appreciation, of art despite the language barrier, unfamiliar writing styles and complicated literary devices. Some readers in class might have found NVM Gonzalez’s language superfluous, perhaps as a way of supporting the “I” point of view via extreme subjectivity. The world is seen through the eyes of a fourteen year old boy deliriously in love with a coconut baron’s niece.

At first I may have scoffed at his sappy, gooey, melodramatic daydreams, which I know comes inevitably with unrequited love. But the condescending attitude in my head towards the character might perhaps mirror how I had been condescended on when I had been at that stage, and calls to mind how painful it was to be shaken out of romantic and idealistic notions of life. Put simply, everyone goes through that transition from childhood to adulthood, and it takes a lot of pain to be able to leave the “childish” things behind. We all know what its like to be losers at some point in our lives.

Alright I’ll stop for a moment before I post to my reaction to May Day Eve. Baka may ma-stroke, mahirap na. Oh, by the way, as regards reading its best to believe in the old age adage: practice makes [one]...better, if not perfect.