When Wendy Dumps Peter Pan and Creates Her Own Neverneverland

I know this is running quite late. And I know it’s not a very good example. But hey, if you have to check n (no. of blogs) plus x (no. of exams and critical papers from other classes) within y (the given limited time) multiplied with the effort you have to expend dealing with z (no. of pathetic arseholes who have nothing better to do than meddle with other people’s lives), you’ll understand.

But enough of the excuses and let me just get down to it. I have yet to write about my insights of Hidalgo’s “The Tale of the Spinster and Peter Pan.” And before I forget, one of the reasons why I procrastinated on writing about this text is my disappointment with the report. [Collective gasp: What report?!] Yup, hindi nakapag-report para sa text na ito. Sayang, maganda pa naman sana. Tapos hindi pa nagbasa ang klase ko. Aach. Sarap magmura. Oo, magmura, dahil tao din akong naiinis.

Anyway, among the list of texts in the PHILLIT syllabus, “The Tale…” is my most recently read story. I had to read it as an exercise in formalist criticism, around 3 months ago, in a class taught by Ma’am Jing Hidalgo herself. I knew, as I read it, that there are glimpses of her own life here and there (of course, that is quite inevitable). Seeing that movie in my mind where the character is Ma’am Jing herself, makes me wax nostalgic for old films like “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” or “Casablanca” or “Sabrina.” Of course, for the record, Ma’am Jing is happily married, has kids and an active (as I see it) social life.

The story runs on irony. The woman writes for beauty and lifestyle magazines when her life is itself devoid of such frivolities. She fosters a flourishing career in writing romance novels when in reality she scores zero in that department. Her interest and imagination is finally, truly perked by this magical creature—the guy who sings for a rock band—and I suspect she really did fall for him. Or at least, she yearned for him. In the end, she (as well as we, the readers) gets a reality check when Peter Pan turns out to be some jaded guy with a dirty mind trying to make some money by pimping himself. Very crude.

Because the story is so beautifully written—an essential characteristic of tales—one might be led to think that the character is “kawawa naman” all throughout. But I look back on other stories, back to Ms. Mijares in “The Virgin” and Pilar in “The Corral” and I definitely think that this spinster babe is better off than those earlier two. Why? Because in the end, no matter how miserable the situation seems to be, the spinster had a choice. She chose dignity and she stood by her impervious ideals (no matter how unrealistic they were for a woman living in the city).

And it was a choice she made indignantly, deliberately, gracefully.

okay, sharing time

hi. i was sorting out the piles of paper on my desk and dug up several poems i wrote some time ago. a few of them i've edited with the help of friends from the faculty (thanks ms. alona, sir ver) and from UP (hey dennis, U, mike, amy!).

yung isang tula ko parang may pagka-related sa theme ng Games and Document. gusto ko lang i-share sa inyo, mga minamahal kong estudyante sa Phillit (kahit minsan-minsan pinapa-high blood nyo ako) at sa mga sumusubaybay sa class blogs namin. i invite you to start sharing your creative works online.


Silent mode

Sa tuwing tumutunog ang cellphone ko,
palatandaang naiisip mo pa rin ako
na i-text, kumustahin,
Nagha-hang ang utak ko sa pag-iisip ng marereply—
Na hindi makapag-papaasa
(na maibabalik pa)
pero di din naman gaanong suplada—
na tutugon sa simple mong tanong.
Tugon na hindi mag-a-alert
Sa mga alaalang nakabaon.

Sa pagsagot ko ng “ok lng,
kmusta din? ü"
Mas natatakot akong ma-wrongsend
Kaysa sa ma-misread
Ang txt na kung sa signal ng iba
Mapasa, mapadala…
Lintek!
Siguradong unlimited na away
debate,
tampuhan,
at iyakan
Ang nakatakda, ang gulo
dahil sa isang inosenteng akto
Ng pagha-“hi,helo, howru ü.”

Mas mabuti pa kayang ‘wag na lang
Magparamdam, magpa-misscall.
Kunwari na lang mejo walang signal,
Check op na, o puwedeng na-PUK ka,
Puwede ding na-snatchan sa Calamba.
Tutulungan pa kita
sa pamamagitan ng pangde-deadma.

Mahirap nga lang sa ngayon,
Sa panahong bawal ang makaluma
Sa panahon ng malupit na teknolohiya
Sa panahong mahirap kumawala sa napakaraming
mata
bibig
at tenga.
Lahat ay abot kamay,
Abot tanaw,
Nasa dulo ng daliri.
Lahat maliban sa tunay na nadarama.

The games people play

The last couple of stories have lent me a very important insight about the modern human being. Because of today’s advancement, all these implements and institutions we have made for ourselves lead us inevitably to playing games—those that we play on or with others, and games that we play on ourselves. The woman in Games cannot risk exposing herself for fear of losing someone she loves, or for the fear of getting hurt because of love. But in the end, it is this reluctance to take risks (or to take things seriously) that led her to discover that other people also hold back on things that she ought to know. Why? Well, I don’t quite get. They try to prevent themselves from getting hurt but do get hurt anyway so what’s the point.

As for Document…well, I appreciated the way it was discussed in class. Now I understand a bit the motivations of the character. The discussion finally confirmed my suspicions about the character here…the he really is a pathetic loser. I’m sorry, okay, I’m basing this on first-hand experience. He reminds me so much of this guy who danced circles around me for two damned years. Maybe it was partly my fault, but I swear I did my best to show to him that I was bloody “interested.” I came this close to spelling it out for him. But he kept playing this mind game—this parinig/pahaging/paramdam game and I got so tired that one day I just decided to change my number, move out of UPLB and move here to DLSC without leaving a forwarding address, and never ever tried to get in touch with him again. Sometimes I wonder if he’s still alive, or if he ever wonders if I’m still alive. But that’s that. The end.

I have just added another year to my age and got to thinking of what I have learned so far about life. Some people would say it’s too early to think about those “morbid” kind of things. I have so many years ahead. They’re bluffing. I’m sure they’re pretty much aware how fragile life can be. I know a lot of people, some of them my friends, who have died so early on in their lives. (In fact, just a few minutes ago, my bother’s ex passed away due to kidney failure, the causes of which are still unknown. You’ve probably seen her. She attended the battle of the bands last February 11, perhaps to cheer for El Guitarista.) I think that ever since I’ve gotten tangled up in all these complicated systems of human interaction (groups, cliques, organizations), all these grown up things (jobs, policies, money stuff, romantic relationships), all these media technology (cellphones, internet, etc.) I have felt like I was treading on uncertain grounds. I felt like I always had to watch my back, ward off deception or people who want to con you, to hurt you, to get the better of you.

The authors of Games and Document did not give too many clues as to the nature of their characters for us to figure out easily from the world of the text why they think or act or feel that way. They did not give away to many things because they might have assumed that the background we needed is in us, in our own experience. A person of about our age, of our nationality and heritage, is kin to insecurity and alienation. He or she is bombarded with consumerist ideologies in media telling him/her that having him/herself alone is inadequate. He/she should buy more to feel better about him/herself. And so it is that we put on clothes, and masks, and gadgets to hedge us from the embarrassment of exposure. And so it is that we assume our own worlds rather than risk what’s left of our fragile self-esteem by going up to someone to say or ask something in honesty.

One of the best stories of my life…

It sucks to have to write this again. I had this reaction typed a couple of days ago, the one about Estrella D. Alfon’s “Magnificence” and Edith L. Tiempo’s “The Corral.” And then my flash drive suddenly wont work. Aaach. Sometimes, as with most things, technology can be a pain in the @*s. I didn’t feel like writing it all over again, but I realize that I have to do that in order to get to the next assignment: “Games” by Noelle de Jesus and “Document” by Luis Katigbak.

So, here it goes again.

I wrote down that the female characters in the last two stories are more privileged (especially in Magnificence) the earlier ones. The Corral might have ended (still) tragically, but at least Pilar had a choice, or a semblance of a choice. She had the convenience to let go of her job to support her father in a business venture (a fish corral), she had the upperhand there for a moment when she turned the persistent Mr. Perfecto down (eligible as he might be for women in her situation), and she had it in her to attract and play around with men like Gregorio if she pleased. But, of course, Pilar was not as hard-pressed as perhaps Tinang and Ms. Mijares were. Pilar had the luxury of choosing “love” over practicality. She wanted more than a Mr. Perfecto or a Gregorio could offer. She wanted the kind of romance that “ideals” can give (i.e., “the dress,” the sensuality, the thrill). In the end she realizes she cant have her cake and eat it, too—eat it still. I think she will end up with Mr. Perfecto after all.

On the other hand, Magnificence is in a league entirely of its own. I think that the story is so well-written that it goes beyond one’s sensibilities to go one talking aloud about it. The best part in our class discussion of Magnificence seemed like those parts when we were just sitting there in moments of silence and contemplation. Sitting there and marveling at how human beings can actually be capable of such magnificent strength in the face of adversary. Sitting there and wondering if we ourselves could ever demonstrate that kind of self-control and dignity and composure under such terrible conditions.

I enjoyed sharing Magnificence to my students, and enjoyed even more their reactions and insights. Literature is best understood collectively, in the light of a multitude of individual personal experiences. I know I might not know everything there is about literature, or know it in this lifetime, but its stories like this that make me want to be a lit student (and teacher) for life.

Plight

We have started our discussions on the works done by the women. The female characters in the stories by Aida Rivera-Ford & Kerima Polotan were miles different from the female characters in the stories of Joaquin, Arguilla, Arcellana and Gonzalez. They were different in that they were not as empowered by either their social status, wealth or beauty.

Tinang, in Love in the Cornhusks, is beset by feelings of regret for an unfulfilled promise, a relationship that never got past the stage of expectation. A love letter that came really late is the story’s source of irony: it is the bearer of lofty ‘what-could-have-been’s. But of course, like a character in a Greek tragedy, Tinang doesn’t notice that, which makes the reader pity her more (or at least, I did). In the end she stops her wishful reminiscing and snaps back to cruel reality—of what-is and what-will-always-be. Then life sweeps her once more towards the mundane chores of a Bagobo’s wife. She is unhappy in her marriage. It seems not to be her choice, maybe because women like her, in the kind of society and time she lives in, are given very few choices. More often, they succumb to the conventional roles they are all “fated” to have (at least in the story’s context).

On the other hand, Ms. Mijares in The Virgin may seem luckier than Tinang since she holds a position of authority and earns and decent living. She is respected (or feared) by people for her power to give them their own decent jobs. Sadly, she is oppressed by the conventional obligations that society imposes on daughters (and youngest siblings), and most especially by the prevailing “old maid” cultural stereotype.

What I find most tragic about these characters is that the only viable solution to their condition is found in men. Men are the only conceivable salvation and respite from the invisible but powerful ideological pressures imposed by the patriarchal system. Tinang might have married the Bagobo out of convenience, to save face, against her will. Ms. Mijares perceives her virginity (never been touched by a man ever before) as a liability and therefore chooses—no, surrenders to the man in the end, not because she loves him. She just has to.

I don’t find it ironic that it is the women who would have these kinds of characters in their stories. If anything, they were merely being honest about the plight of the Filipina, especially in these writers’ milieu. I do hope that things are considerably different right now. I hope that its not just me who thinks women have a lot more choices now, that women aren’t just passive victims of the usual circumstance.

The stories can tell that, and I can’t wait to get to the contemporary writings by women.

The Anti-hero, The Devil & The Witch (Part II)

I am not sure where my students’ motivation came from when some of them nodded their heads in agreement to a comment posted in class: that eventually, husband and wife will realize that they are married to the devil and the witch. It was a cynical assessment of marital relations which might be grounded on solid personal experience. But I do hope that we all prove this wrong when our own time comes.

Another good remark I got, during our animated discussion of Nick Joaquin’s May Day Eve, was that textual us of the terms “devil” and “witch” indicated that these were at that time the colloquial counterpart of “bastard” and “bitch” respectively. Just like the term “screw” back then didn’t mean gratuitous sex. On the other hand, the use of the images of the devil and the witch in this story called forth archetypal signifiers that made it a lot more cryptic—and yet, familiar. The catholic imagination filters anything pleasurable and beautiful and luxuriant as tempting and therefore evil. Not surprisingly, the central characters in May Day Eve were both young, good looking, at the prime of their (sexual) lives and therefore teetering on the edge of sin. Which brings us to why evil is often represented as a beautiful temptress or as an extremely attractive man always ready to seduce you, or even as a highly coveted, rare object that can give you power, prestige or wealth (think Friday the 13th, Bedazzled, etc.)

Anyway, this doesn’t apply to surreal/magic realist literature alone. Deception happens all the time, everywhere, in real life. And, of course, because it’s supposed to deceive you best beware of it in the most unlikely places, circumstances and people. If you’re sensitive to the signs, you’ll see it. At the present I am aware that some self-righteous person has been deceiving me—doing some surreptitious defamation, backstabbing me and yet that person [with a serious case of “messianic complex”] has the gall to act all nice and friendly around me. That kind of person is even worse than someone who shows me outright detestation.

It just proves that people who think they’re the saints and saviors of the world are actually the demons and dimwits that plague it.

next reading assignment

Please read "Love in the Cornhusks" by Aida Rivera-Ford. Jonah Lopez will be facilitating the discussion on the text.