Protacio, 38

Garo man nanggad ribo-ribong dagom an duros ngonyan na banggi—siring sa ginhalâ niya saimo kaidto.

Tinuturusok kan kada panas an pusikit mong kublit; kinikiriblit ka; pinapasalingoy na paminsaron mo idtong mga aldaw na dai kamo nagpopondo kangingisi. Kawasa ika an saiyang pirming binabangít—sa kapikunan na naturalisa mo, ika man biyóng naiingít; minangiriil sa sinasabi tungod sa imo kan bâbâ niyang matabil.

An pagkamoot abaanang kapeligroso. Tibaad igwa kamong namate sa kada saro poon kadto—kung kaya an puso mo nawaran nin diskanso. Siya man nagparalagaw, nagparatrabaho; kadakuldakul inasikaso; garong an iniisip nindo pirmi kun pâno makapalagyo.

Mayo na siya ngonyan; sa mga kabukidan kan Kabikolan, igwang kung anong kapaladan an saiyang napadumanan; sarong aldaw sa Juban, kaiba kan saiyang mga kasama, siya tinambangan kan saiyang mga kalaban.

An parasuba sa buhay mo nagtaliwan na; mayo nang maolog-olog kan saimong ngaran; mayo nang malapaskan saimong mga kanigoan; mayo nang malangkaba kan saimong kamahalan. Bwelta ka na naman sa pangabuhi na tibaad igwang kamanungdanan.

Sinurublian sa Hiligaynon 
ginhalâ, sinabi
paminsaron, pag-iisip
naiingít, nababalde
bâbâ, nguso
makapalagyo, makadulag
nagtaliwan, nagadan

Second-rate, Trying-hard

Joey Ayala at Cafe Terraza, Roxas City, Capiz

ROXAS CITY—Wala nang original sa mga Pilipino artist ngayon. Pare-pareho na lang ang tunog nila; gaya-gaya lang sila. This was the essence of what Joey Ayala said during my conversation—well, informal interview—with him in October last year here.

The Mindanao-born artist also known as the “Karaniwang Tao” (from one of his hit songs ) was hinting at the consciousness of the Filipino music artists nowadays —and how their work is rather determined by Western influences. 

Through the auspices of the Capiz Provincial Tourism and Affairs Office (PTCAO) headed by Mr. Alphonsus Tesoro​, I had the chance to personally meet with Ayala during the Heritage Camp sponsored by Capiz PTCAO. And as per Tesoro, with the assistance of the National Commission for Culture and the Arts (NCCA), Capiz had the chance to see Joey Ayala for the second time.

Speaking before some 300 student participants at the Capiz National High School during the students semestral break, Ayala practically brought the house down with his rapport with the young learners and leaders who represented their respective municipalities across the province. 

Among other things, Ayala underscored how a nation’s history, heredity, culture, lifestyle and a sense of identity give rise or bear on the consciousness of the individual. For him, the consciousness of the Filipino is determined by his present dispositions acquired gradually through a generation of cultural influences.

In other words, the way we think is influenced by what only prevails in our culture and environment. So, if a Filipino child has long been taught that commodities from the United States are “original’ and therefore “cool” while all products made in the Philippines are “local,” such consciousness will hardly change in his lifetime. He will grow up looking to, patronizing and, yes, worshipping anything that is estetsayd (State-side).

So shouldn't we wonder why many Filipinos would love to pursue their own American dream? For one, not too many in our batch in high school remained in our locality. Subconsciously, it has been made clear that to be successful is to go out of the hometown and make it big in the bigger city where supposedly all the perks of t

echnology; a promising, high-paying job; a successful career; and probably a better life await.

As for the Filipino music artists, Ayala’s claim at the beginning of this piece rings true, indeed, even as growing up, we have come to hear our very own Filipino singers being carbon copies of the Western sensibility.

Upon hearing Ayala’s verdict, I easily recalled how my own favorite alternative bands Cueshe, Hale and a host of similar other bands who rose to prominence in the Tunog Kalye scene in 2000s, indeed, only resonated the vocals and acoustics of Creed, 3 Doors Down, and what-have-you.

You also have the likes of Arnel Pineda and Jovit Baldovino being hailed for singing just like Journey’s Steve Perry and other rock artists who could reach high notes. I also recall hearing over an FM station eons ago how Ilonggo Jose Mari Chan is said to be the Cliff Richard of the Philippines—because of his balladeer sensibility.

I also recall reading one review in the Philippine Collegian back in the 1990s, saying how Cookie Chua’s then-upcoming group Color It Red sounds very much like Natalie Merchant’s 10,000 Maniacs. 

Later I would read about Gary Valenciano being our very own Michael Jackson, owing to the dance moves of the perennial superstar; Regine Velasquez belting it out like Mariah Carey—though the latter later referred to the former as “A BROWN MONKEY WHO CAN SING;” then the list goes on.

I also recall my high school classmates Alfredo and Delfin (who are Roxette and Madonna die-hards, respectively) constantly berated the musical pieces of Original Pilipino Music (OPM) artists who, along with their U.S. Billboard chartmakers, also enjoyed airtime on FM radio stations at the time.

Talk of colonial mentality at its worst—talk of Western parameters always being used to critique Filipino artistry and originality.

So, are contemporary Filipino music artists, indeed, unoriginal—only rather best at copying what they hear? Or is their mentality so westernized already that they cannot help but sound like anything they hear from other countries—especially United States? Is it our consciousness that is so jaded enough to not anymore believe in what the Filipino artist can achieve?

My brief conversation with Joey Ayala has not given me answers; it only raised more questions.

Songs of Ourselves

Words and Music through Love and Life

Part 2 of Series

Manoy Awel, our eldest brother, has had the biggest influence in each of us, his younger siblings. 

While brothers Ano and Alex strutted their way to get us equally break-dancing to Michael Jackson and his local copycats in the 1980s, Manoy’s influence in the rest of us, his siblings, is indispensable. Being the eldest, Manoy held the “official” possession of Mother’s pono (turntable) like the two Stone Tablets, where the songs being played later became the anthems among the siblings. 

On this portable vinyl record player, every one of us came to love the acoustic Trio Los Panchos, Mother’s favorite whose pieces did not sound different from her aunt, Lola Charing’s La Tumba number which she would sing during family reunions. 

In those days, Manoy would play Yoyoy Villame’s rpms alternately with (Tarzan at) Baby Jane’s orange-labeled “Ang Mabait Na Bata.” But it was the chorus from Neoton Familia’s “Santa Maria” which registered in my memory, one which chased me up to my high school years. 

Manoy’s pono music would last for a while until the time when there would be no way to fix it anymore. A story has been repeatedly told of how Manoy dropped the whole box when he was returning (or maybe retrieving) it from the tall cabinet where it was kept out of our reach. Here it is best to say that I remember these things only vaguely, having been too young to even know how to operate the turntable. 

Since then, we had forgotten already about the pono, as each of us, through the years, has gone one by one to Naga City to pursue high school and college studies.  

One day in November of 1987, Supertyphoon Sisang came and swept over Bicol. At the time, I was still in Grade 6 staying with Mother and brother Ano in our house in Banat; while my brothers and my sister were all studying in Naga.

The whole night, Sisang swooped over our house like a slavering monster, and in the words of our grandmother Lola Eta, garo kalag na dai namisahan (one condemned soul). The day before, we secured our house by closing our doors and windows. But the following morning, the jalousies were almost pulverized; the walls made of hardwood were split open; and the roofs taken out. But our house still stood among the felled kaimito, sampalok and santol trees across the yard.

Among other things, I remember brother Ano retrieving our thick collection of LP vinyl records. Most if not all of them were scratched, chipped and cracked. In a matter of one day, our vinyl records had been soaked and were rendered unusable. Ano, who knew art well ever since I could remember, cleaned them up one by one, salvaged whatever was left intact, and placed those on walls as decors. 

The 45 rpms and the LP circles looked classic like elements fresh out of a 1950s art deco. On the walls of our living room now were memories skillfully mounted for everyone’s recollection. And there they remained for a long time.

By this time, Mother had already bought a Sanyo radio cassette player which later became everyone’s favorite pastime.

Soon, Manoy would be glued to cassette tapes that he would regularly bring in the records of the 1980s for the rest of us. The eighties was a prolific era—it almost had everything for everyone. Perhaps because we did not have much diversion then, we listened to whatever Manoy listened to. On his boombox, Manoy played Pink Floyd, Depeche Mode, Heart, Sade, America and Tears for Fears, among a million others. Of course, this “million others” would attest to how prolific the 80s was.

In those days, Manoy recorded songs while they were played on FM radio stations. It was his way of securing new records; or producing his own music. Then he would play it for the rest of us. Music was Manoy’s way of cheering the household up—he played music when he would cook food—his perennial assignment at home was to cook the dishes for the family. 

Manoy loved to play music loud anytime and every time so that Mother would always tell him to turn the volume down. Most of the time, Manoy played it loud—so that we, his siblings, his captured audience in the household, could clearly hear the words and the melodies, cool and crisp.

While Mother and Manoy would always have to discuss about what to do about his loud records playing, we, the younger ones, would learn new sensibilities from the new sounds which we heard from the sound-box. We did not only sing along with the songs being played; we also paraded nuances from them which we made for and among ourselves. Out of the tunes being played and heard, we made a lot of fun; and even cherished some of them.

When we were very young, I remember hearing a cricket when Manoy played America’s “Inspector Mills” every night, which lulled my sister Nene and me to sleep. Nene and I asked him to play it all over again because we would like to hear the cricket again and again in the said song. (Later, I would be aware that it’s not only a cricket but also a police officer reporting over the radio.)

During those nights, Mama was expected to arrive late because she worked overtime at her father’s house that hosted Cursillo de Cristianidad classes, a three-day retreat seminar which the family committed to sponsor for the barangay Bagacay through the years.

Sometimes, it was just fine even if Mother was not there when we slept. At times, we knew she wouldn’t be able to return home for that weekend, so we were lulled to sleep in Manoy’s bed listening to America and his other easy-listening music. Because he played these songs for us, the lonely nights without Mother in our house were made bearable by Manoy Awel. 

When Manoy was not around or when I was left alone in the house, I would go to his room and play his records to my heart’s content. Because he would leave his other records at home, I equally devoured them without his knowledge. None of his mixed tapes escaped my scrutiny.

Through the years, Manoy would later be collecting boxes of recorded songs and later even sorting them according to artists and genres. 

 One day, I saw these recorded tapes labeled “Emmanuel” on one side and “Mary Ann” on the other. It wouldn’t be long when I learned that Manoy had found his better half, his own B side—in the person of Manay Meann, his future wife. 

Mother Tongue

The best times in your home were those days filled with laughter, because your mother would say words or speak a language that was so powerful that even now you still know what they meant—long after you’ve gone from there, long after she’s gone.

Your mother’s words we so full of images that she needed not say more to put her message across. She used a language to you, her children, which spoke more than it sounded.

Hers was the kind of language that you now consider very figurative—in its foremost sense, metaphorical—i.e. “expressing something in terms that normally mean another.”

Your mother’s language was graphic that it simply seeped into your consciousness with little effort, or sometimes none at all. You recall these words and phrases and surmise their sense and sensibilities one by one.

At times when your Mother would get angry at you or any of your siblings, upset by what you had done, she would say, "Mga ‘págsusulít kamo! or ‘págsusulít ka!" if she is just addressing one of you. She would say this to you, not so much as a curse but as an expression of resignation—but only when you gravely upset her.

She scolded you using a language that would not necessarily piss you off in turn but rather only make you think. Whether you received her scolding lightly or seriously, her words would still make you think—how could you even manage to ask what they meant if she was fuming mad?

From such words you now create your own meaning. Perhaps it came from the more complete ipágsusulít ka (kamo), extending it to mean, ipagsusulit kamo sa tulak kan ina nindo, which is very much like, “I wish you’ve never been born,” or to that effect.

With those words, she seemed to say that she regretted having given birth to you—this is so sad because she might as well be cursing herself—that perhaps you are one of her wrong decisions.

So you or any of your siblings would try to appease her, but sometimes to no avail. It would take the efforts of your Lolo Miling, her dear father, to make you say sorry to her, or to patch things up—only because she had already fainted and lost consciousness, something that would surely call your grandfather’s attention.

You would regret this because it entitled you to a “date” with the grand patriarch himself, who would “grace” you with his “sermon” once you were summoned to the Libod, your mother’s ancestral house, your grandparents’ domain.

Your grandfather was both a teacher and a military man—which made clear that any of you could not simply break your mother’s heart, or else you face him squarely. And if you’d done so, you’d now brace yourself for a harsher military rhetoric, both well expressed and eloquent. You might as well call it some “repentance regimen,” a bitter pill you deserved for hurting your mother.

When you reasoned out with him, or even started mumbling your own juvenile piece, your regime would now include kneeling on salt or mongo seeds taken from your Lola Eta’s farm. Your dear grandmother never even had a clue how her farm produce would end up helping her husband’s effort to ferret out justice (or you now retort, the lack of it).

All these were done if only to make you realize perhaps how and why you hurt your mother. Such was the extent of the love of one’s father to his daughter—that now you could only deeply desire to write something to immortalize it.

No Country for Old Men

The Commission on Elections (Comelec) in Capiz headed by Mr. Wil Arceño recently dismissed the forthcoming Sangguniang Kabataan (SK) elections as needless if not unnecessary, deeming it a futile exercise primarily because it is not the youth themselves who call the shots, but other members of the barangay or the community.

Comelec’s dismissal was revealed even as it also announced that the barangay elections will proceed along with the youth polls in October this year.

How important is the Sangguniang Kabataan? We randomly surveyed members of the voting youth—and what we got was a mixture of opinions. While one said that “Wala man gid obra sa SK (Wala naman talagang trabaho sa SK),” saying that it only exists during basketball games or pa-Liga sa Barangay, another quipped, “Depende man na sa barangay (It depends on the barangay),” adding that what is important is that the voice of the youth is duly represented in the barangay council.

While we now find ourselves contemplating the same dilemma, one barangay captain randomly relayed to us how this issue remains debatable. He said that there is nothing wrong with the senior members of the council interfering with the matters of the youth. Besides, they who ought to be the future leaders need to be taught or mentored on governance and everything it requires. This presupposes that the elected youth are naïve in matters of governance or say, implementing projects for their fellow youth constituents or even the bigger community. 

But it is a different matter altogether when funds reportedly appropriated for youth projects in the barangay are not accordingly given or shelled out for their purposes. Across the country, stories are told about how senior members of the barangay council or even the parents of the elected youth appropriate projects and funds for purposes other than the development of the youth. As such, the SK that prevails is still SK—only that it means Sangguniang Kamagulangan (Council of the Elders) or Sangguniang Katingulangan (Council of the Elderly).

As per the Local Government Code of 1991, the 10 percent of General Fund of the Barangay earmarked for SK “shall be spent to initiate programs designed to enhance the social political, economic, cultural, intellectual, moral, spiritual and physical development of the members.” The SK chairperson also serves as ex-officio member of the barangay council and is entitled to a barangay councilor’s honorarium.

The presence of Sangguniang Kabataan is the privilege given for the youth. Therefore, the best thing that the members of the non-youth in the barangay council can do is to let them speak out their concerns, without being dictated by anyone. Parents and the senior members of the barangay can only do so much as to provide for the youth and their well-being—perhaps extend to them pieces of advice on matters of how to improve themselves, but the SK privilege is not in any way reserved for them. Never should the senior members of the community speak or assert anything in their behalf.

Kristo sa Daghan

Igwang mga Kristo sa daghan an mga tugang mo.

Enot na enot, nagpoon sa magurang nindo an ining Kristo sa daghan—ki Manuel dangan ki Emma. Sa Kagurangnan, idinusay nindang duwa an saindong mga pangaran—bagay na nariparo kan saindong lolohon na si Ramon bago siya nagpaaram. Saysay ni Lolo Amon mo, mayo sa saindong anom na magturugang na an pangaran harayo sa istorya kan Kagurangnan sa Banal na Kasuratan.

Yaon ini malinaw sa matua nindong si Emmanuel, na an gustong sabihon, “Kagurangnan yaon satuya.” Sa panduwang pangaran na Neil Romano yaon an pundasyon kan saindong pagtubod asin kan saindong mga ginikanan. An panduwang kangaranan sa Alex Apolinario na iyo an saindong pantolo gikan sa búhay kan sarong santo. Dangan kangaranan kan sarong bayaning nagin panalmingan kan mga Pilipino.

An Clemente, kangaranan kan mga banal na lideres sa simbahan kaidto. Siring ki Rosario, an bugtong na tugang nindong babaye, pinangaran an saindang pagtuo kag pagsarig sa kapangyarihan kan pangadie sa paagi ni Santa Maria, an Iloy ni Hesu Kristo.

Dangan man an ngaran mo.

Sa saindo pa sanang mga pangaran, yaon na an krus sa daghan, an Kristo sa buhay nindo. Yaon an pagma’wot kan mga magurang mong gibohon kamong mga panalmingan kan kabo’tan kan Kagurangnan. Dinidekar kan duwa nindong magurang—sindá Manuel sagkod Emma—kamong mga aki ninda sa saindang dakulang pagtubod sa Kaglalang.

Dios mabalos ta saimong nariparo—na mismong an saindang mga pangaran, “Emma” kag “Manuel”—iyong gayo an duwang bahin kan “Immanuel,” an mismong pangaran kan Kagurangnan sa Hebreong pagtaram.

Tibaad nahiling kan duwa mong magurang na an pagsaro ninda asin kan saindang pangaran iyo an paggibo kan katungdan kan Diyos na Kaglalang. Dangan biniyayaan sindá kan saindong anom na búhay, na magpoon kadto sagkod na sinda man magtaliwan, idinusay sa pag-omaw sa Kagurangnan.

Ngonyan na sindang duwa mayo na digdí sa daga, yaon rinirimpos nindo sa búhay kan kada saro an saindang katukduan na mamoot sa kapwa asin magsarig sa Diyos na iyo an poon asin kasagkuran kan gabos na ginigibo digdí sa dagâ.

Sa siring na biyaya kan Diyos saindo, kag ngapit sa mga dalan kan búhay na saindong inaagihan, dai kamo maglihis o mawarâ.

Asin ngonyan na mga panahon, hinahangaan mo an mga tugang mo sa saindang mga nagkagirinibo, sa saindang mga ginigibo. Nin huli ta sinda nagigin panalmingan mo sa kadaklan na bagay sa saimong buhay. Nagpapadiosmabalos kang marhay. Sa búhay kan mga utod mo, yaon nahihiling mo an krus sa daghan kan kada saro sainda, an biyaya kan Diyos na Bathala sa duwa nindong magurang na ipadayon an saindang napu’nan sa tabang nin Kagurangnan.

Emmanuel. Yaon ki Manoy Awel mo an pagiging tiso, an kapas na magkulibat sa estado kan ispiritu mo; iyong gayo, enot niyang konsiderasyon an nasa saboot mo. Sarong bagay na an dakulang kahulugan, sa kapwa asin orog na saimong tugang niya, an pagrespeto.

Sa dakulon nang inagihan si Manoy mo, nahihiling mo saiya an sarong marhay na tawo. Sa dakulang harong kadto duman sa Libod, siya pinapaluhod sa asin o monggo kan saindong Lolo Emiliano ta ngani sana daang magtiso—kaibahan kan ibang mga tugang—na iyo, saiya nag-idolo.

Poon kaidto, nakanood sa pagpadakula kan Lolo nindo; natukduan magtaong-galang sa darakulang tawo, nakanood magpahunod sa saradit na tawo. Dahil kaiyan, yaon saiya an paggalang; an pagtao nin kusog sa kalag kan saiyang kapwa, orog nang gayo kadtong kamo entiro nang magkairilo.

Yaon sa saiyang daghan an ipadagos an pagsarang sa estadong pigdumanan. Saiyang tutungkusan asin susustineran an kapakanan kan kadaklan na saiyang pinu’nan.

Sa simpleng búhay kan maogmahon niyang agom asin mga kabuhan, yaon ki Manoy mo an kaogmahan.

Neil Romano. Nahihiling mo ki Ano an higos kan sarong tawo—yaon saiya an abilidad na magtabang dangan makapauswag bako lang kan mga mahal niya sa buhay kundi kan kadaklan. Siring ki Manoy mo, yaon saiya an pagma’wot na mataparan ano man na bagay na saiyang napu’nan.

Dangan yaon ki Ano an dai pagsagin-sagin na rimposon sana an mga namamatean kun an mga ini makakakulog sa kalag kan saiyang mga mahal sa buhay asin mga tugang. An pagpadangat niya sa mga nguhod na tugang, orog na sana man. Kan mga aki pa kamo, an turno kan Ina nindo saiya binabayaan. Araki pa kamo, siya na man an dakulang sarigan kan saindong magurang—nagmamanehar kan kapakanan kan kadaklan. Kaya sa saiyang mga aki, ipinapagiromdom, ipinapaarog an siring na kamalayan. Yaon, iyo ini, an biyaya kan Diyos na saiyang tinutubudan. Kaya na sana man yaon saiya an kaogmahan.

Alex Apolinario. Ki Irmanong Alex, mayo nin dakul na taram, kundi katiwasayan; bako man na pirming rarom, kundi baga kahulugan. Saiya, an magagayon na mga bagay sa kinaban igwang tamang kapanahunan, bako gabos na bagay tinataram ta nganing maintindihan. Bako na habo niya lang man nanggad magtaram, kundi na para siya tibaad yaon sa linong, yaon sa tuninong an hararom na kahulugan.

An simple niyang búhay ngonyan minapagamiaw saimo na tibaad bako gabos tinataram para maliwanagan. Yaon an katiwasayan—aram niyang an pagsakripisyo igwang balos na kasaganaan. An paglapigot, sa katapusan, nagiging kaogmahan.

Siempre sa tahaw kan ribok kan mga tawo, yaon an silencio kan tugang mong ini ho—bakong padalos-dalos kun siya magdesisyon sa saiyang ginigibo. Gabos na anggulo ririkasahon niya antes mag-abot sa pwedeng mapapangyari asin maginibo.

Tuninong, hipos na nagmamasid, dangan nakikidungan sa hulag kan banwaan, yaon sa saiyang daghan an biyaya kan Diyos na magtios dangan magpadagos magbaklay sa pinili niyang alagyan. Siya madagos-dagos asta makaantos sa saiyang papadumanan.

Clemente. Ki Mente, saboot mo, igwang orog na biyaya an magin nguhod na tugang kan nagkaerenot na tolo—yaon saiya an biyayang tiponon an gabos nindang ugali dangan isabuhay sa saiyang sadiring pakahulugan para sa saiyang kapakanan. Nagiging panalmingan niya an saindong mga matuang tugang.

Yaon ki Mente an pakikipag-ulian. Actualmente, minarhay niyang makauli dangan makapagpoon sa banwaan na saindong dinakulaan ta nganing maging harani sa pamilya asin mga tugang. Yaon saiya an paghadoy na kamong nagdadakulang pamilya pirming magkairibahan. Dawa kaidto pa, aktibo siya sa pag-urulian. Kun igwang tiempo haling Manila kaidto, siya mauli ta mauli ta ngani sanang kamo gabos magkanuruparan, magkairistoryahan. Mayo siyang panama sa pungaw sa siyudad—pirming an puso niya minabuwelta kun sain asin kiisay ini igwang lealtad.

Ki Mente yaon an pagkamatinao, an pagma’wot makatabang nang gayo sa siisay na nangangaipo. Iyong gayo an naiisip mo, sa ngonyan na mga tiempo, garong kandidato, nagpapanao nin kun ano-ano sa kada barrio—alagad pagmáte mo, an padangat mong tugang na ini ho, bakong pulitiko.

Sa eskwelahan sagkod sa barangay kaidto, natawan siya nin pagkakataon na magdalagan sa lokal na pwesto—alagad garo bagang dinehado. Duman siya nakanood na dai niya kaipuhan nin hagban na puwesto ta nganing matuod na magserbisyo—“to serve and not to count the cost,” nanu’dan niya sa sarong dating poderosong militar na an ngaran San Ignacio kan pagkaadal niya sa Ateneo. Garo nabasa na nindo an istoryang ini’ho. Iyo, tama an iniisip mo. Sa saiyang daghan, yaon si Kristo.

Yaon ki Mente an paggalang sa mga tawong nasa katungdan—an pagbisto sa kapasidad kan katungdan para sa kapakanan kan kadaklan; bako kan partikular na tawong yaon sa pwesto. Siring niya ngonyan na yaon sa gobyerno sa serbisyo publiko—siya ngonyan iyong tinutubudan, pighahagadan nin tabang, sinasarigan.

Rosario. Ki Nene mo, yaon an kaogmahan nindong magturugang. Yaon saiya an pakikipagsapalaran. Pagkaagom ni irmana mo dangan kan magpamilya na, nahiling mo saiya an isog kan sarong babaying igwang paninindugan. Sa sibot na siyudad na saiyang dinayo, nagpundar siya duman dangan nagpadakula nin pamilya—katuwang an saiyang mamomo’ton na bana. Nagdadakula an saindang pamilya dangan padagos na nagdadanay sa biyaya nin Diyos.

Yaon saiya an pagkamaginibo. Siring man nindo, sa ara-aldaw na ginibo nin Diyos, nagtatrabaho. Siring man saindo, nagseserbisyo-publiko, nakikiulay sa mga nangangaipo, sa maraming tao’y nakikitungo.

Dangan man an pagkamatinao. Dawa kadtong daraga pa sana siya—hugos nang entiro sa saiyang mga sobrena asin mga sobreno, napapaogma ining mga kaakian sa harong man o sa tinampo. An pagtabang sa tugang na natitikapo—yaon na gayo. An paghadoy sa arog mong nasasakitan garo niya na baga naging pangangaipo.

Siempre yaon saiya an pagkamainamigo. Sa dakul niyang naging amiga sagkod amigo—yaon an mga pinsan, mga kairiba sa kwarto, mga dating kabiristo—ngonyan siya asin an saiyang pamilya nakakapadayon, matiwasay na nakakadungan sa buhay sa siyudad na pano nin gamo.

Ngonyan sa saimong pagsosolosolo, nadumduman mo an mga tugang na kairi-iriba mo sa harong nindo kadtong nakaaging tiempo—alagad ngonyan yaon na sa saindang sadiring mga estado. Gabos na sainda pamilyado; dangan man saimo. Namamatean mo an siring na biyaya orog ngonyan na ika harayo na sainda, sindá na sa ining dalagan kan búhay, iyo an saimong mga parte-daryo.

Napagamiaw saimo kan saindang mga agi-agi—pagkatapos kamong magkairilo pagkagadan kan ama mo saradit pa sana kamo dangan pagtaliwan kan Iloy nindo kadtong darakula na kamo—na nungka kamo liningawan kan Diyos na saindong tinutubudan.

Dios mabalos sa mga Kristo sa daghan na iyo an mga tugang mo.

Biernes Santo

Calle Fatima, San Vicente

Diliman 

Author! Author!

Literary Authorship through the Ages 

The concept of the author, the so-called originator of a literary work—has undergone mutation in varying degrees and periods in history.

In the Middle Ages, the concept was attached to the auctores, those authors of certain books trivium and quadrivium, which were vital texts for young men of learning. Trivium refers to the three subjects that were taught first in medieval universities, namely: grammar, logic and rhetoric; while quadrivium comprised the four subjects, or arts, taught in the Renaissance Period, namely: arithmetic, geometry, music and astronomy.

Like Aristotle, Ptolemy and the writers of the Bible, auctores were in the truest sense of the word—referred to those writers “whose words commanded respect and belief.” They stemmed from some sort of supremacy, enacting and making possible Divine Revelation to those who read them. As such, auctores established the ruling order, and sanctioned moral and political authority of the medieval culture. In the feudal age, authority was limited to the people in hierarchy, and thus truth and order and meaning.

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Further on, the Exploration Age gave way to the existence of people who would later render meaning to Author As Discoverer, as a progenitor that explored the New World, and “brought home a quite different sensibility.”

Quite detached from the ruling order, making his own world overseas, and discovering different worlds away from the constrainingauctores-dictated culture, the explorer became an originator in his own right, adding to his vocabulary some new words discovered in his explorations.

They became so-called new agents within a culture, as they were able to describe things in the New World, much as they were bound to declare their right to be represented “on their own terms,” rather than in the world of the ancient books, which had so defined their society in general. Such set of connections afforded the rising middle class the opportunity to try to redefine ways of seeing in social contexts.

Civil wars were good examples of the educated, fortified class who were as very well convinced by their new ideas as they were torn by the oppressive monarchical rules and similar cultures. They would become the modern auctores, much as they were revered in more ways than one—since they presented a “cooler” alternative to a rather monotonous, perhaps stifling world view that bordered on tedium or commonplace-ness.

After the establishment of a new alternative order, the author later came to represent the emancipation from the political life—this was one whose works belonged neither to economic nor political realms—it rather explored a cultural realm, with the author heading the so-called Republic of Letters.

Later on, the Romantic Period and the expressive strains of creators of literature made possible the emergence of the Genius. Here the author’s function shifted. In the past, it helped usher in a political alternative, now it produced a cultural alternative to the world of politics. Then, we have to insist they were now the modern auctores because they were now the new order, with works being “elevated into exemplars and sources of value for the entire culture.”

To English critic Matthew Arnold, for instance, literature became what is best thought and known in the world. The primacy of great men with great minds had to be insisted as the thing to reckon with, if society were to survive. In the face of massive social transformation and industrialization, the author necessarily transformed into one whose works became rather self-conscious or extremely esoteric.

Before the twentieth century, however, literary critics became the new interpreters of the concept of authorship, because the discussion departed from the author to the text.  The trend would go as far as to become a rather convenient escape from the real circumstances of daily life to oblivion. The emergence of the critic at a time when the author is said to be separated from his work ushered in views so as to render the author new meaning, or no meaning at all. In effect, the author became the effect of critic’s interpretation; and most important, the author became “not the cause of the work.”

For the New Critics in the first half of the 20th century, the author was not the object of criticism. The so-called autotelic text (meaning:  “having a purpose in and not apart from itself”) is superior in itself—full of meanings or endless possibilities—because it is a self-contained universe.

Then, toward the 1970s, taking off from whatever was left of the author by the New Critics, French Roland Barthes, proclaimed that the Author Is Dead: there is no author—that means not the literal death of the author but that the author is not the writer; and therefore it is a matter between function or activity.

For Barthes, author is to function as writer is to activity—the former concerned with and identifies with the language; the latter on its means. Literature then became a discursive game always arriving at the limits of its own rule, without any author other than the reader who, as Scriptor, is an effect of the writing game he activates.

Really, Speaking Greek

Notes on Aristotle’s Poetics

While some critics primarily consider Poetics a counterattack to Plato’s banishing of poets from [in] theRepublic, Aristotle’s treatise on art, poetry, epic, and tragedy clearly marks out the history of literary criticism. Rather than concluding that poets should be banished from the perfect society, as does Plato, Aristotle attempts to describe the social function and the ethical utility of art.

Poetics places emphasis on the formative nature of art—while predecessor Plato esteems idealism and abstractions as the highest forms of truth to gain wisdom, Aristotle stresses the importance or primacy of the particular imitations of nature.

According to Aristotle, criticism should not be simply the application of unexamined aesthetic principles in its context within the work—but should pay attention to the overall function of feature of a work of art. Therefore, Poetics lays bare the anatomy of art, as in a scientist—carefully accounting for the features of each species cited in the text—most forms by the way are the ones that existed during those times.

Exploring the forms of art during Aristotle’s time, Poetics particularly discusses the practical details of the forms of imitation, which he termed mimesis.  The treatment of the forms or modes of representation is meticulous as Aristotle presents as many definitions as the terms themselves. For instance, Aristotle goes into detail, when he cites the types of tragic plots. He also names specific terms to explicate that unity of plot is indispensably necessary. In Book 17, Aristotle gives poets some pointers on how to construct a tragedy—or how tragedy is constructed by playwrights who were awarded in Dionysian festivals.

Especially drawing on Sophocles’ Oedipus Rex, Aristotle cites the six salient parts of tragedy in order of importance—plot, character, thought, diction, music or melody and spectacle.  Zooming in on the good plots, Poetics prefers the plausibility and logically connected order centered on one unified action, simultaneously frowning on multiple, divergent plots which it also deems unnecessary. Poetics suggests that the best kind of resolution to these plots is one that shows a reversal (peripeteia) of position for the main character—and a character’s recognition (anagnorisis) of his or her fate. For best effect, so to speak, characters should come from high positions in order to render remarkable tragic circumstances, and their fates must be linked to their own error, and not some accident or wickedness (hamartia).

According to Norton’s Anthology of Theory and Criticism, Aristotle’s seminal work on art renders us a number of implications for the modern critics.  First, its systematic categorization of genus and species and its comparison of tragedy and epic are said to now underlie all genre theory—“undergirding modern considerations of the historical movement from epic to the novel. Second, its systematic description of plot and its component parts basically ground contemporary narrative theory, especially the technical field of narratology. 

Third, its scientific examination of poetry—championed by the American New Critics—rather just validates it as a legitimate branch of study.  Next, it affirms that poetry is a source of universal knowledge of human behavior, i.e. unlike history that produces knowledge of specific situations, poetry describes actions of characters who might be any human beings.  Lastly, to which most critics agree, good poetry renders us catharsis, primarily read as purgation of unwieldy emotion. 

Through time, catharsis, roughly a sense of moral purification that arises in an individual from being exposed to tragedy has come to mean ethical or intellectual clarification.

***

Aristotle’s Poetics clearly marks out the beginnings of literary theory and criticism. 

In this age-old treatise, Aristotle provides both a history of the development of poetry and drama, and a critical framework for evaluating tragic drama. It is considered the first systematic essay in literary theory because it is full of insight and shows a high degree of flexibility in the application of its general rules.

More inclined to forming categories and organizing them into coherent systems than his teacher Plato (who highly esteemed a cerebral Theory of Forms), Aristotle conversely treated the discussion of poetry as a natural scientist, carefully accounting for the features of each “species” of text.

In the twenty six books perhaps gathered as notes by his pupils, three points stand out as probably the most important. First is the interpretation of poetry as mimesis. In Chapters 1–3, all poetry, Aristotle argues, is imitation or mimesis. Poetry springs from a basic human delight in mimicry. Humans learn through imitating and take pleasure in looking at imitations of the perceived world. The mimetic dimension of the poetic arts is always representational. As artistic representation, mimesis in poetry is the act of telling stories that are set in the real world. The events in the story need not have taken place, but the telling of the story will help the listener or viewer to imagine the events taking place in the real world.

Furthermore, representations of human beings in poetry can be sorted into three categories—depictions of humans as better than they really are, depictions of humans as they are in reality, and depictions of humans as worse than they really are. It then distinguishes three types of poetry—tragedy, comedy and epic poetry, perhaps just like an anatomist labels parts of the human body.

In particular, Aristotle focuses his discussion on tragedy, which uses dramatic, rather than narrative, form, and deals with agents who are better than us, ourselves. Aristotle writes the famous opening line in Book 6, which sums up the centerpiece of his work—

Tragedy, then, is an imitation of an action that is serious, complete, and of a certain magnitude; in language embellished with each kind of artistic ornament, the several kinds being found in separate parts of the play; in the form of action, not of narrative; through pity and fear effecting the proper purgation of these emotions.

Aristotle lists six components of tragedy—plot or mythos,character, thought, diction, melody, and spectacle. While diction and melody are the style of the text or lyrics, and the music to which some of them are set; spectacle refers to staging, lighting, sets, costumes, etc. Thought refers to the indications, given primarily through words but also through other means, of what the characters are thinking.

Of the six parts, Aristotle insisted on the primacy and unity of plot.  While plot as representation of human action can either besimple or complex, Aristotle stresses that complex plots are required for successful tragedies. Here, the plot must be unified, clearly displaying a beginning, a middle, and an end, and must be of sufficient length to fully represent the course of actions but not very long that the audience loses attention and interest.

Unfolding through an internal logic and causality, a complex plot should consist of a hero going from happiness to misery. The hero should be portrayed consistently and in a good light (and the poet should also remain true to what we know of the character).For Aristotle, then, action—represented as the plot—must be consistent with character—and more importantly reveal character.

Furthermore, a number of terms can illuminate how complex plot works successfully for tragedy. Hamartia, translated directly as “error,” is often a “tragic flaw” on the part of the hero that causes his very downfall—this error need not be an overarching moral failing, rather only a matter of not knowing something or forgetting something. Employed along with it is anagnorisis or“recognition,” a part in tragedy—often at the climax—where the hero, or some other character, passes from ignorance to knowledge. This could be a recognition of a long lost friend or family member or a sudden recognition of some fact about oneself, as the case of Oedipus in Sophocles’s Oedipus Rex. Therefore, the concept of mythos is about how the elements of a tragedy come together to form a coherent and unified whole—in such a way that the overall message or impression that we come away with is what is conveyed to us by the mythos of a piece.

Equally prominent in the Aristotelian treatise is the notion of catharsis. For him, such tragic plot must serve to arouse the emotions of pity and fear and effect a catharsis of these emotions. While some critics forever debate the meaning of the term,Aristotle’s reference to the purging of the emotions of pity and fear aroused in the viewer always links it to the positive social function of tragedy—in general, the ethical utility of art.

Thus, it is a truth universally acknowledged that Aristotle’sPoetics established the beginning of literary theory and criticism, in that it started the discussion of poetic art as representation of reality, a contention held true even today.

Its “species-concerned” treatment of the components of poetic art also initiated the recent and ongoing discourses on the classification of literary forms and types or genres, or genre theory, a structuralist approach to literary, film and cultural theories.

Its concept of the three unities—those of action, place and time—was even taken to its most austere limits during the Renaissance and the succeeding European periods.

Above all, it ushered in for the succeeding eras the importance of the value of art itself, which is one of moral instruction, a concept taken always seriously in the discussion of literature.

After Making Love, You Hear Footsteps*

dawa garo mayo man; huna nindo lang

pirming igwang nagdadangadang. Ika

handal tibaad an saimong kasaruan,

sabi mong haloy nang nawara, basang

na sanang magbutwa; siya man masundan

daa kan ilusyon na an sugid haloy niya

nang itinalbong, alagad ngonyan saiya

tibaad nag-iidong-idong.

Sa laog ka'ning kwarto garo igwang

nakahiriling saindo. Sa saindong pinapaiplian

garo man sana dai kamo nalilipudan. Pagmati nindo

pirmi kamong linalamag kan kun anong duwang kalag.

Dai man daw basang na sana sinda nindong binarayaan

ta nganing sa kada saro kamo magpasiram-siram?

Sa saindang kasuyaan, dae ninda aram

kun sain maduman. Yaraon sinda bisan diin

kamo magduman. Sa saindang kasusupgan,

dai ninda kamo tinatantanan. Mga kalag sindang

dai nagkamirisahan. Ara-aldaw ninda kamong

sisingilon kan saindang kamurawayan.

*Dispensa ki Galway Kinnell

Nag-Fiesta sa Jaro si Mariano Perfecto

Pag-labáy kan banda sa saindong iskinita, nagbugtaw ka na. Mas maáyo kay aga ka nagsimba. Pasiring sa kapilya, tinangro ka nin esperma ni Santa Maria, nagsulô ka nin lima. Makipangúdto ka ki Santa Marta. Kun daindata an saiyang afritada, luwagá saná. Nalalántaw mo sa Jaro an ginasiling na Reyna sa patio kan Cathedral ninda pinaparáda, guyod-guyod an kapa ni Santa Catalina. Uy, maoogmá an mga tindang kamunsil ni Santa Bárbara sa bangketa. Mga tatlo ka kilo, dai na man pagtawáda. Sa hapon, ma-derby si San Pedro sa plaza; rinibo daá an pwedeng magána—pumili ka na, sa puti, sa pulá. Pag abot kan sinárom, magpasádpasad ka sa bisitá. Si Magdalena dai naglaog sa panaderya, kiblita na balá. Bilog na aldaw nagbaligya si Dios Ama, mais na sinugbá, sa plaza asta may talipapa, nagpidir ka kuta miski pira.

Panay News, September 25, 2011, D2.