Philippine Literature Anthology

AN UNDERGRADUATE NARRATIVE COMPILATION OF SELECTED
LITERARY PIECES WITH A CORRESPONDING
TIMELINE IN ENGLISH LITERATURE
An Undergraduate Narrative Compilation
Presented to the Faculty
of the School of Education
Andres Bonifacio College
In partial fulfillment
of the Requirements for the Subject in
LITERATURE 223 – SURVEY OF PHILIPPINE LITERATURE IN ENGLISH
JESSA JANE PACAS
May 2023
i
APPROVAL SHEET
In partial fulfillment of the requirements for the subject LITERATURE 223
– SURVEY OF PHILIPPINE LITERATURE IN ENGLISH, this paper entitled,
“AN UNDERGRADUATE NARRATIVE COMPILATION OF SELECTED
LITERARY PIECES WITH A CORRESPONDING TIMELINE IN ENGLISH
LITERATURE” has been prepared and submitted by JOCEL ELLEN-MAY L.
ORILLA, is hereby recommended for acceptance and approval.
JAMES O. BAES, LPT, M.Ed, MAEM
Literature Instructor
Approved and accepted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the
subjects AN UNDERGRADUATE NARRATIVE COMPILATION OF SELECTED
LITERARY PIECES WITH A CORRESPONDING TIMELINE IN ENGLISH
LITERATURE. With a final rating of .
SHIRLEY G. BELLINO, Ed.D
ii
Dean, School of Education
ACKNOWLEDGMENT
I would like to extend my sincere gratitude to everyone who gave their
time, expertise, and resources to make this narrative compilation of chosen
literary works a reality.
To my supportive mother, father, aunt, uncle, and grandparents, who have
always been there for me and have given me love, support, and financial help in
addition to spiritual guidance. I'm very grateful.
I'd also like to thank our professor, Sir James for his consistent support of
my studies, as well as for his understanding, inspiring words, and passion. His
guidance was really beneficial in finishing this assignment. I sincerely appreciate
that, sir.
Thank you, Our heavenly Father, Jesus Christ for giving me the ability to
explore things with wisdom, patience, dedication, and knowledge; for guiding me
through all of the challenges I've encountered; and for giving me the willpower to
work on this paper and make it viable.
iii
DEDICATION
I dedicate this book to my loving family, especially to my parents who gave
much of themselves to meet all of my requirements.
To my friends and classmates who are always willing to lend a hand,
encourage one another, and offer advice while we work on our books.
I also dedicate this to my professor in appreciation of all that he has done
to help us make this book possible.
To, our All-Powerful God, who also given me the fortitude, commitment,
and discernment to finish this work. I have nothing without him. I Greatly
appreciate it.
iv
TABLE OF CONTENTS
TITLE PAGE i
APPROVAL SHEET ii
ACKNOWLEDGMENT iii
DEDICATION iv
INTRODUCTION
Background of the Study
Objectives
CONTENT
Folk Literary Genres
Short Story 3
Essay 3
Poetry 3
Drama 3
v
Oral Lore from Pre-Colonial Times (1564)
Hinilawod 4-11
Anonymous
(Literary Analysis) 12-13
Biag ni Lam-Ang 14-17

Anonymous
Inadarapata and Sulayman 20-25

Anonymous
Bantugan 28-29
Anonymous
Literature under the Spanish Colonization
Noli Me Tangere 32-34

Dr. Jose Rizal
El Felibusterismo 37-41
Dr. Jose Rizal
(Literary Analysis) 42
Urbana at Felisa 43-44

Modesto de Castro
To My Fellow Children 46-47

Dr. Jose Rizal
Literature under the American Colonization
El Renacimiento 49-50
Fernando Ma. Guerrero,Teodoro M. Kalaw, and Rafael Palma
vi
Dead Stars 53-78

Paz Marquez Benitez
Footnote to Youth 80-89
Jose Garcia Villa
I am a Filipino 93-96
Dr. Jose Rizal
Literature Under the Republic
The Woman who had Two Navels 98-105

Nick Jouaquin
Scent of Apples 108-117

Bienvenido N. Santos
The Bamboo Dancers 120-122

N.V.M. Gonzales
The Day the Dancers Came 125-126

Literature after EDSA Revolution
The Very Last Story of Huli 129-132

Lilia Quindoza Santiago
The Execution 134-137

Charlson Ong
Geyluv 140-143
Honorio De Dios
vii
Among the Disappeared 146-151

Ricardo Lee
Literature of the Regions
America is in the Heart 154-156

Carlos Bulosan
Blasted Hopes (Nalpay A Namnama) 159-160

Leona Florentino
Revolt From Hymen 162

Angela Manalang-Gloria
MY FATHERS’S TRAGEDY 164-171

Carlos Bulosan
21st Century Philippine Literature
A Tropical Winter’s Tale 173-175

Charlson Ong
Morning, Puerto del Mar, Isla Guimaras 177-178

John Iremil Teodoro
Bonsai 180-181
Edith Tiempo
Monsoon Madness 184

Leo Almero
viii
REFERENCES 187
CURRICULUM VITAE 188-189
ix
1
1
1
INTRODUCTION
Background of the Study
The purpose of this book is to give students a chronological overview of
Philippine literature from its inception to the present. It introduces students to the
evolution of literary sub genres that reflect Filipino culture and values. This book
compilation aims to increase students' knowledge and enjoyment of Philippine
literature via debate and study of various literary genres and features.
The literature of the Philippines reflects the country's rich history and
unique cultural traditions. It spans the indigenous, pre-colonial, colonial, and
contemporary periods, each with its own set of themes, techniques, and
narratives. The study of Philippine literature investigates how historical events,
colonization, and cultural influences create the literary environment.
Philippine literature is important in shaping and expressing Filipino cultural
identity and nationalism. It delves into patriotism, the struggle for independence,
social justice, and the experiences and ambitions of the Filipino people.
Philippine literature studies how literary works contribute to a sense of
nationhood and cultural pride.
Philippine literature focuses on understanding and appreciating the
Philippines' unique literary heritage. It investigates the historical, cultural,
linguistic, and social factors that shape Philippine literature, as well as its impact
on national identity, cultural pride, and societal discourse.

2
Objectives
At the end of this study, you can;
a. increase understanding and esteem for Philippine literature.
b. examine a variety of writing from the Philippines' diverse regions.
c. appreciate the richness of our nation's literatures in order to inspire in
them a thirst for knowledge and a love of their homeland and the
natural world, traits that would eventually make them into capable,
sympathetic, and dedicated Filipinos.

3
MODERN LITERARY GENRES
The literature of the Philippines has survived numerous historical periods
and developed over time. As time went on, new genres emerged, with these
literary creations coming from all over the world and evoking that region's culture,
customs, and way of life.
Short Story - All writings about the Philippines, from prehistory to colonial relics
to the present, are included in the category of Philippine literature. Pre-Hispanic
Philippine literature, which originated as an oral tradition, was passed down from
generation to generation through epics.
Essay - A dissertation or thesis is a comprehensive literary analysis that deals
with a particular topic from a broad and often personal standpoint. A literary
analysis is a shorter, less formal, less systematic literary output that analyzes,
interprets, or critiques literature.
Poetry - Literature that elicits a focused imaginative awareness of experience or
a particular emotional response using language chosen and structured for its
meaning, tone, and rhythm.
Drama - In literature, a drama is the presentation of written discourse (either
prose or poetry) to illustrate fictional or non-fictional events. Dramas can be

4
performed live, documented, or played on the radio. In the Philippines, drama is
a prose play that was outlawed for a variety of reasons; it is commonly known as
plays and the authors are called "playwrights" or "dramatists."

5
ORAL LORE FROM PRE-COLONIAL TIMES (1564)
Hinilawod (English Version)

The Panayon Epic
When the goddess of the eastern sky
Alunsina (also known as Laun Sina,
“The Unmarried One”) reached
maidenhood, the king of the gods,
Kaptan, decreed that she should marry.
All the unmarried gods of the different
domains of the universe tried to win her
hand to no avail. She chose to marry a
mortal, Datu Paubari, the mighty ruler
of Halawod.
Her decision angered her other suitors. They plotted to bring harm to the
newlyweds. A meeting of the council of gods was called by Maklium-sa-t’wan,
god
of the plains, where a decision by those present was made to destroy Halawod
by flood.Alunsina and Paubari escaped harm through the assistance of Suklang
Malaynon, the goddess and guardian of happy homes and sister of Alunsina,
6
who learned of the evil plot and warned the two so they were able to seek refuge
on higher ground.After the flood waters subsided, Paubari
and Alunsina returned to the plains secretly.
They settled near the mouth of the Halawod
river.Several months later Alunsina became
pregnant and told Paubari to prepare the
siklot, things necessary for childbirth. She
delivered a set of triplets and summoned
the high priest Bungot-Banwa to perform the
rites of the gods of Mount Madya-as (the
mountain abode of the gods) to ensure the
good health of the children. The high priest
promptly made an altar and burned some alanghiran fronds and a pinch of
kamangyan. When the ceremony was over he opened the windows of the north
side of the room and a cold northernly wind came in and suddenly the three
infants were transformed into strong, handsome young men. Labaw Donggon,
the eldest of the three, asked his mother to prepare his magic cape, hat, belt and
kampilan (sword) for he heard of a place called Handug where a beautiful
maiden named Angoy Ginbitinan lived.
The journey took several days. He walked across plains and valleys,
climbed up mountains until he reached the mouth of the Halawod river. When he
7
finally met the maiden’s father and asked for her hand in marriage, the father
asked him to fight the monster Manalintad as part
After the wedding, Labaw Donggon
proceeded home with his new bride. Along the
way they met a group of young men who told
him that they were on their way to Tarambang
Burok to win the hand of Abyang Durunuun,
sister of Sumpoy, the lord of the underworld and
whose beauty was legendary.
Labaw Donggon and his bride continued on their
journey home. The moment they arrived home Labaw Donggon told his mother
to take care of his wife because he is taking another quest, this time he was
going to Tarambang Burok.
Before he can get to the place he has to pass a ridge guarded by a giant
named Sikay Padalogdog who has a hundred arms. The giant would not allow
Labaw Donggon to go through without a
fight. However, Sikay Padalogdog was
no match to Labaw Donggon’s prowess
and skill in fighting so he gave up and
allowed him to continue.

8
Labaw Donggon won the hand of Abyang
Durunuun and also took her home. Before long
he went on another journey, this time it is to
Gadlum to ask for the hand of Malitong Yawa Sinagmaling Diwata who is
the young bride of
Saragnayan, the lord of darkness.This trip required him to use his biday
nga inagta
(black boat) on which he sailed across the seas
for many months, went across the region of the clouds, and passed the land of
stones until finallyhe reached the shores of Tulogmatian which was the seaside
fortress of Saragnayan. The moment he set
foot on the ground Saragnayan asked him,
“Who are you and why are you here?”
To which he answered, “I am Labaw
Donggon, son of Datu Paubari and goddess
Alunsina of Halawod. I came for the
beautiful Malitong Yawa Sinagmaling
Diwata.”
Saragnayan laughed. He told Labaw
Donggon that what he wished for was
impossible to grant because she was his wife. Labaw Donggon then challenged
Saragnayan to a duel saying that whoever wins will have her.The challenge was
9
accepted and they started fighting. Labaw Donggon submerged Saragnayan
under water for seven years, but when he let go of him, Saragnayan was still
alive. The latter uprooted a coconut tree and started beating Labaw Donggon
with it. He survived the beating but was not able to surpass the powers of
Saragnayan’s pamlang (amulet) and eventually he gave up and was imprisoned
by Saragnayan beneath his house.Back home Angoy Ginbitinan and Abyang
Durunuun both delivered sons. Angoy Ginbitinan’s child was named Aso Mangga
and Abyang Durunuun’s son was called Abyang Baranugon. Only a few days
after they were born, Aso Mangga and Abyang Baranugon embarked to look for
their father. They rode their sailboats through the region of eternal darkness,
passed the region of the clouds and the land of stones, finally reaching
Saragnayan’s home. Saragnayan noticed that Abyang Baranugon’s umbilical
cord have not yet been removed, he laughed and told the child to go home to his
mother.
Abyang Baranugon was slighted by the remarks and immediately
challenged Saragnayan to a duel. They fought and Abyang Baranugon defeated
Saragnayan and won his father’s freedom.
Labaw Donggon’s defeat and subsequent imprisonment by the Lord of
Darkness also angered his brothers. Humadapnon was so enraged that he swore
to the gods of Madya-as that he would wreak revenge on all of Saragnayan’s
kinsmen and followers.

10
Humadapnon prepared to go to Saragnayan’s domain. He employed the
aid of Buyong Matanayon of Mount Matiula who was well-known for his skill in
swordsmanship. For their journey they rode on a sailboat called biday nga
rumba-rumba. They travelled through the region of the clouds, passed by the
region of eternal darkness and ended up at a place called Tarambang Buriraw. In
this place was a ridge called Talagas Kuting-tang where a seductive sorceress
named Piganun lived.
Piganun changed herself to a beautiful maiden and captured the heart of
Humadapnon. Buyong Matanayon begged with Humadapnon to leave the place
with him but the latter refused. After seven months passed, Buyong Matanayon
remembered that they have brought with them some ginger. One evening at
dinner time Buyong Matanayon threw seven slices of ginger into the fire. When
Pinganun smelled the odor of burning ginger she left the dinner table because
sorcerers hated the odor of ginger. Immediately Buyong Matanayon struck
Humadapnon, who became unconscious. He dragged his friend with him and
they were able to escape.
They continued with their trek and everywhere they went they exacted
revenge on all of Saragnayan’s people and relatives. One day they reached a
place called Piniling Tubig who was ruled by Datu Umbaw Pinaumbaw. There
was a big gathering in the village and when they asked what was going on they
were told that the datu was giving his daughter for marriage to whoever could
remove the huge boulder that rolled from a mountain into the center of the
11
village. Many men tried their luck but no one so far was able to even move the
stone.
Humadapnon took off his magic cape and used it to lift the stone and
threw it back into the mountain. The datu kept his word and Humadapnon
married his daughter. During the wedding feast Humadapnon heared about the
beauty of the goddess of greed Burigadang Pada Sinaklang Bulawan from a
guest minstrel who sang at the celebration.
After the wedding Humadapnon went to seek the hand of the goddess in
marriage. Along the way he encountered Buyong Makabagting, son of the mighty
Datu Balahidyong of Paling Bukid who was also travelling with the same purpose
in mind. Upon learning of Humadapnon’s intent, Buyong Makabagting challenged
him to a duel. They fought and Buyong Makabagting was no match to
Humadapnon’s strength and skill. The fight ended when Buyong Makabagting
surrendered and even promised to aid Humadapnon in his quest. Humadapnon
married the goddess and brought her home.
Meanwhile, right after Humadapnon left to seek Saragnayan’s followers
and relatives his brother Dumalapdap left for Burutlakan-ka-adlaw where the
maiden Lubay-Lubyok Hanginun si Mahuyokhuyokon lived. For the trip he
brought along Dumasig, the most powerful wrestler in Madya-as.
Several months later they came to a place called Tarambuan-ka-banwa
where they encountered the two-headed monster Balanakon who guarded a
narrow ridge leading to the place where the maiden lived.With the aid of
12
Dumasig, Dumalapdap killed Balanakon. However, upon approaching the gate of
the palace where the maiden lived he was confronted by Uyutang, a bat-like
monster with sharp poisonous claws. There ensued a bloody battle between the
Dumalapdap and the monster. They fought for seven months and their skill and
prowess seemed to be equal. But on the seventh month, Dumalapdap was able
to grab on to Uyutang’s ankle and broke it. Then he took his iwang daniwan
(magic dagger) and stabbed Uyutang under the armpit. Uyutang cried out so loud
that the ridge where they were fighting broke into two and there was an
earthquake. Half of the ridge became the island of Buglas (Negros) and the other
became the island of Panay.
Dumalapdap married Lubay-Lubyok Hanginun
si Mahuyokhuyokan and then took her home. Datu
Paubari was very happy when he was reunited with his
three sons and he prepared a feast in their honor.
After the celebration, the three brothers left for
different parts of the world. Labaw Donggon went to
the north, Humadapnon went south, Dumalapdap to
the west and Datu Paubari remained in the east.

13
14
LITERARY ANALYSIS
HINILAWOD
Anonymous
The part of the epic where Datu Paubari and Alusina flee from people who
want to hurt them because of her choice of husband and how it enrages the other
suitors is my favorite. It is symbolic that the demigod brothers won't be instantly
harmed when there is a ceremony for triplets and when it is over the priest
performs a ritual at his residence in which the triplets are changed into powerful,
attractive young men. The final occasion was when their family came together
one more, and their father Datu paubari hosted a feast in their honor. What I
dislike about this epic is how the other gods attempted to defeat Alunsina by
using her, and when they failed, they intended to destroy the newlyweds Datu
Paubari and Deity Alunsina. And when Saragnayan defeated Labaw Donggon in
a duel for the woman Malitong Yawa Sinagmaling Diwata, Labaw Donggon gave
up since he could not defeat Saragnayan because its amulet was powerful, and
Saragnayan then imprisoned Labaw Donggon below his house.
The three brothers in this tale are demigods, and their mother is the
goddess of the eastern sky Alunsina. The father of the triplets, datu Paubari, is
the great leader of Halawod in this tale. As happened to Alunsina, the god of
kings commanded that she marry, and all the single gods competed for her hand
in marriage. Female goddesses are required to be married when they reach

15
puberty. Through their amulets, they gain strength. For example, Labaw
Donggong is highly strong because to his amulets and skill, while Saragnayan is
similarly difficult to beat due to his amulets. Similar to what happened with the
triplets, they must battle in this epic to win the woman's hand and prove their love
for her.
For me, the author's desired outcome was realized. The epic was clearly
conveyed by the author. According to legend, the Hinilawod is an epic poem from
central Panay, Philippines' Sulodin, where the country's first inhabitants lived.
The phrase "Tales from the Mouth of the Halawod River" appears in the title
Hinilawod. Since the name of the protagonist is included in reports of the
Islanders' beliefs and recorded by early Spanish invaders, the Panayan
community of visayans is familiar with this epic. Labaw Donggon, Humadapnon,
and Dumalaplap, the three sulodnon DemiGod brothers, are primarily featured in
this epic's tale.
From what I've seen in social media and from the epic itself, I will claim
that this study is well-researched. It would take around three days to perform the
epic in its original form. It is one of the world's longest epics as a result. The right
interpretation of Hinilawod or Tales from the Mouth of the Halawod River is that
real love endures forever and triumphs despite all obstacles. According to what
I've read, the epic narrates the tale of a goddess who wed a mortal and the
exploits of her three demigods offspring.

16
17
Biag ni Lam-Ang (English Version)

A summary of the Ilokano epic "Biag ni Lam-ang" by Pedro Bukaneg.
A
couple named Don Juan and
Namongan lived in a faraway barrio of
Nalbuan. One day, Don Juan left his
pregnant wife and went to the mountain to
punish a group of Igorots. While he was in
the mountain, Namongan gave birth to a
baby boy. The baby was different from
other babies because upon birth he could
already speak. He wanted his name to be Lam-ang. And he was the one who
chose his [own] godfather when he was baptized.
“Where is my father?” Lam-ang asked his mother Namongan one day.“He
is in the mountain to settle his feud with a group of Igorots there,” said his
mother.
Lam-ang felt sad. He hadn't seen his father

18
since he was born and he was
terribly longing to see him.
“Would it be long before he
comes back?”
“I don't know,” answered his
lonely mother
Namongan who was also
terribly missingher husband. “I
don't even know if he is still alive.”
One day, Lam-ang had an
unusual dream. In his dream, he
saw how his father was
mercilessly killed by a group of
Igorots. He was seething with anger when he woke up. He decided to follow his
father to the mountain. He was then nine months old, when he reached the
Igorot's village, he saw them dancing around the head of his father that was on
top of a thin bamboo pole. In his rage, he fought all the Igorots and slew them all,
including the leader of the group whom he tortured first before he killed.
19
On his way home to Nalbuan, he passed by the Amburayan River. There
he took a bath with his lady friends scrubbing his body of dirt and blood that
eventually killed all the living creatures in the river.
When he was old enough to marry, he heard of the beautiful Ines
Kannoyan and fell in love with her. He went to Ines' place to court her taking with
him his white rooster and his favorite dog. When he arrived at her house, he was
annoyed to see Ines' many suitors in front of the house.
He asked his rooster
to crow and the rooster did.
At once, Ines' house
crumbled to the ground
killing all her suitors.
Then he asked his
dog to bark and the dog did.
The crumbled house stood
again at once. Ines and her
parents went out of the
house to meet him. The

20
white rooster expressed Lam-ang's feelings for Ines Kannoyan. “My master,
Lam-ang, loves you very
much and he wants to marry you”, the
white rooster said to Ines in the
language she clearly understood.
“I'll marry you if your wealth
could equal our riches”, answered Ines
Kannoyan.
Ines' challenge to him did not
dampen Lam-ang's spirit. He went
home at once and came back with a
big boat full of gold, the value of which
surpassed Ines' family's wealth. Then they were married and they lived happily.
Years passed and came Lam-ang's turn to catch a fish known as "rarang".
It was an obligation of every married man in the community to catch a "rarang".
Lam-ang, however, felt that he would be killed by a "berkahan" (a kind of fish that
belonged to the shark family) once he set out to catch a "rarang". But he had to
do his duty and one night, he sailed out to the sea. He was killed by a "berkahan"
as he had foreseen. Ines wept in sorrow. Lam-ang's white rooster thought of a
way to bring Lam-ang back to life again. Ines Kannoyan paid a deep-sea diver to
21
locate all the bones of Lam-ang under the sea. The diver found all the bones very
easily and Ines put them together. Then, together with Lam-ang's white rooster
and favorite dog, she held prayer vigils every night, until one day, Lam-ang came
back to life. And they lived happily ever after.
LITERARY ANALYSIS
Biag ni Lam-Ang
Anonymous
The traits and virtues of Filipinos are shown in the epic Biag ni Lam-Ang.
The fact that this great epic is a reflection of our ancestors, especially the
Ilocanos who wrote this imaginative work during the pre-Spanish period, is that
the traits, attitudes, and beliefs are all shown in it. It stands for unwavering
bravery, righteousness, love, passion, a journey, and even friendship. The
vastness and heroism of the tale are infused with idealistic vision and fantasy.
The protagonist of the epic is Lam-Ang, a substitute for Nalbuan who is
the son of Don Juan and Namungan Panganiban. Because of his extraordinary
powers, he is loved and feared by the populace alike. He was born in a common
manner. Shortly after his birth, he can speak. Lam Ang had grown tremendously,
which was very amazing. By the time he was nine months old, he was both
physically and mentally developed. Additionally, he possessed a commanding
voice that could clearly be heard by everyone in Nalbuan. He possessed a
peculiar spirit that enabled him to defeat the numerous Igorots by himself.
22
Although it was a challenging task because many others had tried but
failed to capture the valuable shellfish, Lam Ang's bravery was displayed to the
people of Calanutian and Nalbuan as he endeavored to obtain the clam. In
addition to his exceptional powers, he also possessed incredible abilities. He did
everything in his power to justify his desire to wed Ines Cannuyan in his love life.
Sadly, he was killed by berkakan, a vengeful shark, but he was resurrected
thanks to his incredible animal companions.
The epic highlights the value of family in the first place. Lam Ang's love for
his family was unselfish as he searched for his father. He also shown his
leadership skills by defending the people of Nalbuan against Igorot takeover. The
story emphasizes Lam Ang's rivalry with other suitors. Before meeting
Sumarang, an enthusiastic suitor of Ines, Lam Ang battled and killed a lot of
monsters after falling in love with her. It only serves as an example of how
Filipinos struggle for love and go to tremendous measures to prove our
dedication. Finally, Biag ni Lam Ang depicts the real Ilocos in a fantastic way to
all Filipinos.
23
Indarapata and Sulayman (English Version)

The Epic from Mindanao
Long before Kabungsuwan came
to Mindanao, the entire island was
covered with water. The lowland
disappeared. Nothing could be seen but
mountains. The people, to escape death,
went to live on the mountainsides. Here
the inhabitants built their homes and
cultivated the highlands.
The peace and prosperity of these
highland dwellers, however, were short
lived. There appeared in the land one
day some horrible, man-eating monsters.
One of these monsters haunted the hillsides of Kabalalan, eating men
and other animals it could reach. It was called Kurita. It lived partly on land and
partly on sea.The second monster was called Pah. It was a winged creature,
with razor-edge claws. Its feet were covered with steel-hard scales. Whenever
this monster flew, its wings covered the sun and produced darkness akin to
midnight. It haunted the regions east of Mindanao. It had its abode on top of
Mount Bita.The third was a huge

24
man-like monster called Tarabusaw. It
inhabited the mountain of Matutum and
plagued the neighboring territory. The
fourth was also a dreaded bird, which
had seven heads. It lived in Mt. Gurayu
and haunted the adjacent territory.
The people were so scared that
they left their farms and homes and
went into hiding. Soon famine crept into
the land; this was followed by
pestilence. Many people died from
starvation and disease. When the news
about this awful devastation reached the
nearby settlement of Mantapuli, the chief of
the place, Indarapatra was very much
grieved. He called his warrior brother,
Sulayman, and requested the latter to
proceed to Mindanao and save the people
from the monsters.
Adventurous at heart, Sulayman
immediately consented to go to Mindanao.
While he was preparing, Indarapatra gave him a ring and a kris. Then taking a
25
young sapling, Indarapatra
planted it beneath the window of
their house. He said to Sulayman,
“If this tree lives, you live; if it dies,
you die. Also by this tree I shall
know when you are in trouble.”
Riding on the crest of the
mountain wind, Sulayman
reached Kabalalan He found the
land completely in ruins. Not a human being was seen anywhere. A little while,
Sulayman felt the mountain shaking beneath him. Kurita appeared and attacked
the young warrior. Sulayman drew his kris and fought back. The struggle was
long and bloody. In the end, Sulayman was able to conquer Kurita.
From Kabalalan the Mantapuli hero proceeded to Matutum where he
encountered Tarabusaw. The monster warned Sulayman not to attack or he
would be devoured. However, the brave warrior answered that he came on
purpose to fight the monster. Tarabusaw broke big branches of trees and
assailed Sulayman. The young warrior parried the blows and returned the attack.
At last Tarabusaw became exhausted. Seeing this, Sulayman gave the monster
a heavy blow with his sword. The blade found its way through Tarabusaw’s
armpit. The monster gave a horrible cry and fell. As it lay dying, it looked up to
26
Sulayman and congratulated the youthful hero. The latter, however, answered.
“Your evil deeds are responsible for your death and not my skill in combat.”
Sulayman continued his journey. In Mount Bita, he saw far greater
devastation than that in Kabalalan and Matutum. Not a human being remained—
all of them were either devoured by the man-eating monsters or had fled for
safety somewhere else. He looked around.
Suddenly the world became dark. He looked up and he saw a huge bird
descending upon him. He knew he was in danger. He took his sword and struck
the attacking creature. The bird fell dead
Indarapatra’s next stop was in Matutum.
He found in this place the bones of
Tarabusaw, so he continued his way. In
Bita he saw a dead bird. He was about to
leave the place when he saw the severed
wing of the bird at a distance. He went
near and turned it upside. He saw the
bones of a dead man. He recognized the
remains as those of Sulayman because
of the sword lying near the disintegrating
limbs.
Indarapatra cried with grief. He looked for vines with which he could tie
together the bones of his brother because he decided to bring these back to
27
Mantapuli. However, he saw a jar of water not far from him. He knew that the jar
came from the sky. So he reached for it and poured its content over the scattered
bones of Sulayman.
Sulayman stood up, rubbed his eyes as though he had just awakened
from a long sleep. They embraced each other in joy.
Sulayman went home to Mantapuli while Indarapatra proceeded to Mount
Gurayu. There he met the dreadful bird that had seven heads. He conquered this
monster with the use of his sword, juru pakal.
Having vanquished the monster, Indarapatra looked for the inhabitants of the
place. He was about to give up, after several days of futile search, when he saw
a beautiful maiden near a spring. He walked toward her. But the maiden
suddenly disappeared.
Disappointed Indarapatra sat down on a big stone. Looking around, he
saw at a distance a pot of uncooked rice and a big fire. Hard pressed by hunger,
he went near the fire. He sat over the fire and placed the pot on his knees to
cook the rice.
As he was thus cooking, he heard persons talking. One was laughing
while the other was speaking in a hushed voice: “What a powerful man this
stranger must be. Look at him
cook on his knees.”
When Indarapatra looked
back, he saw an old woman

28
staring at him. From this woman, Indarapatra learned about Sulayman’s
encounters with the monsters and how the people went into hiding. After a while,
the old woman led Indarapatra to the cave where the people had gathered. There
the young man saw the beautiful girl he met near the spring but who disappeared
before he could talk to her. Indarapatra related his adventures and that of his
brother. He told the people to go back to their homes because the monsters were
all vanquished. The people rejoiced to hear the news. They all went out and
returned to their farms. The chief gave his daughter to Indarapatra in marriage.
29
LITERARY ANALYSIS
Indarapata at Sulayman
Unkown
This epic was all about King Indarapatra's brother Sulayman's battle with
the monsters. And this is the epic's conclusion:A long, long time ago, Mindanao
was covered with water, and the sea flooded all the lowlands, leaving just the
mountains protruding from it visible. The nation was teeming with people, and the
highlands were filled with villages and settlements. For many years, the people
thrived. Suddenly, four horrible monsters appeared in the land, devouring every
human being they could find. Kurita, a terrible creature with many limbs, lived
partly on land and partly on sea, but its favorite haunt was the mountain where
the rattan palm grew, and here it brought utter destruction on every living thing.
Tarabusaw, the second monster, was an ugly creature in the shape of a man that
lived on Mt. Matutum and consumed people far and wide from there, laying
waste the land.
The third was a giant bird named Pah, which was so large that it blocked
the sun and brought darkness to the planet when it flew. Its egg was the size of a
house. The fourth monster was similarly a terrifying bird, with seven heads and
the ability to see in all directions at the same time. Its haunt was Mt. Bita, and the
only humans who escaped its voracity were those who hid in the mountain
caves. Mt. Gurayan was its home, and like the others, it wreaked havoc on the
region. The death and destruction inflicted by these awful monsters was so
tremendous that word eventually travelled even to the most distant places. -
30
and all nations grieved to hear the sadfate of Mindanao.Now far across the sea, in
the land of the golden sunset, was a city so great that tolook at its many people
would injure the eyes of men. When tidings of these greatdisasters reached this
distant city, the heart of King Indarapatra was filled withcompassion, and he called his
brother, Sulayman, and begged him to preserve Mindanao from the monsters.
Sulayman listened to the account and was filled with pity as he heard it. "I will
go," zealand eagerness adding to his strength, "and the land shall be avenged,"
he said.King Indarapatra, pleased of his brother's bravery, presented him with a
ring and a sword as he wished him success and safety. Then he planted a young
sapling outside his window and told Sulayman, "By this tree, I shall know your
fate from the hour you depart from here, for if you live, it will live; but if you die, it
will also die." So Sulayman left for Mindanao, and he did not travel or use a boat.,
but flew through the air and landed on the rattan-growing mountain. He stood on the summit,
looking about on all sides. He peered across the land and settlements but saw nothing living.
And he wept and called out, "Alas, how pitiful and dreadful is this devastation!"
31
Bantugan (English Version)

Anonymous
Summary of Bantugan An Epic From MIndanao
The Kingdom of Bumbaran

were ruled by King Madali
whose younger brother is Prince
Bantugan.Prince Bantugan was
known for being brave and
handsome, so many maidens are
attracted to him.Because of this,
King Madali was envy to his
younger brother so he
commanded that no one willtalk
to Prince Bantugan and if anyone
does will be given a punishment. Prince Bantugan got ill anddied in the door of the
Kingdom-Between-Two-Seas that was ruled by a good king and the
beautifulprincess Datimbang, his sister.
The king and princess of the kingdom were shocked when they sawthe
corpse of a stranger. The parrot told that it was their master Prince Bantugan
after they knewthat it was him they told it to King Madali. They brought the body
of Prince Bantugan into theKingdom of Bumbaran. King Madali seeing the body
of his brother, blaming himself for the death ofPrince Bantugan. Even though his
32
heart is full of envy to his brother he loved him so much, so hedecided to get the
soul of his brother from the angel of death. After he got the soul of his
brother,King Madali reached their kingdom then he transferred the soul of Prince
Bantugan back to his bodythen the prince was alive as if just awakened from a
deep sleep. King Madali and the kingdomcelebrated the return of their prince.
Mean while,the news came to King Miskoyaw that his brotherdied.
The men of King Miskoyaw attack the Kingdom Of Bumbaran but Prince
Bantugan defeatedthem all and saved the kingdom. The Kingdom Of Bumbaran
discontinued the celebration then KingMadali lost his envy to his younger brother.
Later Prince Bantugan arid Princess Datimbang and lived happily for long years.
33
LITERARY ANALYSIS
Bantugan
Anonymous
The narrative or story with folklore or mythical components. It tells the
story of King Madali and his younger brother, Prince Bantugan, who live in the
Kingdom of Bumbaran.
The story opens by emphasizing Prince Bantugan's extraordinary
attributes of bravery and beauty, which make him exceedingly appealing to
maidens. This instills envy in King Madali, prompting him to issue an edict
prohibiting anybody from speaking with Prince Bantugan under threat of
punishment.
When Prince Bantugan grows ill and dies at the Kingdom-Between-Two-
Seas, tragedy strikes. The corpse is discovered by the kingdom's good king and
beautiful princess, who learn his identity from a talking parrot. They inform King
Madali, who is filled with grief and self-blame after witnessing his brother's body.
Despite his envy for his brother, King Madali sets out on a journey to
reclaim Prince Bantugan's soul from the angel of death. He successfully obtains
the soul and returns it to the Kingdom of Bumbaran, where it is reunited with
Prince Bantugan's body, restoring him.
The kingdom rejoices at Prince Bantugan's return. Their happiness is cut
short when King Miskoyaw learns that his brother has died. The land of
34
Bumbaran is attacked by King Miskoyaw's troops, but Prince Bantugan fights
them all and saves his land.
The story finishes with the Kingdom of Bumbaran suspending the
celebration in order to handle King Miskoyaw's threat. King Madali's envy fades
as a result of this confrontation, and he comes to understand and admire his
brother's qualities. After then, Prince Bantugan and Princess Datimbang live
happily ever after.
From the standpoint of literary analysis, this narrative appears to draw on
components of conventional storytelling, such as themes of envy, atonement,
and brotherly love. It features archetypes such as the envious king, the heroic
prince, and the wise princess. The story also includes mystical elements, such as
an angel of death and a talking parrot, which add to its mythological nature.
The plot movement is straightforward, beginning with the introduction of
the characters and their connections, progressing to a conflict, and concluding
with the restoration of harmony and happiness. The plot is around the effects of
envy, the power of love and forgiveness, and the triumph of good over evil.
Overall, this story presents a moral lesson while employing elements of
folklore and legend, providing readers with an engaging tale that explores
universal themes and values.

35
LITERATURE UNDER THE SPANISH COLONIZATION

Noli Me Tangere ( English Version)
A Summary by SuperSummary
Noli Me Tángere begins at a
dinner party hosted by Captain Don
Santiago (Tiago), a wealthy resident
of Manila. Guests assembled at the
party include other members of the
upper class as well as friars of both
the Dominican and Franciscan orders.
During dinner, Don Crisóstomo Ibarra
arrives—the party being his first stop
post-returning from Europe. He is there to visit his fiancée María-Clara,
Santiago’s daughter. However, the celebratory atmosphere soon turns tense as
one of the friars, Father Dámaso, becomes angry at Ibarra’s arrival. After the
party, Ibarra learns that his father, Don Rafael, died while in prison and Father
Dámaso had his corpse exhumed and removed from the Christian cemetery
(i.e., dumped into a river). The dramatic tension between Ibarra and Dámaso
forms the central conflict.
As Ibarra reacclimates himself to his homeland, he looks to apply his
progressive ideals to make life better for the citizens of San Diego. After
36
meeting with a school teacher, Ibarra’s first act is to build a school. While he
gains support from the local government, the religious order within the town
views the project with suspicion. They begin to see Ibarra as a threat to their
power—with Dámaso in particular seeing him as a rival who must be put in his
place.
Ibarra and María-Clara’s relationship dates back to childhood. However,
Dámaso is the godfather of María-Clara and opposes the marriage. He wishes
to drive the two apart and eventually achieves. He arrives uninvited to a dinner
party hosted by Ibarra and dishonors the memory of his late father, which baits
the latter into retaliation. Ibarra physically attacks Dámaso, holding him at knife
point and threatening to kill him. María-Clara intervenes and prevents Ibarra
from completing the deed, but the damage is done. As punishment for the
assault, Ibarra is excommunicated and thus, the couple’s engagement is
annulled.
The Captain General, the King’s representative in the Philippines,
intercedes on Ibarra’s behalf. Once again, Dámaso and his colleague Father
Salví are disgruntled and see the Captain General’s respect for Ibarra as a
threat to their power. Salví’s role in the novel becomes more prominent after
this incident, as he works on a scheme to take down Ibarra once and for all.
Ibarra befriends Elías, a fellow Filipino who is involved with a subversive
group planning an uprising. Because Elías is knowledgeable of the town’s
underground, he is able to warn Ibarra of the attempts to have him framed and
37
killed. Their friendship is unusual as they are not of the same class, but they
have mutual respect for each other—and this respect enables them to
strengthen their alliance.
Through no fault of his own, Ibarra’s life is turned upside down by the
same forces that claimed the life of his father. As the novel comes to a close,
the progress that Ibarra advocated for is put on hold. However, Dámaso suffers
a private defeat as María-Clara holds a secret against him, one that would
destroy his reputation in town. Dámaso is eventually moved out of San Diego
and with him out of the way, the possibility of reform is made more possible
than ever.
38
LITERARY ANALYSIS
Noli Me Tangere
Dr. Jose Rizal
José Protasio Rizal Mercado y Alonso Realonda is the Philippines'
national hero and the first Asian nationalist. On June 19, 1861, he was born to a
wealthy family in Calamba, Laguna. He attended the Jesuit Ateneo Municipal in
Manila and received numerous literary accolades and prizes. In 1877, he earned
a bachelor of arts degree with honors. He studied at the University of Santo
Tomas for a time before moving to Spain to attend the Central University of
Madrid, where he completed his medical and humanistic studies. He was a
Filipino polymath, nationalist, and the country's most renowned reform advocate
during the Spanish colonial era. He is regarded as the Philippines' national hero,
and the anniversary of his death is marked by a national holiday known as Rizal
Day. Rizal became a martyr of the Philippine Revolution after his military trial and
execution in 1896.
Noli Me Tangere is significant to Filipinos for a variety of reasons. The first
is that it was written by our national hero, Jose Rizal, who was not only a hero
39
but also a valiant martyr and an inspiration to all young people. His book
provided the impetus for the Filipinos' impending power to seek freedom and
independence. His work served as a catalyst for the unification of Filipino
national identity and awareness. Rizal's book, Noli Me Tangere, and its sequel,
El Filibusterismo, caused a lot of noise and have gone down in history. In 1956,
Congress passed Republic Act 1425, sometimes known as the Rizal Law, which
mandated that the novel be taught in all levels of Philippine schools. Noli me
Tangere is taught to third-year secondary school students, while El Filibusterismo
is taught to fourth-year secondary students.
For us, "Noli Me Tangere" was written for power, to feed people's thirst for
change and liberation. The novel is a fictional story, but it reveals the hidden
facts of the colonial government's and the Catholic Church's corruption and
abuse. In his work, Rizal addressed the emerging national consciousness of
many Filipinos who were opposed to Spanish colonial rule and aspired to
democratic liberties. It also perfectly demonstrated the harsh truth about how we,
Filipinos, have historically faced slavery. Spaniards are corrupted and abused. It
was an indirect spark that ignited the flames of revolution, a wake-up call for all
Filipinos to break free from their hypnosis of a so-called "harmonious and
peaceful" relationship with the Spaniards. Noli Me Tangere gave us power; it was
the germ that inspired us to quit being ignorant and to seek independence and
freedom. Rizal's literature was created to spark the burgeoning nationalism that
will aid Filipinos in breaking free from the bonds of abuse.

40
41
El Filibusterismo (English Version)

Dr. Jose Rizal
A Summary by Super Summary
The protagonist from the first novel, Noli

Me Tángere, Juan Crisóstomo Ibarra, returns
to the Philippines in the guise of Simoun, a
suspected American jeweler who is close to
the Captain-General, the Spanish governor of
the colonial Philippines. When first
introduced, Simoun is aboard a steamship
with other characters from the first novel,
notably several clerics, and advises
draconian means for dealing with
insubordinate Filipinos. The novel’s second protagonist and returning character,
Basilio, is below deck. The wealthy Spaniards sit above deck, while the vast
majority of the ship, Filipino and Chinese passengers, sit below deck. Basilio is a
medical student and speaking with his friend, Isagani. Simoun comes down and
speaks with the two students; he invites them to have beer with him. They
decline, but Isagani goes above deck to speak to his uncle. There, the reader
learns of legends about the Pasig River, specifically the legend about Ibarra’s
death.
42
The novel shifts to Cabesang Tales, an important secondary character in
the novel. He’s worked hard to obtain a parcel of land, farm it, and become
successful, but a local friar claims the land for the Church and forces him to pay
an ever-increasing portion of his earnings. Eventually, Tales is driven from his
land; he flees and becomes a bandit, and his daughter becomes a servant. His
daughter, Julí, is to wed Basilio, as he’s able to repay the debt she owes and free
her from servitude to Señora Penchang.
One evening, Basilio visits his mother’s grave near the mausoleum on the
former Ibarra estate. Simoun appears, and Basilio startles him when he
recognizes Simoun as Crisóstomo Ibarra. Ibarra and Basilio know each other
from the first novel, as Ibarra helped bury Basilio’s mother. Basilio’s brother
disappeared in the first novel, supposedly murdered by an angry sexton. Simoun
informs Basilio of his plan to sow resentment in the Filipino populace and
instigate a revolt against the Spanish government, especially the corrupt clergy.
Basilio has found comfort and hope through the patronage of Captain Tiago, and
doesn’t want to participate in Simoun’s plan. Simoun lets him go, assured that
patience is key, and that the system will eventually drive Basilio to him.
At a Manila university, students Basilio, Isagani, Placido Penitente,
Makaraig, and Juanito Peláez suffer from the racial whims of their clerical
professors. They’re forced to memorize the contents of books rather than learn
their contents. Placido feels so discriminated against that he tells off his
professor and leaves. The other students form a Student Union that wishes to
43
establish a Castilian Academy attached to the university, for the sole purpose of
teaching the Spanish language. The notion causes political concerns among the
Spanish, especially the clergy. Eventually, the Student Union’s plan is approved
with a major caveat, devised by Don Custodio: The academy will be established,
but it won’t be attached to the university, nor led by the Dominicans, but rather
the Franciscans. The students are unhappy with the result and meet to discuss it.
he next day, a series of broadsides against the clergy, government, and
university are posted on the university gates. As a result, many students are
suspended or arrested; Basilio, Isagani, and Makaraig are all arrested. Everyone
is eventually set free, because their families can pay for their release, but
because Basilio has no one, he remains in prison. When he is finally freed by
Simoun, Basilio is a changed man, no longer confident in the system, and joins
Simoun’s plan. Simoun wishes to free María Clara from the convent where she’s
been staying ever since she learned of his (Ibarra’s) death, but before he can
initiate his plan, he learns from Basilio that María Clara recently died. Simoun
falls ill and disappears for a while.
Things slowly go back to normal, except Basilio remains aloof and Loses
his patron, Captain Tiago, to death. Student Juanito Peláez, the son of wealthy
merchant Timoteo Peláez, is able to win the hand of Paulita Gómez. Their
wedding is announced and Simoun, now healthy again, plans to use it to restart
his revolutionary plans. He constructs a special lamp filled with nitroglycerin to be
used at the wedding. Using his reputation, he is also able to have many bags of
44
dynamite placed under the house where the wedding reception will be held; the
lamp will explode, killing everyone in the room, and will ignite the dynamite to kill
those who try to escape. Cabesang Tales will then attack the city with his armed
bandits. Basilio is to help others secure bridges and kill anyone who opposes
their plan.
Basilio secretly follows Simoun to Timoteo Peláez’s house, realizing it’s
Captain Tiago’s old house. The upper echelons, including the Captain-General,
are present. Basilio sees Simoun leave the house, pale. Isagani passes by, and
Basilio warns him of what’s to come and runs away. Because Isagani and Paulita
used to be in love, Isagani rushes into the house, grabs the lamp, and throws it
and himself into the nearby river.
Rumors of what happened at Timoteo Peláez’s house, and what might
have happened had a thief not taken the rigged lamp, course through Manila.
Isagani learns of what he hindered, and feels apologetic, as do others who would
have liked to have been rid of the people at the wedding party. Simoun is indicted
of sedition, but escapes; the Civil Guard tracks him down. He takes shelter with
Father Florentino (Isagani’s uncle) at the latter’s seaside retreat. Simoun learns
that the Civil Guard is coming for him and takes a vial of poison. He confesses to
Father Florentino who he is and tells him his history: After being falsely accused
of sedition, Ibarra fled with the help of a friend, Elías. He used some of his
family’s wealth, which Elías secured for him, to escape to Cuba where he fought
for both sides (Cuban and Spanish), accumulating wealth in the process. He
45
befriended and aided the Captain-General and accompanied him when he
became governor of the Philippines. Ibarra then used the Captain-General’s lust
for gold to influence him to incite injustice and inflame the Filipino people to
revolt. Father Florentino explains that Simoun failed because God could not
condone Ibarra’s methods for obtaining freedom. Simoun/Ibarra dies,
begrudgingly accepting Florentino’s explanation. Father Florentino then takes
Simoun’s jewel case and tosses it into the sea because he doesn’t want the Civil
Guard to confiscate it and use the wealth for evil.

46
LITERARY ANALYSIS
El Filibusterismo
Dr. Jse Rizal
Filipinos felt that one of the novels that started the revolution was El
Filibusterismo. It is an account of the injustices suffered by Filipinos under the
Spanish rule. El Filibusterismo is more than just a common story that we hear
and read everywhere; it is a story that must be thoroughly examined in order to
understand what the objects and people signify. After reading El Filibusterismo
several times, we recognized that there are teachings that are still relevant now,
since we face the same challenges as we did before. The first thing that caught
our attention and captivated us was the way Rizal portrayed the steamship tabo.
The way the ship is divided into two halves, upper and lower decks, illustrates the
division between Spaniards and Indians.
Today, we can interpret this as the rich being at the top and the poor being
at the bottom since they are not treated equitably. The ship was also described
as slow going, which depicts the country's gradual progress under Spanish
authority, despite the promise of assisting us in our progress. The whitewashed
walls that cover the dirt and rust represent societal inequities and an undesirable
manner of controlling us that went unnoticed since the Spaniards used God's
name for their own purposes. Because there is no specific goal and purpose, the
circular design of the boat implies that there is no progress and that the
government is in a cyclical movement.

47
48
Urbana and Feliza (English Version)

Modesto de Castro
A book by Modesto de Castro,

the so called Father of Classic Prose
in Tagalog. These are letters between
teo sisters Urbana and Felisa and
have influenced greatly the behavior
of people in society because the
letters dealt with good behavior. Its
author used the epistolary style where
in a series of thurty-four letters,
members of a family in Paombong,
Bulacan gave each other advice on
the ideal conduct and behavior expected of a middle-class and Christian family.
Thus in her letter to her younger siblings Felisa and Honesto, who remained in
Paombong, Urbana , who left for Manila to study, wrote not only of the need to
follow the values and norms found in Christian teacihing, but as importantly, to
observe the proper mode of conduct as one dealt with people in society. The
series of correspondences, including a letter from a priest on the duties and
responsibilities of married life, touched on various facets of experience that a
person underwent from birth to death both in the secular and spiritual realms.
49
Urbana and Felisa enjoyed tremendous popularity not only in nineteenth
century but in the first half of the twentieth century as proven by the numerous
reprints and translations it underwent.

50
LITERARY ANALYSIS
Urbana at Felisa
Modesto de Castro
The ideological reproduction of femininity portrayed in the literary text
comprises the ideology of the devout woman, the ideology of motherhood and
domesticity, the ideology of purity, chastity, and virginity, and the ideology of
inferiority. It depicts Filipino habits and values such as respect for elders,
nunnery, and conservatism. Also, asking your elders before allowing a man to
woo you is one of the Filipino principles that we have kept.

51
To My Fellow Children
Dr. José Rizal
(English version of “Sa Aking mga Kababata”)
Whenever people of a country truly love
The language which by heav'n they were taught to use
That country also surely liberty pursue
As does the bird which soars to freer space above.
For language is the final judge and referee
Upon the people in the land where it holds sway;
In truth our human race resembles in this way
The other living beings born in liberty.
Whoever knows not how to love his native tongue
Is worse than any best or evil smelling fish.
To make our language richer ought to be our wish
The same as any mother loves to feed her young.
Tagalog and the Latin language are the same
And English and Castilian and the angels' tongue;
And God, whose watchful care o'er all is flung,
Has given us His blessing in the speech we calim,

52
Our mother tongue, like all the highest tht we know
Had alphabet and letters of its very own;
But these were lost -- by furious waves were overthrown
Like bancas in the stormy sea, long years ago.

53
LITERARY ANALYSIS
To My Fellow Children
Dr. Jose Rizal
Jose Rizal wrote the poem "My Fellow Children" to urge young people to
use their talents and be the best they can be. He also wrote it to encourage
young people to be proud of who they are, with the first step being to speak or
talk in their mother tongue or native language.
The poem is about patriotism and love for our nation; it states that we
should be proud of our country and, more importantly, our language; it also
states that anyone who does not know how to speak our native tongue or
language is worse than a beast or a smelly fish.
Dr. Jose Rizal penned the poem To the Filipino Young for the youth of the
Philippines. He hoped that Filipino youth would excel not only for their own
benefit, but also for the sake of the country. Dr. Jose Rizal advocated for Filipino
youth to develop their talents and use them to help those.
The moral that our hero Jose Rizal is aiming to instill in us through the
poem is that we should love our country because our forebears battled for us to
have our own country that was not subject to the authority of anyone else, and
we should be proud of everything that our country possesses!

54
Literature Under the American Colonization
El Renacimientp
(Published by :Fernando Ma. Guerrero, Teodoro M. Kalaw, and Rafael Palma)
(English version ‘The Rebirth’)
('The Rebirth') was a bilingual Spanish–Tagalog language newspaper. It
was printed in Manila until the 1940s by the members of the Guerrero de Ermita
family. Its directors were Fernando Ma. Guerrero, Teodoro M. Kalaw, and Rafael
Palma and its editors were Wenceslao Retana, Javier Gomez de la
Serna, Dominador Gomez, Isabelo de los Reyes, and Felipe Calderon.
The paper was first published on September 3, 1901, and was founded as a
response to the signing of the Treaty of Paris, which derailed the Philippines'
struggle for sovereignty. The paper was openly critical of the United States'
colonial regime and its policies.
The paper shut down due to official pressure after publishing an editorial
that dealt with corruption in the colonial government. It was re-established by
Don Martin Ocampo, who had been the business manager and principal owner,
under the name of La Vanguardia, with Taliba as its Tagalog edition.
On October 30, 1908, El Renacimiento published an editorial entitled
"Aves de Rapiña" ("Bird of Prey"), which dealt with corruption in the colonial
government.
55
The newspaper was sued for libel by Dean Conant Worcester, then-secretary of
the interior of the Insular Government of the Philippines. Worcester felt he was
alluded to by the description of someone who had "the characteristics of the
vulture, the owl and the vampire." According to historian Ambeth Ocampo,
Worcester allegedly used his position as interior secretary to profit from the sale
of diseased beef. He was also alleged to have profited from overpriced hotel
concessions on government land.
Worcester's lawsuit pushed the paper toward bankruptcy, which led to the
paper's closure. Kalaw and publisher Martin Ocampo were sentenced to prison.
However, the two were given pardons in 1914 by Governor-General Francis
Burton Harrison.
The essay has become part of the required reading list in Philippine
colleges. El Renacimiento is remembered as an anti-colonial publication that
fought for press freedom during the American colonial period.

56
LITERARY ANALYSIS
El Renacimiento
Published by :Fernando Ma. Guerrero, Teodoro M. Kalaw, and Rafael Palma
This article illustrates how important the Spanish press was in the
Philippines during the last 30 years of Spanish colonial rule and the early period
of American colonial administration. Using archival material from the period, it
reveals how the American colonial administration complained that the
newspapers in the Philippines were mainly political, a Spanish inheritance in the
archipelago as many newspapers were founded in the Philippines in the 1890s of
the nineteenth century after the law of press was passed in 1883. This article
also emphasizes the political clout papers possessed and the threats that they
posed to the new American administration.
In particular, this article shows how newspapers such as El Renacimiento
avoided censorship and dared to say what other parties did not. El Renacimiento
was a voice for Philippine national hero Jose Rizal and what they published in
“Our Wishes” were Rizalʼs wishes for his country. An analysis of articles in El
Renacimiento demonstrates that the censorship of the press was attenuated and
depended on the governor-general.
Therefore, this article questions the influential argument in Philippine
historiography about Spanish censorship of the press. El Renacimiento served
as an example for other newspapers that were founded during the beginning of
the American colonial administration such as La Independencia and above all El

57
Renacimiento. As an organ of the Nationalist party, El Renacimiento came to
exert real power in Manila that influenced the government. The journal waged
brilliant battles, the most important from 1904 onwards in the form of public
reports of abuses committed by the constabulary.
In addition, in September 1906, the journal El Renacimiento criticized,
through several articles, James A. LeRoyʼs statement about William H. Taft being
“the best and most influential friend of the Filipinos.” El Renacimiento, which had
become a potent political force, had stated that Taft showed himself in public to
be a friend of the Filipinos, while in private he considered them to be “childish.”
LeRoy felt annoyed with the journal and decided to write a long letter to El
Renacimiento which was published in several supplements in January of 1907.
As this article makes clear, LeRoy used his defense of Taft as an excuse to
attack the enemies of American rule. In sum, El Renacimiento suffered real press
censorship and was forced to close in 1908, leading to the demise of publications
in the Spanish language.

58
Dead Stars
Paz Marquez Benitez
Through the open window the air-steeped

outdoors passed into his room, quietly
enveloping him, stealing into his very thought.
Esperanza, Julia, the sorry mess he had made of
life, the years to come even now beginning to
weigh down, to crush--they lost concreteness,
diffused into formless melancholy. The tranquil
murmur of conversation issued from the brick-
tiled azotea where Don Julian and Carmen were busy puttering away among the
rose pots.
"Papa, and when will the 'long table' be set?"
"I don't know yet. Alfredo is not very specific, but I understand Esperanza
wants it to be next
month."
Carmen sighed impatiently. "Why is he not a bit more decided, I wonder.
He is over thirty, is he not? And still a bachelor! Esperanza must be tired waiting."
"She does not seem to be in much of a hurry either," Don Julian nasally
commented, while his rose scissors busily snipped away.

59
"How can a woman be in a hurry when the man does not hurry her?"
Carmen returned, pinching off a worm with a careful, somewhat absent air.
"Papa, do you remember how much in love he
was?"
"In love? With whom?"
"With Esperanza, of course. He has not had another love affair that I know
of," she said with good-natured contempt. "What I mean is that at the beginning
he was enthusiastic --flowers, serenades, notes, and things like that--"
Alfredo remembered that period with a wonder not unmixed with shame.
That was less than four years ago. He could not understand those months of a
great hunger that was not of the body nor yet of the mind, a craving that had
seized on him one quiet night when the moon was abroad and donnled shadow
of the trees in the plaza. man wooed maid. Was he being cheated by under the
dappled shadow of the trees in the plaza, man wooed maid. Was he being
cheated by life? Love--he seemed to have missed it. Or was the love that others
told about a mere fabrication of perfervid imagination, an exaggeration of the
commonplace, a glorification of insipid monotonies such as made up his love
life? Was love a combination of circumstances, or sheer native capacity of soul?
In those days love was, for him, still the eternal puzzle; for love, as he knew it,
was a stranger to love as he divined it might be.
2 of 16 Sitting quietly in his room now, he could almost revive the
restlessness of those days, the feeling of tumultuous haste, such as he knew so

60
well in his boyhood when something beautiful was going on somewhere and he
was trying to get there in time to see. "Hurry, hurry, or you will miss it," someone
had seemed to urge in his ears. So he had avidly seized on the shadow of Love
and
deluded himself for a long while in the way of humanity from time
immemorial. In the meantime, he became very much engaged to Esperanza.
Why would men so mismanage their lives? Greed, he thought, was what
ruined so many. Greed--
the desire to crowd into a moment all the enjoyment it will hold, to squeeze
from the hour all the emotion it will yield. Men commit themselves when but half-
meaning to do so, sacrificing possible future fullness of ecstasy to the craving for
immediate excitement. Greed—mortgaging the future--forcing the hand of Time,
or of Fate.
"What do you think happened?" asked Carmen, pursuing her thought.
"I supposed long-engaged people are like that; warm now, cool tomorrow.
I think they are oftener cool than warm. The very fact that an engagement has
been allowed to prolong itself orques a certain placidity of temperament--or of
affection--on the part of either, or both." Don Julian loved to philosophize. He was
talking now with an evident relish in words, his resonant, very nasal voice toned
down to monologue pitch. "That phase you were speaking of is natural enough
for a beginning. Besides, that, as I see it, was Alfredo's last race with escaping
youth--"Carmen laughed aloud at the thought of her brother's perfect physical

61
repose--almost indolence-- disturbed in the role suggested by her father's
figurative language.
"A last spurt of hot blood," finished the old man.
Few certainly would credit Alfredo Salazar with hot blood. Even his friends had
amusedly diagnosed his blood as cool and thin, citing incontrovertible evidence.
Tall and slender, he moved with an indolent ease that verged on grace. Under
straight recalcitrant hair, a thin face with a satisfying breadth of forehead, slow,
dreamer's eyes, and astonishing freshness of lips-- indeed Alfredo Salazar's
appearance betokened little of exuberant masculinity; rather a poet with wayward
humor, a fastidious artist with keen, clear brain. He rose and quietly went out of
the house. He lingered a moment on the stone steps; then went down the path
shaded by immature acacias, through the little tarred gate which he left swinging
back and forth, now opening, now closing, on the gravel road bordered along the
farther side by madre cacao hedge in tardy lavender bloom.
The gravel road narrowed as it slanted up to the house on the hill, whose wide,
open porches he could glimpse through the heat-shr ivelled tamarinds in the
Martinez yard. Six weeks ago that house meant nothing to him save that it was
the Martinez house, rented and occupied by Judge del Valle and his family. Six
weeks ago Julia Salas meant nothing to him; he did not even know her name; but
now--
One evening he had gone "neighboring" with Don Julian; a rare enough
occurrence, since he made it a point to avoid all appearance of currying favor

62
with the Judge. This particular evening however, he had allowed himself to be
persuaded. "A little mental relaxation now and then is beneficial," the old man
had said. "Besides, a judge's good will, you know;" the rest of the thought--"is
worth a rising young lawyer's trouble"--Don Julian conveyed through a shrug and
a smile that derided his own worldly wisdom.
A young woman had met them at the door. It was evident from the
excitement of the Judge's children that she was a recent and very welcome
arrival. In the characteristic Filipino way formal introductions had been omitted--
the judge limiting himself to a casual "Ah, ya se conocen?"-- with the
consequence that Alfredo called her Miss del Valle throughout the evening. He
was puzzled that she should smile with evident delight every time he addressed
her thus.
Later Don Julian informed him that she was not the Judge's sister, as he
had supposed, but his sister-in-law, and that her name was Julia Salas. A very
dignified rather austere name, he thought. Still, the young lady should have
corrected him. As it was, he was greatly embarrassed, and felt that he should
explain.
To his apology, she replied, "That is nothing, Each time I was about to
correct you, but I remembered a similar experience I had once before."
"Oh," he drawled out, vastly relieved.

63
"A man named Manalang--I kept calling him Manalo. After the tenth time
or so, the young man rose from his seat and said suddenly, 'Pardon me, but my
name is Manalang, Manalang.' You know, I never forgave him!"
He laughed with her.
"The best thing to do under the circumstances, I have found out," she pursued,
"is to pretend not to hear, and to let the other person find out his mistake without
help." "As you did this time. Still, you looked amused every time I--"
"I was thinking of Mr. Manalang."
Don Julian and his uncommunicative friend, the Judge, were absorbed in a game
of chess. The young man had tired of playing appreciative spectator and
desultory conversationalist, so he and Julia Salas had gone off to chat in the
vine-covered porch. The lone piano in the neighborhood alternately tinkled and
banged away as the player's moods altered. He listened, and wondered
irrelevantly if Miss Salas could sing; she had such a charming speaking voice. He
was mildly surprised to note from her appearance that she was unmistakably a
sister of the Judge's wife, although Doña Adela was of a different type altogether.
She was small and plump,
with wide brown eyes, clearly defined eyebrows, and delicately modeled hips--a
pretty woman with the complexion of a baby and the expression of a likable cow.
Julia was taller, not so obviously pretty. She had the same eyebrows and lips, but
she was much darker, of a smooth rich brown with underlying tones of crimson
which heightened the impression she gave of abounding vitality.

64
On Sunday mornings after mass, father and son would go crunching up
the gravel road to the house on the hill. The Judge's wife invariably offered them
beer, which Don Julian enjoyed and Alfredo did not. After a half hour or so, the
chessboard would be brought out; then Alfredo and Julia Salas would go out to
the porch to chat. She sat in the low hammock and he in a rocking chair and the
hours--warm, quiet March hours--sped by. He enjoyed talking with her and it was
evident that she liked his company; yet what feeling there was between them
was so undisturbed that it seemed a matter of course. Only when Esperanza
chanced to ask him indirectly about those visits did some uneasiness creep into
his thoughts of the girl next door. Esperanza had wanted to know if he went
straight home after mass. Alfredo suddenly realized that for several Sundays now
he had not waited for Esperanza to come out of the church as he had been wont
to do. He had been eager to go "neighboring."
He answered that he went home to work. And, because he was not
habitually untruthful, added,
"Sometimes I go with Papa to Judge del Valle's."
She dropped the topic. Esperanza was not prone to indulge in unprovoked
jealousies. She was a believer in the regenerative virtue of institutions, in their
power to regulate feeling as well as conduct. If a man were married, why, of
course, he loved his wife; if he were engaged, he could not possibly love another
woman.
65
That half-lie told him what he had not admitted openly to himself, that he
was giving Julia Salas something which he was not free to give. He realized that;
yet something that would not be denied beckoned imperiously, and he followed
on. It was so easy to forget up there, away from the prying eyes of the world, so
easy and so poignantly sweet. The beloved woman, he standing close to her, the
shadows around, enfolding.
"Up here I find--something--"
He and Julia Salas stood looking out into the she quiet night. Sensing unwanted
intensity,mlaughed, woman-like, asking, "Amusement?"
"No; youth--its spirit--"
"Are you so old?"
"And heart's desire."
Was he becoming a poet, or is there a poet lurking in the heart of every man?
"Down there," he had continued, his voice somewhat indistinct, "the road is too
broad, too trodden by feet, too barren of mystery."
"Down there" beyond the ancient tamarinds lay the road, upturned to the
stars. In the darkness the fireflies glimmered, while an errant breeze strayed in
from somewhere, bringing elusive, faraway sounds as of voices in a dream.
"Mystery--" she answered lightly, "that is so brief--"
"Not in some," quickly. "Not in you."
"You have known me a few weeks; so the mystery."
"I could study you all my life and still not find it."
66
"So long?"
"I should like to."
Those six weeks were now so swift--seeming in the memory, yet had they been
so deep in the living, so charged with compelling power and sweetness. Because
neither the past nor the future had relevance or meaning, he lived only the
present, day by day, lived it intensely, with such a willful shutting out of fact as
astounded him in his calmer moments.
Just before Holy Week, Don Julian invited the judge and his family to
spend Sunday afternoon at Tanda where he had a coconut plantation and a
house on the beach. Carmen also came with her four energetic children. She and
Doña Adela spent most of the time indoors directing the preparation of the
merienda and discussing the likeable absurdities of their husbands—how
Carmen's Vicente was so absorbed in his farms that he would not even take time
off to accompany her on this visit to her father; how Doña Adela's Dionisio was
the most absentminded
of men, sometimes going out without his collar, or with unmatched socks.
After the merienda, Don Julian sauntered off with the judge to show him
what a thriving young coconut looked like--"plenty of leaves, close set, rich
green"--while the children, convoyed by Julia Salas, found unending
entertainment in the rippling sand left by the ebbing tide. They were far down,
walking at the edge of the water, indistinctly outlined against the gray of the out-
curving beach.
67
Alfredo left his perch on the bamboo ladder of the house and followed.
Here were her footsteps, narrow, arched. He laughed at himself for his black
canvas footwear which he removed forthwith and tossed high up on dry sand.
When he came up, she flushed, then smiled with frank pleasure.
"I hope you are enjoying this," he said with a questioning inflection.
"Very much. It looks like home to me, except that we do not have such a lovely
beach."
There was a breeze from the water. It blew the hair away from her
forehead, and whipped the tucked-up skirt around her straight, slender figure. In
the picture was something of eager freedom as of wings poised in flight. The girl
had grace, distinction. Her face was not notably pretty; yet she had a tantalizing
charm, all the more compelling because it was an inner quality, an achievement
of the spirit. The lure was there, of naturalness, of an alert vitality of mind and
body, of a thoughtful, sunny temper, and of a piquant perverseness which is
sauce to charm.
"The afternoon has seemed very short, hasn't it?" Then, "This, I think, is
the last time--we can visit."
"The last? Why?"
"Oh, you will be too busy perhaps."
He noted an evasive quality in the answer.
"Do I seem especially industrious to you?"
you are, you never look it."

68
"Not perspiring or breathless, as a busy man ought to be."
"If
"But--"
"Always unhurried, too unhurried, and calm." She smiled to herself.
"I wish that were true," he said after a meditative pause.
She waited.
"A man is happier if he is, as you say, calm and placid."
"Like a carabao in a mud pool," she retorted perversely
"Who? I?"
"Oh, no!"
"You said I am calm and placid."
"That is what I think."
"I used to think so too. Shows how little we know ourselves."
It was strange to him that he could be wooing thus: with tone and look and
covert phrase.
"I should like to see your home town."
"There is nothing to see--little crooked streets, bunut roofs with ferns
growing on them, and
sometimes squashes."
That was the background. It made her seem less detached, less
unrelated, yet withal more distant, as if that background claimed her and
excluded him.
69
"Nothing? There is you."
"Oh, me? But I am here."
"I will not go, of course, until you are there."
"Will you come? You will find it dull. There isn't even one American there!"
"Well-Americans are rather essential to my entertainment."
She laughed.
"We live on Calle Luz, a little street with trees."
"Could I find that?"
"If you I don't ask for Miss del Valle," she smiled teasingly.
"I'll inquire about--"
"What?"
"The house of the prettiest girl in the town."
"There is where you will lose your way." Then she turned serious. "Now,
that is not quite
sincere."
"It is," he averred slowly, but emphatically.
"I thought you, at least, would not say such things."
"Pretty--pretty--a foolish word! But there is none other more handy I did
not mean that quite--"
"Are you withdrawing the compliment?"
"Re-enforcing it, maybe. Something is pretty when it pleases the eye--it is
more than that when—

70
"If it saddens?" she interrupted hastily.
"Exactly."
"It must be ugly."
"Always?"
Toward the west, the sunlight lay on the dimming waters in a broad,
glinting streamer of
crimsoned gold.
"No, of course you are right."
"Why did you say this is the last time?" he asked quietly as they turned
back.
"I am going home."
The end of an impossible dream!
"When?" after a long silence.
"Tomorrow. I received a letter from Father and Mother yesterday. They
want me to spend Holy
Week at home."
She seemed to be waiting for him to speak. "That is why I said this is the
last time."
"Can't I come to say good-bye?"
"Oh, you don't need to!"
"No, but I want to."
"There is no time."
71
The golden streamer was withdrawing, shortening, until it looked no more
than a pool far away
at the rim of the world. Stillness, a vibrant quiet that affects the senses as
does solemn harmony;
A peace that is not contentment but a cessation of tumult when all
violence of feeling tones down to the wistful serenity of regret. She turned and
looked into his face, in her dark eyes a ghost of
sunset sadness.
"Home seems so far from here. This is almost like another life."
"I know. This is Elsewhere, and yet strange enough, I cannot get rid of the
old things."
"Old things?"
"Oh, old things, mistakes, encumbrances, old baggage." He said it lightly,
unwilling to mar the
hour.
He walked close, his hand sometimes touching hers for one whirling
second.
Don Julian's nasal summons came to them on the wind.
Alfredo gripped the soft hand so near his own. At his touch, the girl turned
her face away, but he heard her voice say very low, "Good-bye."
II
72
ALFREDO Salazar turned to the right where, farther on, the road
broadened and entered the
heart of the town--heart of Chinese stores sheltered under low-hung roofs, of
indolent drug stores
and tailor shops, of dingy shoe-repairing establishments, and a cluttered
goldsmith's cubbyhole where a consumptive bent over a magnifying lens; heart of
old brick-roofed houses with quaint hand-and-ball knockers on the door; heart of
grass-grown plaza reposeful with trees, of ancient church and convento, now
circled by swallows gliding in flight as smooth and soft as the afternoon itself. Into
the quickly deepening twilight, the voice of the biggest of the church bells women
in vivid apparel (for this was Holy Thursday and the Lord was still alive), older
women in sober black skirts. Came too the young men in droves, elbowing each
other under the Talisay tree near the church door.
The gaily decked rice-paper lanterns were again on display while from
the windows of the older houses hung colored glass globes, heirlooms from a
day when grasspith wicks floating in coconut oil were the chief lighting device.
Soon a double row of lights emerged from the church and uncoiled down the
length of the street like a huge jewelled band studded with glittering clusters
where the saints' platforms were.
Above the measured music rose the untutored voices of the choir, steeped
in incense and the
acrid fumes of burning wax.

73
The sight of Esperanza and her mother sedately pacing behind Our Lady
of Sorrows suddenly
destroyed the illusion of continuity and broke up those lines of light into
component individuals.
Esperanza stiffened self-consciously, tried to look unaware, and could not.
The line moved on. Suddenly, Alfredo's slow blood began to beat violently,
irregularly. A girl was coming down the
line--a girl that was striking, and vividly alive, the woman that could cause violent
commotion in his heart, yet had no place in the completed ordering of his life.
Her glance of abstracted devotion fell on him and came to a brief stop.
The line kept moving on, wending its circuitous route away from the church and
then back again, where, according to the old proverb, all processions end.
At last Our Lady of Sorrows entered the church, and with her the priest
and the choir, whose voices now echoed from the arched ceiling. The bells rang
the close of the procession.
A round orange moon, "huge as a winnowing basket," rose lazily into a
clear sky, whitening the
iron roofs and dimming the lanterns at the windows. Along the still densely
shadowed streets the young women with their rear guard of males loitered and,
maybe, took the longest way home.
Toward the end of the row of Chinese stores, he caught up with Julia
Salas. The crowd had

74
dispersed into the side streets, leaving Calle Real to those who lived farther out.
It was past eight, and Esperanza would be expecting him in a little while: yet the
thought did not hurry him as he said "Good evening" and fell into step with the
girl.
"I had been thinking all this time that you had gone," he said in a voice that
was both excited and troubled.
"No, my sister asked me to stay until they are ready to go."
"Oh, is the Judge going?"
The provincial docket had been cleared, and Judge del Valle had been
assigned elsewhere. As lawyer--and as lover--Alfredo had found that out long
before.
"Mr. Salazar," she broke into his silence, "I wish to congratulate you."
Her tone told him that she had learned, at last. That was inevitable.
"For what?"
"For your approaching wedding."
Some explanation was due her, surely. Yet what could he say that would
not offend?
"I should have offered congratulations long before, but you know mere
visitors are slow about
getting the news," she continued.
He listened not so much to what she said as to the nuances in her voice.
He heard nothing to enlighten him, except that she had reverted to the formal
75
tones of early acquaintance. No revelation there; simply the old voice--cool,
almost detached from personality, flexible and vibrant, suggesting potentialities of
song.
"Are weddings interesting to you?" he finally brought out quietly
"When they are of friends, yes."
"Would you come if I asked you?"
"When is it going to be?"
"May," he replied briefly, after a long pause.
"May is the month of happiness they say," she said, with what seemed to
him a shade of irony.
"They say," slowly, indifferently. "Would you come?"
"Why not?"
"No reason. I am just asking. Then you will?"
"If you will ask me," she said with disdain.
"Then I ask you."
"Then I will be there."
The gravel road lay before them; at the road's end the lighted windows of
the house on the hill.
There swept over the spirit of Alfredo Salazar a longing so keen that it was
pain, a wish that, that house were his, that all the bewilderments of the present
were not, and that this woman by his side were his long wedded wife, returning
with him to the peace of home.

76
"Julita," he said in his slow, thoughtful manner, "did you ever have to
choose between something you wanted to do and something you had to do?"
"No!"
"I thought maybe you had had that experience; then you could understand
a man who was in such a situation."
"You are fortunate," he pursued when she did not answer.
"Is--is this man sure of what he should do?"
"I don't know, Julita. Perhaps not. But there is a point where a thing
escapes us and rushes downward of its own weight, dragging us along. Then it is
foolish to ask whether one will or will not, because it no longer depends on him."
"But then why--why--" her muffled voice came. "Oh, what do I know? That
is his problem after all."
"Doesn't it--interest you?"
"Why must it? I--I have to say good-bye, Mr. Salazar; we are at the
house."
Without lifting her eyes she quickly turned and walked away.
Had the final word been said? He wondered. It had. Yet a feeble flutter of
hope trembled in his mind though set against that hope were three years of
engagement, a very near wedding, perfect understanding between the parents,
his own conscience, and Esperanza herself—Esperanza waiting, Esperanza no
longer young, Esperanza the efficient, the literal-minded, the intensely
acquisitive.
77
He looked attentively at her where she sat on the sofa, appraisingly, and
with a kind of aversion which he tried to control.
She was one of those fortunate women who have the gift of uniformly
acceptable appearance.
She never surprised one with unexpected homeliness nor with startling
reserves of beauty. At home, in church, on the street, she was always herself, a
woman past first bloom, light and clear of complexion, spare of arms and of
breast, with a slight convexity to thin throat; a woman dressed with self-conscious
care, even elegance; a woman distinctly not average.
She was pursuing an indignant relation about something or other,
something about Calixta, their note-carrier, Alfredo perceived, so he merely half-
listened, understanding imperfectly. At a pause he drawled out to fill in the gap:
"Well, what of it?" The remark sounded ruder than he had intended.
"She is not married to him," Esperanza insisted in her thin, nervously
pitched voice. "Besides, she should have thought of us. Nanay practically
brought her up. We never thought she would turn out bad."
What had Calixta done? Homely, middle-aged Calixta?
"You are very positive about her badness," he commented dryly.
Esperanza was always positive.
"But do you approve?"
"Of what?"
"What she did."

78
"No," indifferently.
"Well?"
He was suddenly impelled by a desire to disturb the unvexed orthodoxy of
her mind. "All I say is that it is not necessarily wicked."
"Why shouldn't it be? You talked like an--immoral man. I did not know that
your ideas were like that."
"My ideas?" he retorted, goaded by a deep, accumulated exasperation.
"The only test I wish to
apply to conduct is the test of fairness. Am I injuring anybody? No? Then I am
justified in my conscience. I am right. Living with a man to whom she is not
married--is that it? It may be wrong, and again it may not."
"She has injured us. She was ungrateful." Her voice was tight with
resentment.
"The trouble with you, Esperanza, is that you are--" he stopped, appalled
by the passion in his voice.
"Why do you get angry? I do not understand you at all! I think I know why
you have been indifferent to me lately. I am not blind, or deaf, I see and hear
what perhaps some are trying to keep from me." The blood surged into his very
eyes and his hearing sharpened to points of acute pain. What would she say
next?
"Why don't you speak out frankly before it is too late? You need not think
of me and of what people will say." Her voice trembled.

79
Alfredo was suffering as he could not remember ever having suffered
before. What people will say--what will they not say? What don't they say when
long engagements are broken almost on the eve of the wedding?
"Yes," he said hesitatingly, diffidently, as if merely thinking aloud, "one
tries to be fair-- according to his lights--but it is hard. One would like to be fair to
one's self first. But that is too easy, one does not dare--"
"What do you mean?" she asked with repressed violence. "Whatever my
shortcomings, and no doubt they are many in your eyes, I have never gone out of
my way, of my place, to find a man."
Did she mean by this irrelevant remark that he it was who had sought her;
or was that a covert attack on Julia Salas?
"Esperanza--" a desperate plea lay in his stumbling words. "If you--
suppose I--" Yet how could a mere man word such a plea?
"If you mean you want to take back your word, if you are tired of--why
don't you tell me you are tired of me?" she burst out in a storm of weeping that
left him completely shamed and unnerved. The last word had been said.
III
As Alfredo Salazar leaned against the boat rail to watch the evening
settling over the lake, he wondered if Esperanza would attribute any significance
to this trip of his. He was supposed to be in Sta. Cruz whither the case of the
People of the Philippine Islands vs. Belina et al had kept him, and there he would
have been if Brigida Samuy had not been so important to the defense.
80
He had to find that elusive old woman. That the search was leading him to
that particular lake town which was Julia Salas' home should not disturb him
unduly Yet he was disturbed to a degree utterly out of proportion to the
prosaicalness of his errand. That inner tumult was no surprise to him; in the last
eight years he had become used to such occasional storms. He had long
realized that he could not forget Julia Salas. Still, he had tried to be content and
not to remember too much.
The climber of mountains who has known the back-break, the
lonesomeness, and the chill, finds a certain restfulness in level paths made easy
to his feet. He looks up sometimes from the valley where settles the dusk of
evening, but he knows he must not heed the radiant beckoning.
Maybe, in time, he would cease even to look up.
He was not unhappy in his marriage. He felt no rebellion: only the calm of
capitulation to what he recognized as irresistible forces of circumstance and of
character. His life had simply ordered itself, no more struggles, no more stirring
up of emotions that got a man nowhere. From his capacity of complete
detachment he derived a strange solace.
The essential himself, the himself that had its being in the core of his
thought, would, he reflected, always be free and alone. When claims encroached
too insistently, as sometimes they did, he retreated into the inner fastness, and
from that vantage he saw things and people around him as remote and alien, as
incidents that did not matter. At such times did Esperanza feel baffled and
81
helpless; he was gentle, even tender, but immeasurably far away, beyond her
reach.
Lights were springing into life on the shore. That was the town, a little up-tilted
town nestling in the dark greenness of the groves. A snubcrested belfry stood
beside the ancient church.
On the outskirts the evening smudges glowed red through the sinuous
mists of smoke that rose and lost themselves in the purple shadows of the hills.
There was a young moon which grew slowly luminous as the coral tints in the sky
yielded to the darker blues of evening. The vessel approached the landing
quietly, trailing a wake of long golden ripples on the dark water. Peculiar hill
inflections came to his ears from the crowd assembled to meet the boat-- slow,
singing cadences, characteristic of the Laguna lake-shore speech.
From where he stood he could not distinguish faces, so he had no way of
knowing whether the presidente was there to meet him or not. Just then a voice
shouted.
"Is the abogado there? Abogado!"
"What abogado?" someone irately asked.
That must be the presidente, he thought, and went down to the landing.
It was a policeman, a tall pock-marked individual. The presidente had left with
Brigida Samuy--
Tandang "Binday"--that noon for Santa Cruz. Señor Salazar's second
letter had arrived late, but the wife had read it and said, "Go and meet the
82
abogado and invite him to our house." Alfredo Salazar courteously declined the
invitation. He would sleep on board since the boat would leave at four the next
morning anyway. So the presidente had received his first letter?
Alfredo did not know because that official had not sent an answer. "Yes,"
the policeman replied, "but he could not write because we heard that Tandang
Binday was in San Antonio so we went there to find her."
San Antonio was up in the hills! Good man, the presidente! He, Alfredo,
must do something for him. It was not every day that one met with such
willingness to help.
Eight o'clock, lugubriously tolled from the bell tower, found the boat settled
into a somnolent
quiet. A cot had been brought out and spread for him, but it was too bare to be
inviting at that hour. It was too early to sleep: he would walk around the town. His
heart beat faster as he picked his way to shore over the rafts made fast to sundry
piles driven into the water. How peaceful the town was! Here and there a little
tienda was still open, its dim light issuing forlornly through the single window
which served as counter. An occasional couple sauntered by, the women's
chinelas making scraping sounds. From a distance came the shrill voices of
children playing games on the street--tubigan perhaps, or "hawk-and-chicken."
The thought of
Julia Salas in that quiet place filled him with a pitying sadness.
83
How would life seem now if he had married Julia Salas? Had he meant
anything to her? That unforgettable red-and-gold afternoon in early April haunted
him with a sense of incompleteness as restless as other unlaid ghosts. She had
not married--why? Faithfulness, he reflected, was not a conscious effort at
regretful memory. It was something unvolitional, maybe a recurrent awareness of
irreplaceability. Irrelevant trifles--a cool wind on his forehead, far-away sounds as
of voices in a dream--at times moved him to an oddly irresistible impulse to listen
as to an insistent, unfinished prayer.
A few inquiries led him to a certain little tree-ceilinged street where the
young moon woveindistinct filigrees of fight and shadow. In the gardens the
cotton tree threw its angular shadow athwart the low stone wall; and in the cool,
stilly midnight the cock's first call rose in tall, soaring jets of sound. Calle Luz or
other, he had known that he would find her house because she would surely be
sitting at the window. Where else, before bedtime on a moonlit night? The house
was low and
the light in the sala behind her threw her head into unmistakable relief. He
sensed rather than saw her start of vivid surprise.
"Good evening," he said, raising his hat.
"Good evening. Oh! Are you in town?"
"On some little business,"
"Won't you come up?"

84
He considered. His vague plans had not included this. But Julia Salas had
left the window, calling to her mother as she did so. After a while, someone came
downstairs with a lighted candle to open the door. At last--he was shaking her
hand.
She had not changed much--a little less slender, not so eagerly alive, yet
something had gone. He missed it, sitting opposite her, looking thoughtfully into
her fine dark eyes. She asked him about the home town, about this and that, in a
sober, somewhat meditative tone. He conversed with increasing ease, though
with a growing wonder that he should be there at all. He could not take his eyes
from her face. What had she lost? Or was the loss his? He felt an impersonal
curiosity
creeping into his gaze. The girl must have noticed, for her cheek darkened in a
blush.
Gently--was it experimentally?--he pressed her hand at parting; but his
own felt undisturbed and emotionless. Did she still care? The answer to the
question hardly interested him. The young moon had set, and from the uninviting
cot he could see one half of a star-studded sky.
So that was all over.
Why had he obstinately clung to that dream?
So all these years--since when?--he had been seeing the light of dead
stars, long extinguished, yet seemingly still in their appointed places in the
heavens.
85
An immense sadness as of loss invaded his spirit, a vast homesickness
for some immutable refuge of the heart far away where faded gardens bloom
again, and where live on in unchanging freshness, the dear, dead loves of
vanished youth.
86
LITERARY ANALYSIS
Dead Stars
Paz Marquez Benitez
The short story "Dead Stars" is about Alfredo Salazar, an older bachelor
who was engaged to Esperanza and set to get married. As he became drawn to
Julia Salas, his love and passion for his fiancée began to diminish. Alfredo had
an arranged marriage with Esperanza and began his own family since he was
aware that his family would disapprove of his desire to have another woman.
Alfredo visited Julia's home on a work trip eight years later. To his astonishment,
he realized during his visit with Julia that he no longer felt drawn to her. He
compared his love for her to the love of dead stars and recalled going through a
lot to get a girl he thought he loved.
In Addition, The short story "Dead Stars" by Paz Marquez Benitez
discusses forbidden love, elicit love is simply clear and that until a person
recognizes his flaws, it will plague him frequently.
The story shows that Alfredo is intent on marrying Esperanza and that
others want him to marry her, hence the hidden theme is duty.
In this story, women are shown as being weak and undervaluing other
people. The narrative disproved the notion that men are more sensible or
levelheaded than women, which is how men are typically portrayed in culture.
The protagonist or hero, Alfredo, has second thoughts about his decisions
in life,.Esperanza lacks what Alfredo believes Julia Salas possesses, and I agree
with him.
87
Footnote to Youth
Jose Garcia Villa
The sun was salmon and hazy in the

west. Dodong thought to himself he would
tell his father about Teang when he got
home, after he had unhitched the carabao
from the plow, and led it to its shed and
fed it. He was hesitant about saying it, he
wanted his father to know what he had to
say was of serious importance as it would
mark a climacteric in his life. Dodong
finally decided to tell it, but a thought came to him that his father might refuse to
consider it. His father was a silent hardworking farmer, who chewed areca nut,
which he had learned to do from his mother, Dodong’s grandmother.
He wished as he looked at her that he had a sister who could help his mother in
the housework.
I will tell him. I will tell it to him.
The ground was broken up into many fresh wounds and fragrant with a
sweetish earthy smell. Many slender soft worm emerged from the further rows
and then burrowed again deeper into the soil. A short colorless worm marched
blindly to Dodong’s foot and crawled clammilu over it. Dodong got tickled and
jerked his foot, flinging the worm into the air. Dodong did not bother to look where
88
into the air, but thought of his age, seventeen, and he said to himself he was not
young anymore.
Dodong unhitched the carabao leisurely and fave it a healthy tap on the
hip. The beast turned its head to look at him with dumb faithful eyes. Dodong
gave it a slight push and the animal walked alongside him to its shed. He placed
bundles of grass before it and the carabao began to eat. Dodong looked at it
without interest.
Dodong started homeward thinking how he would break his news to his
father. He wanted to marry, Dodong did. He was seventeen, he had pimples on
his face, then down on his upper lip was dark-these meant he was no longer a
boy. He was growing into a man – he was a man. Dodong felt insolent and big at
the thought of it, although he was by nature low in stature.
Thinking himself man – grown, Dodong felt he could do anything.
He walked faster, prodded by the thought of his virility. A small angled
stone bled his foot, but he dismissed it cursorily. He lifted his leg and looked at
the hurt toe and then went on walking. In the cool sundown, he thought wild
young dreams of himself and Teang, his girl. She had a small brown face and
small black eyes and straight glossy hair. How desirable she was to him. She
made him want to touch her, to hold her. She made him dream even during the
day.
89
Dodong tensed with desire and looked at the muscle of his arms. Dirty. This
fieldwork was healthy invigorating, but it begrimed you, smudged you terribly. He
turned back the way he had come, then marched obliquely to a creek.
Must you marry, Dodong?"
Dodong resented his father’s question; his father himself had married early.
Dodong stripped himself and laid his clothes, a gray under shirt and
red kundiman shorts, on the grass. Then he went into the water, wet his body
over and rubbed at it vigorously. He was not long in bathing, then he marched
homeward again. The bath made him feel cool.
It was dusk when he reached home. The petroleum lamp on the ceiling was
already lighted and the low unvarnished square table was set for supper. He and
his parents sat down on the floor around the table to eat. They had fried
freshwater fish, and rice, but did not partake of the fruit. The bananas were
overripe and when one held the,, they felt more fluid than solid. Dodong broke off
a piece of caked sugar, dipped it in his glass of water and ate it. He got another
piece and wanted some more, but he thought of leaving the remainder for his
parent.
Dodong’s mother removed the dishes when they were through, and went
with slow careful steps and Dodong wanted to help her carry the dishes out. But
he was tired and now, feld lazy. He wished as he looked at her that he had a
sister who could help his mother in the housework. He pitied her, doing all the
housework alone.
90
His father remained in the room, sucking a diseased tooth. It was paining
him, again. Dodong knew, Dodong had told him often and again to let the town
dentist pull it out, but he was afraid, his father was. He did not tell that to Dodong,
but Dodong guessed it. Afterward, Dodong himself thought that if he had a
decayed tooth, he would be afraid to go to the dentist; he would not be any
bolder than his father.
Dodong said while his mother was out that he was going to marry
Teang. There it was out, what we had to say, and over which he head said it
without any effort at all and without self-consciousness. Dodong felt relived and
looked at his father expectantly. A decresent moon outside shed its feebled light
into the window, graying the still black temples of his father. His father look old
now.
"I am going to marry Teang," Dodong said.
His father looked at him silently and stopped sucking the broken
tooth, The silenece became intense and cruel, and Dodong was uncomfortable
and then became very angry because his father kept looking at him without
uttering anything.
"I will marry Teang," Dodong repeated. "I will marry Teang."
His father kept gazing at him in flexible silence and Dodong fidgeted on
his seat.
I asked her last night to marry me and she said… "Yes. I want your
permission… I… want… it…" There was an impatient clamor in his voice, an

91
exacting protest at his coldness, this indifference. Dodong looked at his father
sourly. He cracked his knuckles one by one, and the little sound it made broke
dully the night stillness.
"Must you marry, Dodong?"
Dodong resented his father’s question; his father himself had married
early. Dodong made a quick impassioned essay in his mind about selfishness,
but later, he got confused.
"You are very young, Dodong."
"I’m seventeen."
"That’s very young to get married at."
"I… I want to marry… Teang’s a good girl…
"Tell your mother," his father said.
"You tell her, Tatay."
"Dodong, you tell your Inay."
"You tell her."
"All right, Dodong."
"All right, Dodong."
"You will let me marry Teang?"
"Son, if that is your wish… of course…" There was a strange helpless light
in his father’s eyes. Dodong did not read it. Too absorbed was he in himself.
92
Dodong was immensely glad he has asserted himself. He lost his resentment for
his father, for a while, he even felt sorry for him about the pain I his tooth. Then
he confined his mind dreaming of Teang and himself. Sweet young dreams…
Dodong stood in the sweltering noon heat, sweating profusely so that
his camiseta was damp. He was still like a tree and his thoughts were
confused. His mother had told him not to leave the house, but he had left. He
wanted to get out of it without clear reason at all. He was afraid, he felt afraid of
the house. It had seemingly caged him, to compress his thoughts with severe
tyranny. He was also afraid of Teang who was giving birth in the house; she face
screams that chilled his blood. He did not want her to scream like that. He began
to wonder madly if the process of childbirth was really painful. Some women,
when they gave birth, did not cry.
In a few moments he would be a father. "Father, father," he whispered the
word with awe, with strangeness. He was young, he realized now contradicting
himself of nine months ago. He was very young… He felt queer, troubled,
uncomfortable.
Dodong felt tired of standing. He sat down on a saw-horse with his feet
close together. He looked at his calloused toes. Then he thought, supposed he
had ten children…
The journey of thought came to a halt when he heard his mother’s voice
from the house.

93
Some how, he was ashamed to his mother of his youthful paternity. It
made him feel guilty, as if he had taken something not properly his.
"Come up, Dodong. It is over."
Suddenly, he felt terribly embarrassed as he looked at her. Somehow, he
was ashamed to his mother of his youthful paternity. It made him feel guilty, as if
he has taken something not properly his. He dropped his eyes and pretended to
dust off his kundiman shorts.
"Dodong," his mother called again. "Dodong."
He turned to look again and this time, he saw his father beside his mother.
"It is a boy." His father said. He beckoned Dodong to come up.
Dodong felt more embarrassed and did not move. His parent’s eyes seemed to
pierce through him so he felt limp. He wanted to hide or even run away from
them.
"Dodong, you come up. You come up," his mother said.
Dodong did not want to come up. He’d rather stayed in the sun.
"Dodong… Dodong."
I’ll… come up.
Dodong traced the tremulous steps on the dry parched yard. He ascended
the bamboo steps slowly. His heart pounded mercilessly in him. Within, he
avoided his parent’s eyes. He walked ahead of them so that they should not see
his face. He felt guilty and untru. He felt like crying. His eyes smarted and his
94
chest wanted to burst. He wanted to turn back, to go back to the yard. He wanted
somebody to punish him.
"Son," his father said.
And his mother: "Dodong.."
How kind their voices were. They flowed into him, making him strong.
"Teang?" Dodong said.
"She’s sleeping. But you go in…"
His father led him into the small sawali room. Dodong saw Teang, his
wife, asleep on the paper with her soft black hair around her face. He did not
want her to look that pale.
Dodong wanted to touch her, to push away that stray wisp of hair that
touched her lips. But again that feeling of embarrassment came over him, and
before his parent, he did not want to be demonstrative.
The hilot was wrapping the child Dodong heard him cry. The thin voice
touched his heart. He could not control the swelling of happiness in him.
"You give him to me. You give him to me," Dodong said.
Blas was not Dodong’s only child. Many more children came. For six
successive years, a new child came along. Dodong did not want any more
children. But they came. It seemed that the coming of children could not
helped. Dodong got angry with himself sometimes.
Teang did not complain, but the bearing of children tolled on her. She was
shapeless and thin even if she was young. There was interminable work that kept
95
her tied up. Cooking, laundering. The house. The children. She cried sometimes,
wishing she had no married. She did not tell Dodong this, not wishing him to
dislike her. Yet, she wished she had not married. Not even Dodong whom she
loved. There had neen another suitor, Lucio older than Dodong by nine years
and that wasw why she had chosen Dodong. Young Dodong who was only
seventeen. Lucio had married another. Lucio, she wondered, would she have
born him children? Maybe not, either. That was a better lot. But she loved
Dodong… in the moonlight, tired and querulous. He wanted to ask questions and
somebody to answer him. He wanted to be wise about many things.
Life did not fulfill all of Youth’s dreams.
Why must be so? Why one was forsaken… after love?
One of them was why life did not fulfill all of the youth’ dreams. Why it
must be so. Why one was forsaken… after love.
Dodong could not find the answer. Maybe the question was not to be
answered. It must be so to make youth. Youth must be dreamfully
sweet. Dreamfully sweet.
Dodong returned to the house, humiliated by himself. He had wanted to
know little wisdom but was denied it.
When Blas was eighteen, he came home one night, very flustered and
happy. Dodong heard Blas’ steps for he could not sleep well at night. He watched
Blass undress in the dark and lie down softly. Blas was restless on his mat and
could not sleep. Dodong called his name and asked why he did not sleep.
96
You better go to sleep. It is late," Dodong said.
Life did not fulfill all of youth’s dreams. Why it must be so? Why one was
forsaken after love?
"Itay.." Blas called softly.
Dodong stirred and asked him what it was.
"I’m going to marry Tona. She accepted me tonight.
"Itay, you think its over."
Dodong lay silent.
I loved Tona and… I want her."
Dodong rose from his mat and told Blas to follow him. They descended to
the yard where everything was still and quiet.
The moonlight was cold and white.
"You want to marry Tona, Dodong said, although he did not want Blas to
marry yet. Blas was very young. The life that would follow marriage would be
hard…
"Yes."
"Must you marry?"
Blas’ voice was steeled with resentment. "I will mary Tona."
"You have objection, Itay?" Blas asked acridly.
"Son… non…" But for Dodong, he do anything. Youth must triumph…
now. Afterward… It will be life.
As long ago, Youth and Love did triumph for Dodong… and then life.
97
Dodong looked wistfully at his young son in the moonlight. He felt
extremely sad and sorry for him.

98
LITERARY ANALYSIS
Footnote to Youth
Jose Garcia Villa
The short story "Footnote to Youth" was first published in The Frontier in
January 1932 and was written by Filipino novelist José Garca Villa. Dodong, a
Filipino farmer's son who is only seventeen years old, is the main character of the
story. At some point, Dodong comes to regret his choice to wed when he did, but
he is unable to prevent his eldest son from committing the same error. The play
"Footnote to Youth" examines issues of masculinity and achieving independence.
Villa initially struggled to find a publisher for Footnote to Youth: Tales of
the Philippines and Others, despite the fact that the story is today regarded as
one of the author's best pieces.
In 1931, Villa completed the manuscript for his collection of short stories,
Footnote to Youth: Tales of the Philippines and Others, and sent it to several
publishers, including Alfred Knopf, Macmillan, and Jonathan Cape. Each
publisher responded with a sympathetic letter of rejection and an explanation of
the unfavorable market environment.
After the 1933 release of Footnote to Youth: Tales of the Philippines and
Others, Villa's concentration turned from prose to poetry.
"Footnote to Youth" is a simple and sorrowful portrayal of rural life, in
contrast to the more abstract pieces Villa wrote in the latter stages of his literary
career.
99
The importance of framing the narrative in this way may be seen in the
realism of the story's central conflict, as young marriage is a problem that is
frequently linked to deprivation, inadequate education, and a lack of alternative
opportunities.
The fact that Dodong and Teang's young marriage is placed against such
poverty makes the story more genuine, even though these aspects are not stated
clearly in the narrative. It is important to note, however, that Villa does not aim to
make such pointed sociopolitical remarks in "Footnote to Youth"; instead, he
blames youth's impulsiveness for Dodong and Blas's decision to wed young.
Although Dodong's decision to wed young was influenced by his own
ideas about masculinity, the story ultimately argues that the erratic behavior of
youth does not discriminate based on gender.
In the second half of "Footnote to Youth," Teang briefly discusses how
hopeless she feels about how her life has turned out.
Teang, unlike Dodong, does not get married young to pursue
independence; instead, she anticipated a romantic and comfortable marriage, as
seen by her speculations about how her life would have been with another suitor,
Lucio.
Because of this, Teang mentions in the narrative that Dodong has become
"ugly" due to life.
Dodong's statement affirms that there is little to no wisdom passed down
between generations—as even the older generation have a hard time

100
understanding their mistakes—as well as hinting that his firstborn son, Blas, may
eventually marry young as well.
Eventually, when Blas informs Dodong that he is marrying Tona, Dodong
lacks the strength of character and clarity of thought to say as much.
The final words of "Footnote to Youth" are sorrowful and dejected, since
Dodong is aware of Blas' challenging future but is powerless to prevent him from
choosing such a course.
Blas is destined to learn that the rest of his life will only serve as a bitter
footnote to the hopes and promises of his youth, just as Dodong and Teang
before him.
101
I am A Filipino
Carlos P. Romolu
I am a Filipino – inheritor of a
glorious past, hostage to the
uncertain future. As such, I must
prove equal to a two-fold task – the
task of meeting my responsibility to
the past, and the task of performing
my obligation to the future.
I am sprung from a hardy race – child
many generations removed of ancient
Malayan pioneers. Across the centuries, the memory comes rushing back to me:
of brown-skinned men putting out to sea in ships that were as frail as their hearts
were stout. Over the sea I see them come, borne upon the billowing wave and
the whistling wind, carried upon the mighty swell of hope – hope in the free
abundance of the new land that was to be their home and their children’s forever.
This is the land they sought and found. Every inch of shore that their eyes
first set upon, every hill and mountain that beckoned to them with a green and
purple invitation, every mile of rolling plain that their view encompassed, every
river and lake that promised a plentiful living and the fruitfulness of commerce, is
a hollowed spot to me.

102
By the strength of their hearts and hands, by every right of law, human
and divine, this land and all the appurtenances thereof – the black and fertile soil,
the seas and lakes and rivers teeming with fish, the forests with their
inexhaustible wealth in wild and timber, the mountains with their bowels swollen
with minerals – the whole of this rich and happy land has been for centuries
without number, the land of my fathers. This land I received in trust from them,
and in trust will pass it to my children, and so on until the world is no more.
I am a Filipino. In my blood runs the immortal seed of heroes – seed that
flowered down the centuries in deeds of courage and defiance. In my veins yet
pulses the same hot blood that sent Lapulapu to battle against the alien foe, that
drove Diego Silang and Dagohoy into rebellion against the foreign oppressor,
That seed is immortal. It is the self-same seed that flowered in the heart of Jose
Rizal that morning in Bagumbayan when a volley of shots put an end to all that
was mortal of him and made his spirit deathless forever; the same that flowered
in the hearts of Bonifacio in Balintawak, of Gregorio del Pilar at Tirad Pass, of
Antonio Luna at Calumpit, that bloomed in flowers of frustration in the sad heart
of Emilio Aguinaldo at Palanan, and yet burst forth royally again in the proud
heart of Manuel L. Quezon when he stood at last on the threshold of ancient
Malacanang Palace, in the symbolic act of possession and racial vindication.
The seed I bear within me is an immortal seed. It is the mark of my
manhood, the symbol of my dignity as a human being. Like the seeds that were
once buried in the tomb of Tutankhamen many thousands of years ago, it shall
103
grow and flower and bear fruit again. It is the insigne of my race, and my
generation is but a stage in the unending search of my people for freedom and
happiness.
I am a Filipino, child of the marriage of the East and the West. The East, with its
languor and mysticism, its passivity and endurance, was my mother, and my sire
was the West that came thundering across the seas with the Cross and Sword
and the Machine. I am of the East, an eager participant in its struggles for
liberation from the imperialist yoke. But I know also that the East must awake
from its centuried sleep, shake off the lethargy that has bound its limbs, and start
moving where destiny awaits.
For I, too, am of the West, and the vigorous peoples of the West have
destroyed forever the peace and quiet that once were ours. I can no longer live, a
being apart from those whose world now trembles to the roar of bomb and
cannon shot. For no man and no nation is an island, but a part of the main, and
there is no longer any East and West – only individuals and nations making those
momentous choices that are the hinges upon which history revolves.
At the vanguard of progress in this part of the world I stand – a forlorn figure in
the eyes of some, but not one defeated and lost. For through the thick, interlacing
branches of habit and custom above me I have seen the light of the sun, and I
know that it is good. I have seen the light of justice and equality and freedom, my
heart has been lifted by the vision of democracy, and I shall not rest until my land
104
and my people shall have been blessed by these, beyond the power of any man
or nation to subvert or destroy.
I am a Filipino, and this is my inheritance. What pledge shall I give that I
may prove worthy of my inheritance? I shall give the pledge that has come
ringing down the corridors of the centuries, and its hall be compounded of the
joyous cries of my Malayan forebears when they first saw the contours of this
land loom before their eyes, of the battle cries that have resounded in every field
of combat from Mactan to Tirad Pass, of the voices of my people when they sing:
Land of the morning.
Child of the sun returning . . .
Ne’er shall invaders
Trample thy sacred shore.
Out of the lush green of these seven thousand isles, out of the heart-
strings of sixteen million people all vibrating to one song, I shall weave the mighty
fabric of my pledge. Out of the songs of the farmers at sunrise when they go to
labor in the fields; out the sweat of the hard-bitten pioneers in Mal-ig and
Koronadal; out of the silent endurance of stevedores at the piers and the
ominous grumbling of peasants in Pampanga; out of the first cries of babies
newly born and the lullabies that mothers sing; out of crashing of gears and the
whine of turbines in the factories; out of the crunch of ploughs upturning the
earth; out of the limitless patience of teachers in the classrooms and doctors in
105
the clinics; out of the tramp of soldiers marching, I shall make the pattern of my
pledge:
I am a Filipino born of freedom, and I shall not rest until freedom shall have been
added unto my inheritance – for myself and my children’s – forever.
LITERARY ANALYSIS
I Am a Filipino
Carlos P. Romolu
One of Carlos P.'s greatest pieces of literature is "I Am a Filipino. Romulo.
He concentrated on Philippine history, from the arrival of the Malays until the
struggle against the colonizers. Additionally, he became focused on the minute
particulars of an average Filipino's day.
He exclaims with pride how lovely his nation, the Philippines, is with its
seafood and opulent trees. In addition, he claimed that the blood in his veins was
the same as that of the country's heroes, including Lapu-Lapu, Lakundala, Diego
Silang, Dagohoy, Luna, Bonifacio, Rizal, and many others. He said that Filipinos
are the offspring of the union of East and West, a blending of several
civilizations. Additionally, he claimed to have heard individuals singing the
National Anthem as a battle cry that has been heard from Mactan to Pasong
Tirad in every theater of war.

106
Literature Under the Republic
The Woman Who Had Two Navels

Nick Joaquin
A Summary
T he story begins with Connie

Escobar, daughter of a politician and
a famous beauty, visiting Pepe
Monson, a horse doctor, in Hong
Kong for a consultation because she
has TWO NAVELS. She wanted him
to remove her other navel through a
surgical operation because if she will
be going to give birth, where would
the other umbilical cord be
connected? In addition, she does not want to become a freak when she has to
undress for her husband. She said she is 30 years old and has just been
married hours ago. Then, she told Pepe about a story from her childhood. When
she was a child, she thought that everybody has two navels but when she
discovered her doll, Minnie, has only one, she threw it into the pond. Then she
told Pepe that her mother is also in Hong Kong.
Pepe talked to Senora Concha Vidal and discovered from her that Connie
was lying – that she is not 30 years old, only 18; that she was not married a
107
morning just before she came to consult him, but a year ago; that she has only
ONE navel. Senora de Vidal also told Pepe that she forced Connie to marry
Macho Escobar because Connie was upset about the rumor that her father,
Manolo Vidal, spends the public fund to send his children to school. Because
Connie was just forced to marry to a man she really does not love, Senora
Concha told Pepe that Connie was chasing a bandleader named Paco Texeira,
that’s why she is now in Hong Kong.
She and Macho followed Connie in Hong Kong they can bring her back to
the Philippines. Macho’s reason in taking her back is to avoid humiliation for her
politician father by creating a scandal because it is election times in the
Philippines. Pepe told Senora de Vidal that Paco is married to Mary and that he
and Paco are gradeschool friends. After talking to Senora de Vidal, Pepe went to
the Texeira’s.
Pepe learned from his conversation with the Texeiras that Paco had been
to Manila playing with his band. From Manila, Paco had sent letters to Mary
about Senora de Vidal. Senora de Vidal and Paco had a good time together and
they were interested in each other’s countries – Hong Kong and Philippines. One
day, when Paco was waiting for Senora Concha in her house, he found Connie
and from that moment on he started wanting Connie. Connie had watched Paco
perform in the clubs until one night, there were people fighting and someone had
got shot. Because Connie was shocked, Paco comforted her. Until some weeks,
108
Paco drove Connie to his hotel, knowing that Connie also liked him. He was
about to rape Connie, not knowing her background. They only had a savage fight
like wild beasts. After 2 days, Paco went back to Hong Kong. Pepe states that
both Connie and Senora de Vidal have an evil hold on him and he knows that he
will go running to them when they call him. But he does not call it love. Pepe also
realized both his father and Paco have a similar traumatized look after they came
back from the Philippines. Pepe’s father could not answer most of Paco’s
questions since he came back to Hong Kong from Manila. All he said while he is
in his room was “Dust and crabs.. dust and crabs.. dust and crabs..”.
Meanwhile, in the art shop of Rita Lopez and Helen Silva, Rita received
a call from Pepe. Rita is Pepe’s wife and Helen is a friend. Pepe called Rita to
invite her for a dinner with Paco and Mary to a club in Tovarich. In Tovarich, they
met Pete Alfonso, a bandleader who is seeking a pianist and a singer. Paco
applied and got hired. The next important thing that happened was that Pepe
found Connie Escobar naked inside the club and talked to her for he knows
Connie needs him, with a promise to Rita that he would just do it with a couple of
minutes. After a short talk with Connie, Pepe went back to Rita and told her and
the rest of the group to go home without him so he can help Connie in her
problem, which made Rita get angry.

109
Connie had driven her car so fast that made Pepe to cry “stop!” Then
Connie told Pepe why she was driving so fast because she feels like she’s
running away. She related it to a story where she ran away from school, not
because of her father whipping her – a lie told by Concha to Pepe, but because
she was ashamed that her father was an abortionist. Then Pepe advised Connie
to ask advise to her brother, Tony, at the convent, but Connie instead wanted to
go in her hotel. However, when Connie went to her room in the hotel, she rushed
back to Pepe telling him that Macho, her husband, is inside and she does not
want to see him. She told Pepe that Macho has other girls and one of them is her
mother, Concha de Vidal. Paco learned from her that she found out the love
letters of Macho and her mother. Because of this, Pepe helped Connie to go
away from her hotel by letting her sleep in Rita’s place, which made Rita even
angrier. Connie asked Pepe to tell Macho that she was sick and does not want to
see him, which Pepe agreed to do. Macho, however, stopped Pepe when he was
leaving his room and told Pepe the story of their marriage and that he knew
Connie knew of his past affair with her mother because of the letters, but he
insisted it was over and done with. Macho also mentioned that his father died
and he has to take care of their hacienda. When Pepe went home, just before
daylight when Rita awoke, they did not find Connie in the sofa. She was gone.
It was a Chinese New Year in Hong Kong and Paco Monson and his
band were performing in Tovarich. In the convent of St. Andrew, Connie, as per
110
Pepe’s advice, sought help from Father Tony Monson about the explanation of
her two navels. She says she is grateful and horrified at the same time of her
state. Father Tony did not believe her and advised her to see an older priest
instead so she would realize that she’s only delusional. However, she went away
without consulting Father Prior. Meanwhile, Senora de Vidal, visited St. Rita’s
Shop and fortunately saw Father Tony there. She told him that all Connie was
saying are lies, but Father Tony, when asked if he finds the problem silly, replied
that it was serious. Finally, she told him about the reason why she married
Macho off to Connie. It was because she hated Connie for preventing her from
running off with Macho for she has a responsibility to Connie who was still a
child. Moreover, she told Father Tony that Connie really thinks that all the time
Connie still loved her, she was already planning to destroy her daughter, but this
was urgently stopped by Father Monson.
Later that night, Concha was remembering the time when she was fifteen,
when she first met her first husband, Esteban Borromeo – a handsome boy, a
good painter, an activist. She married him but was widowed by his death. And
then she met the abortionist, Dr. Manolo Vidal, after seeking help because she
got pregnant by an effete writer and does not want to embarrass her father. After
the abortion, she turned to religion with equal passion she displayed with earlier
love affairs. But before she committed herself to God, Manolo Vidal came back
into her life to court her, and later married her. On the other hand, The Monson
111
brothers found Connie in their apartment and relayed the information that Macho
wants to start from scratch with Connie wherever she might want to go as long as
they are together. She insists that the knowledge of her two navels will scare him
away.
The Monson brothers think that she is using the delusion of having two
navels in order to feel unique and disengage from her problematic life including
an excuse for not confronting Macho about being her mother's former lover. She
wants to be safe so she retreats from a fully lived life. The Monson brothers want
her to reengage in her life in order to live a full, free, responsible life of her own
choosing. Then, she wants the Monson brothers to confirm or refute her two
navel delusion once and for all by stripping and letting them see for themselves
whether or not she has two navels. Father Tony left Pepe to refute her two navel
delusion which Pepe hesitantly complied to.
When Pepe discovered that Connie really had only one navel, her
delusional world broke apart. Connie proceeded to do what he wanted to do –
TO RUN AWAY – first toward the monastery. On her way, she remembered her
bitter past and saw hallucinations of her family’s destruction.
The flashbacks started when Connie was 5 years old. She went to a
carnival and wanted her doll, Minnie, to see Biliken, the carnival god. Because
the young Connie is such a spoiled brat, she wanted to have Biliken at home
112
even going to the extent that she threw Minnie away and have to lie that it was
stolen from her just to convince her mother to get Biliken for her. When she was
11, Connie was able to possess Biliken since Mr. Vidal considers Biliken to
represent happy memories during the beginning of WWII before the war
destroyed this joyous past. This was also the time when her mother had become
so cold to her after returning home from Hong Kong. Her mother had left Manila
without an explanation, the same with Macho Escobar, her mother’s friend. With
her mother’s coldness, Connie converted her attention to Biliken idol which was
kept in the orchard so that she can have a friend to be together with. When she
became 14 years old, Connie was evacuated because the war was coming to
Manila. At 15 years old, after the war, Connie and her family returned to their
ruined house. She found Biliken in the orchard and was horrified seeing Biliken
having two black holes at her stomach, making it look like two navels. Seeing the
horrifying Biliken, Connie realized that her childhood was nothing as she thought
it was – that it never was happy. She sees her past as horrible when she
associated it with the love affair of Macho and her mother in the past that made
her to be like that horrible monster. After her honeymoon with Macho, Connie
discovered the love letters, which made her to seek Biliken, though she did not
know how she had got there when she came.
In the final chapter, Kikay Valero, since she knows all the Filipinos in town,
had the obligation to report to Concha about Connie’s death and to comfort Tony
for his father’s sudden demise. Macho, showing his love for Connie, looked for
113
her body during a storm. Concha, on the other hand, hides in the shadows of her
room but did not mourn for her daughter for she does not consider herself guilty
of her death. The Monson brothers think the real reason that Concha refuses to
feel guilt is because she wants to continue to live with a semblance of normality
by continuing to dress up as though nothing has happened. Meanwhile, Tony felt
guilty over Connie’s death because he had pushed her to seek the truth. He
quitted his priesthood so he could not destroy other Connie’s. Rita, on the
contrary, grew mad at Father Tony’s decision of quitting as a priest just because
of Connie’s death. She even grew angrier when she found out that Connie is not
dead and has eloped with Paco because she knows Mary will be suffering too if
she knows about it. This revelation was written by Connie in her letter to Pepe
before she went off with Paco.
In the final moments before her car flew off the cliff, Connie was able to
escape and this escape made her desire of a life well-lived. By throwing her
mother's handbag, she also threw the influence her mother has over her. Instead
of going to the monastery, as advised by Father Tony himself, Connie went to
celebratethe living in the city, and when she did not know where she would go,
Connie ended up in the Monson’s apartment. There, she met Dr. Monson and
asked forgiveness for betraying the past. Dr. Monson also asked forgiveness for
not living in the present. After this reconciliation of the past, Connie felt saved
and free, while Dr. Monson died in this encounter with a smile on his face
because he has already reconciled with the present. After her visit with Dr.
114
Monson, Connie bumped into Paco and fell to his embrace. He recognized that
Connie was the haunted girl he feared and had fought with but now he sees
Connie’s face as Mary’s and remembers Mary’s face as the one haunted.
They decided to go to Macao and then leave their partners behind. While
Rita objected to this, Father Tony believes Connie did the right thing. Another
soul must sacrifice for one soul to be free. She chose Paco to leave her delusion
caused by Macho and Concha’s love affair. She needs to do the wrong thing to
save herself. She can find redemption through sinning, for "without sin there can
be no repentance---and, therefore, no upheaval for transfiguration or growth of
the spirit." Pepe told Tony that they helped Connie have a courage to live though
they do not yet know the outcome of her new found freedom will be the key to
her salvation or damnation.
At the end, Macho shot Concha then himself and they both died.
115
LITERARY ANALYSIS
The Woman Who Had Two Navels

Nick Joaquin
It appears that Nick Joaquin y Márquez, a well-known Filipino author,
playwright, and journalist, delivers the story without consistency in narrative
styles and conveys the topics in a non-linear manner in The Woman Who Had
Two Navels (1961).
The plot, as it is presented in the book, centres around the upper middle
class and demonstrates how each character fights to keep his or her self-identity
in a foreign setting like Hong Kong, reflecting a postcolonial expatriate mindset.
On the other hand, The Woman Who Had Two Navels keeps the combinations of
hate, love, and pain that reflect life's truths, making the story more challenging
and compelling to readers.
A book's title, "two navels," most likely refers to the Philippines and Hong
Kong.
That is to say, even though the majority of the action takes place in Hong
Kong, the culture and traditions of the Philippines are discussed at length in the
book.
As the plot develops, it has been discovered that the Filipino characters
Connie, Concha, Paco, and Dr. consistently and visibly display the attempt to
create roots and need to bond, particularly the cultural identity.
Monson, who longs for the Philippines, his nation of origin.
Monson always tells Pepe about the Philippines, his cherished native land.
116
The answer to the question, "What changed him to return to Hong Kong a
different person," is probably because he learned the unfavorable news that his
country's flag finally waved in solitary sovereignty. This individual keeps
complains about the dust and crabs in his room.
Even though he was previously a revolutionist and used to fight alongside
other revolutionaries, the fact that he gets frail and transformed after witnessing
the destruction of the Philippines suggests that he was unable to aid his beloved
nation.
Monson is portrayed as a man who upholds masculinity by defending his
country.
Therefore, it is likely that his inability to defend the nation is a reflection of
the collapse of his manhood, which has made him fragile and changed.
Monson feels emasculated by his inability to defend his country, as Dr.
"Oh, not the rain," Monson says to his son Pepe, "the dust, the dust, the
dust [...] And crabs."
In this case, dust might be seen figuratively as the harm or the
troublesome aftereffects of colonialism, whereas crabs can be interpreted
metaphorically as the Filipinos.
The native Filipinos had led basic lives reliant on the land before the
Spanish invaders first arrived in the Philippines.

117
Scent of Apples
Bienvenido Santos
I arrived in Kalamazoo. It was
October and the war was still on. Gold
and silver stars hung on pennants
above silent windows of white and
brick-red cottages. In a backyard, an
old man burned leaves and twigs while
a gray-haired woman sat on the porch,
her red hands quiet on her lap,
watching the smoke rising above the
elms, both of them thinking the same
thought perhaps, about a tall, grinning boy with his blue eyes and flying hair, who
went out to war: where could he be now this month when leaves were turning
into gold and the fragrance of gathered apples was in the wind? It was a cold
night when I left my room at the hotel for a usual speaking engagement. I walked
but a little way.
A heavy wind coming up from Lake Michigan was icy on the face. If felt
like winter straying early in the northern woodlands. Under the lampposts the
leaves shone like bronze. And they rolled on the pavements like the ghost feet of
a thousand autumns long dead, long before the boys left for faraway lands
118
without great icy winds and promise of winter early in the air, lands without apple
trees, the singing and the gold! It was the same night I met Celestino Fabia, "just
a Filipino farmer" as he called himself, who had a farm about thirty miles east of
Kalamazoo. "You came all that way on a night like this just to hear me talk?" "I've
seen no Filipino for so many years now," he answered quickly.
"So when I saw your name in the papers where it says you come from the
Islands and that you're going to talk, I come right away." Earlier that night, I had
addressed a college crowd, mostly women. It appeared they wanted me to talk
about my country; they wanted me to tell them things about it because my
country had become a lost country. Everywhere in the land, the enemy stalked.
Over it, a great silence hung, and their boys were there, unheard from, or they
were on their way to some little known island on the Pacific, young boys all,
hardly men, thinking of harvest moons and the smell of forest fire. It was not hard
talking about our own people. I knew them well and I loved them. And they
seemed so far away during those terrible years that I must have spoken of them
with a little fervor, a little nostalgia. In the open forum that followed, the audience
wanted to know whether there was much difference between our women and the
American women. I tried to answer the question as best I could, saying, among
other things, that I did not know that much about American women, except that
they looked friendly, but differences or similarities in inner qualities such as
naturally belonged to the heart or to the mind, I could only speak about with
vagueness.
119
While I was trying to explain away the fact that it was not easy to make
comparisons, a man rose from the rear of the hall, wanting to say something. In
the distance, he looked slight and old and very brown. Even before he spoke, I
knew that he was, like me, a Filipino. "I'm a Filipino," he began, loud and clear, in
a voice that seemed used to wide open spaces, "I'm just a Filipino farmer out in
the country." He waved his hand toward the door. "I left the Philippines more than
twenty years ago and have never been back. Never will perhaps. I want to find
out, sir, are our Filipino women the same like they were twenty years ago?" As
he sat down, the hall filled with voices, hushed and intrigued. I weighed my
answer carefully. I did not want to tell a lie yet I did not want to say anything that
would seem platitudinous, insincere. But more important than these
considerations, it seemed to me that moment as I looked towards my
countryman, I must give him an answer that would not make him so unhappy.
Surely, all these years, he must have held on to certain ideals, certain
beliefs, even illusions peculiar to the exile. "First," I said as the voices gradually
died down and every eye seemed upon me, "First, tell me what our women were
like twenty years ago." The man stood to answer. "Yes," he said, "you're too
young . . . Twenty years ago our women were nice; they were modest; they wore
their hair long; they dressed proper and went for no monkey business. They were
natural, they went to church regular, and they were faithful." He had spoken
slowly, and now in what seemed like an afterthought, added, "It's the men who
ain't." Now I knew what I was going to say.

120
"Well," I began, "it will interest you to know that our women have changed
—but definitely! The change, however, has been on the outside only. Inside,
here," pointing to the heart, "they are the same as they were twenty years ago.
God-fearing, faithful, modest, and nice." The man was visibly moved. "I'm very
happy, sir," he said, in the manner of one who, having stakes on the land, had
found no cause to regret one's sentimental investment. After this, everything that
was said and done in that hall that night seemed like an anti-climax, and later, as
we walked outside, he gave me his name and told me of his farm thirty miles east
of the city. We had stopped at the main entrance to the hotel lobby. We had not
talked very much on the way. As a matter of fact, we were never alone. Kindly
American friends talked to us, asked us questions, said goodnight. So now, I
asked him whether he cared to step into the lobby with me and talk. "No, thank
you," he said, "you are tired. And I don't want to stay out too late." "Yes, you live
very far." "I got a car," he said, "besides..." Now he smiled, he truly smiled. All
night, I had been watching his face and I wondered when he was going to smile.
"Will you do me a favor, please," he continued smiling almost sweetly.
"I want you to have dinner with my family out in the country. I'd call for you
tomorrow afternoon, then drive you back. Will that be alright?" "Of course," I said.
"I'd love to meet your family." I was leaving Kalamazoo for Muncie, Indiana, in
two days. There was plenty of time. "You will make my wife very happy," he said.
"You flatter me." "Honest. She'll be very happy. Ruth is a country girl and hasn't
met many Filipinos. I mean Filipinos younger than I, cleaner looking. We're just
121
poor farmer folk, you know, and we don't get to town very often. Roger, that's my
boy, he goes to school in town.
A bus takes him early in the morning and he's back in the afternoon. He's
a nice boy." "I bet he is," I agreed. "I've seen the children of some of the boys by
their American wives and the boys are tall, taller than their father, and very good
looking." "Roger, he'd be tall. You'll like him." Then he said goodbye and I waved
to him as he disappeared in the darkness. The next day, he came at about three
in the afternoon. There was a mild, ineffectual sun shining, and it was not too
cold. He was wearing an old brown tweed jacket and worsted trousers to match.
His shoes were polished, and although the green of his tie seemed faded, a
colored shirt hardly accentuated it. He looked younger than he appeared the
night before, now that he was clean shaven and seemed ready to go to a party.
He was grinning as we met. "Oh, Ruth can't believe it," he kept repeating as he
led me to his car—a nondescript thing in faded black that had known better days
and many hands. "I say to her, I'm bringing you a first class Filipino, and she
says, aw, go away, quit kidding, there's no such thing as first class Filipino. But
Roger, that's my boy, he believed me immediately. What's he like, daddy, he
asks. Oh, you will see, I says, he's first class. Like you daddy? No, no, I laugh at
him, your daddy ain't first class. Aw, but you are, daddy, he says.
So you can see what a nice boy he is, so innocent. Then Ruth starts
griping about the house, but the house is a mess, she says. True it's a mess, it's
always a mess, but you don't mind, do you? We're poor folks, you know. The trip
122
seemed interminable. We passed through narrow lanes and disappeared into
thickets, and came out on barren land overgrown with weeds in places. All
around were dead leaves and dry earth. In the distance were apple trees. "Aren't
those apple trees?" I asked wanting to be sure. "Yes, those are apple trees," he
replied. "Do you like apples? I got lots of 'em. I got an apple orchard, I'll show
you.
" All the beauty of the afternoon seemed in the distance, on the hills, in the
dull soft sky. "Those trees are beautiful on the hills," I said. "Autumn's a lovely
season. The trees are getting ready to die, and they show their colors, proud-
like."
"No such thing in our own country," I said. That remark seemed unkind, I
realized later. It touched him off on a long deserted tangent, but ever there
perhaps. How many times did lonely mind take unpleasant detours away from
the familiar winding lanes towards home for fear of this, the remembered hurt,
the long lost youth, the grim shadows of the years; how many times indeed, only
the exile knows. It was a rugged road we were traveling and the car made so
much noise that I could not hear everything he said, but I understood him. He
was telling his story for the first time in many years. He was remembering his
own youth. He was thinking of home. In these odd moments, there seemed no
cause for fear, no cause at all, no pain. That would come later. In the night
perhaps. Or lonely on the farm under the apple trees.

123
In this old Visayan town, the streets are narrow and dirty and strewn with
coral shells. You have been there? You could not have missed our house; it was
the biggest in town, one of the oldest, ours was a big family. The house stood
right on the edge of the street. A door opened heavily and you enter a dark hall
leading to the stairs. There is the smell of chickens roosting on the low-topped
walls; there is the familiar sound they make and you grope your way up a
massive staircase, the bannisters smooth upon the trembling hand. Such nights,
they are no better than the days, windows are closed against the sun; they close
heavily. Mother sits in her corner looking very white and sick. This was her world,
her domain. In all these years, I cannot remember the sound of her voice. Father
was different. He moved about. He shouted. He ranted.
He lived in the past and talked of honor as though it were the only thing. I
was born in that house. I grew up there into a pampered brat. I was mean. One
day, I broke their hearts. I saw mother cry wordlessly as father heaped his curses
upon me and drove me out of the house, the gate closing heavily after me. And
my brothers and sisters took up my father's hate for me and multiplied it
numberless times in their own broken hearts. I was no good. But sometimes, you
know, I miss that house, the roosting chickens on the low-topped walls. I miss my
brothers and sisters, Mother sitting in her chair, looking like a pale ghost in a
corner of the room. I would remember the great live posts, massive tree trunks
from the forests.

124
Leafy plants grew on the sides, buds pointing downwards, wilted and died
before they could become flowers. As they fell on the floor, father bent to pick
them and throw them out into the coral streets. His hands were strong. I have
kissed these hands . . . many times, many times. Finally we rounded a deep
curve and suddenly came upon a shanty, all but ready to crumble in a heap on
the ground, its plastered walls were rotting away, the floor was hardly a foot from
the ground. I thought of the cottages of the poor colored folk in the south, the
hovels of the poor everywhere in the land. This one stood all by itself as though
by common consent all the folk that used to live here had decided to say away,
despising it, ashamed of it. Even the lovely season could not color it with beauty.
A dog barked loudly as we approached.
A fat blonde woman stood at the door with a little boy by her side. Roger
seemed newly scrubbed. He hardly took his eyes off me. Ruth had a clean apron
around her shapeless waist. Now as she shook my hands in sincere delight I
noticed shamefacedly (that I should notice) how rough her hands were, how
coarse and red with labor, how ugly! She was no longer young and her smile was
pathetic. As we stepped inside and the door closed behind us, immediately I was
aware of the familiar scent of apples. The room was bare except for a few
ancient pieces of second-hand furniture. In the middle of the room stood a stove
to keep the family warm in winter. The walls were bare. Over the dining table
hung a lamp yet unlighted. Ruth got busy with the drinks. She kept coming in and
125
out of a rear room that must have been the kitchen and soon the table was heavy
with food, fried chicken legs and rice, and green peas and corn on the ear.
Even as we ate, Ruth kept standing, and going to the kitchen for more
food. Roger ate like a little gentleman. "Isn't he nice looking?" his father asked.
"You are a handsome boy, Roger," I said. The boy smiled at me. You look like
Daddy," he said. Afterwards, I noticed an old picture leaning on the top of a
dresser and stood to pick it up. It was yellow and soiled with many fingerings.
The faded figure of a woman in Philippine dress could yet be distinguished
although the face had become a blur. "Your…" I began. "I don't know who she
is," Fabia hastened to say. "I picked that picture many years ago in a room on La
Salle street in Chicago. I have often wondered who she is."
"The face wasn't a blur in the beginning?" "Oh, no. It was a young face
and good." Ruth came with a plate full of apples. "Ah," I cried, picking out a ripe
one. "I've been thinking where all the scent of apples came from. The room is full
of it." "I'll show you," said Fabia. He showed me a backroom, not very big. It was
half-full of apples. "Every day," he explained, "I take some of them to town to sell
to the groceries. Prices have been low. I've been losing on the trips." "These
apples will spoil," I said. "We'll feed them to the pigs." Then he showed me
around the farm. It was twilight now and the apple trees stood bare against a
glowing western sky. In apple blossom time it must be lovely here. But what
about wintertime? One day, according to Fabia, a few years ago, before Roger
126
was born, he had an attack of acute appendicitis. It was deep winter. The snow
lay heavy everywhere. Ruth was pregnant and none too well herself.
At first she did not know what to do. She bundled him in warm clothing
and put him on a cot near the stove. She shoveled the snow from their front door
and practically carried the suffering man on her shoulders, dragging him through
the newly made path towards the road where they waited for the U.S. Mail car to
pass. Meanwhile snowflakes poured all over them and she kept rubbing the
man's arms and legs as she herself nearly froze to death. "Go back to the house,
Ruth!" her husband cried, "you'll freeze to death." But she clung to him
wordlessly. Even as she massaged his arms and legs, her tears rolled down her
cheeks. "I won't leave you," she repeated. Finally, the U.S. Mail car arrived.
The mailman, who knew them well, helped them board the car, and,
without stopping on his usual route, took the sick man and his wife direct to the
nearest hospital. Ruth stayed in the hospital with Fabia. She slept in a corridor
outside the patients' ward and in the day time helped in scrubbing the floor and
washing the dishes and cleaning the men's things. They didn't have enough
money and Ruth was willing to work like a slave. "Ruth's a nice girl," said Fabia,
"like our own Filipino women." Before nightfall, he took me back to the hotel.
Ruth and Roger stood at the door holding hands and smiling at me. From
inside the room of the shanty, a low light flickered. I had a last glimpse of the
apple trees in the orchard under the darkened sky as Fabia backed up the car.
And soon we were on our way back to town. The dog had started barking. We
127
could hear it for some time, until finally, we could not hear it anymore, and all was
darkness around us, except where the headlamps revealed a stretch of road
leading somewhere. Fabia did not talk this time. I didn't seem to have anything to
say myself. But when finally we came to the hotel and I got down, Fabia said,
"Well, I guess I won't be seeing you again.
" It was dimly lighted in front of the hotel and I could hardly see Fabia's
face. Without getting off the car, he moved to where I had sat, and I saw him
extend his hand. I gripped it. "Tell Ruth and Roger," I said, "I love them." He
dropped my hand quickly. "They'll be waiting for me now," he said. "Look," I said,
not knowing why I said it, "one of these days, very soon, I hope, I'll be going
home. I could go to your town." "No," he said softly, sounding very much
defeated but brave, "Thanks a lot. But, you see, nobody would remember me
now.
" Then he started the car, and as it moved away, he waved his hand.
"Goodbye," I said, waving back into the darkness. And suddenly the night was
cold like winter straying early in these northern woodlands. I hurried inside. There
was a train the next morning that left for Muncie, Indiana, at a quarter after eight.
128
LITERARY ANALYSIS
Scent of Apples
Bienvinedo Santos
A story named "Scent of Apple" was penned by Bienvenido Santos. In
Santos' short narrative, the aroma of apples stands in for the homesickness that
people who are gone from their homes experience. Fabio's character is taken
back to his country of origin every time he smells an apple. Additionally, he
experiences melancholy for his "lost youth" and a sense of isolation from the rest
of humanity. Apples are thus a representation of nostalgia, exile, melancholy,
and memory.
The story began with a brief description of the author's location. Mr.
Santos, the author, was requested to address the crowd. When Mr. Santos
checked out of his hotel, he ran into Celestino Fabia.
Fabia, who is from the Philippines, owns an apple orchard, but, as the narrator
states, there is "no such thing in our own country." The house Fabia lives in with
his wife Ruth and son Roger also smells like apples, and their back room is filled
with them. Even though Fabia has apples in abundance, a kind wife, and a
handsome son, the apples are a reminder he is far from home. When the
narrator says he hopes he can visit Fabia's town in the Philippines one day soon,
Fabia says no one would remember him there now. The smell of apples reminds
Fabia that he is in the United States and can't return to his native country, and
the smell is therefore a symbol of longing and nostalgia for his homeland.
129
In Santos' short narrative, the aroma of apples stands in for the
homesickness that people who are gone from their homes experience.
The house Fabia lives in with his wife Ruth and son Roger also smells like apples
and their back room is packed with them. Fabia is from the Philippines and has
an apple orchard, but as the narrator says, "no such thing in our own country."
Fabia has plenty of apples, a loving wife, and a gorgeous son, but the apples
serve as a constant reminder that he is far from home. Fabia responds that no
one in her community in the Philippines would recognize him now when the
narrator expresses his intention to travel there one day soon.
This helped to explain why the story's title, "Scent of Apples," refers to the
fact that every time the character Fabio smells apples, he is taken back to his
native country. This was a true story about a foreigner, but it might also apply to
overseas Filipino workers who are separated from their loved ones by great
distances.
130
The Bamboo Dancers

N.V.M Gonazales
The narrative follows the journey of

protagonist Ernie Rama. Ernie is a
sculptor with a study grant in the United
States. He is aloof and avoids becoming
involved with anyone. He has only a
passing understanding of his Filipino
roots and does not have any clear
identity. As part of his journey, Ernie
receives the opportunity to travel. His
travels and his work bring him into
contact with other Filipinos who, like him, have left the rural culture behind and
are fulfilling their ambitions in the West. Firstly, while still in the US, Ernie meets
an old acquaintance – a girl working in the US on a writers’ fellowship.
Notably, Gonzalez does not name these other characters or make direct
comments about them – the reader must fill in the blanks. Ernie and this young
girl begin an affair. They spend a week living together in a borrowed New York
apartment. Because of their sexual relationship, the young girl questions her
131
morality, and the pair decide to marry. However, it is not long before she
changes her mind. She instead becomes engaged to a young and emerging
American writer, Herb Lane, who joins the USIS and has an interest in the Far
East. They begin their travels to the Philippines, so they can be married.
However, Herb dies on the way and the girl is referred to a hospital on obstetric
grounds.
Meanwhile, Ernie learns his brother is in California. He works as a
resident physician in a local hospital. After leaving his wife and child in Manila,
he pursued a sexual relationship with a young nurse. The relationship,
however, does not last long, and he sets off home to reunite with his family.
When he goes home to Manila, he returns with many luxury goods, including a
car and a television. After being apart for so long, he finds he no longer has a
functional relationship with his wife, and he does not feel any real affection
towards her. He is also not on good terms with a housemaid, who feels
threatened by him sexually and goes out of her way to avoid him. Again, the
reader observes all of this through Ernie’s perspective, but is left with the sense
none of it affects him as it perhaps should.
While in New York, Ernie meets three other Filipinos – a young man and
his two girlfriends with which he shows restrained public affection. There is a
sense that all these characters are inherently disconnected and floating through
life on the surface. Ernie travels to Japan where he learns of the tragedies
132
around Hiroshima. Again, he seems unmoved by the bomb casualties and does
not let anything affect him.
Furthermore, Ernie learns Herb is not the gentleman he believes him to
be. Herb, who dies in Taipeh, attacks his fiancé in a drunken brawl and
subsequently runs over a Chinese girl. His actions, combined, cause an anti-
American demonstration. Ernie continues to show no genuine interest in his
brother’s problems or his old fiancé’s plight. He shows no remorse and is
seemingly unaffected by the breakdown of their own relationship. To make
matters worse, at the end of the novel, Ernie suffers a near-death experience.
He almost drowns. Surprisingly, no one seems to notice or be affected by it,
and Ernie does not tell anyone.

133
LITERARY ANALYSIS
The Bamboo Dancers
N.V.M Gonzales
In the face of modernization, "The Bamboo Dancers" emphasizes the
value of tradition and cultural identity.
Cesar and his father, who serve as the main protagonists, symbolize two
generations with different viewpoints on their cultural heritage.
Cesar is initially more interested in modern hobbies, but his father appreciates
the old art of bamboo dancing and wants to teach it to his son.
The story explores the dichotomy between upholding tradition and accepting
change via their competing impulses.
Bamboo dancing's symbolic meaning is that it represents the cultural
heritage and traditions of the Filipino people.
The generational gap that separates Cesar and his father is a metaphor for the
larger conflict that exists in Philippine society between older and younger
generations.
Cesar portrays the younger generation that must decide between
upholding tradition and embracing modernity, while Cesar's father represents the
elder generation that adheres to tradition.
Cesar's willingness to embrace the bamboo dance after eventually realizing its
significance exemplifies his journey of self-discovery and Filipino identity
acceptance.
134
''The Bamboo Dancers'' is a sophisticated investigation of the conflict
between tradition and modernization, the effort to preserve cultural legacy, and
the pursuit of personal and cultural identity.

135
The Day the Dancers Came

Bienvinedo N. Santos
A Summary
Fil and Tony were both old
Filipino men living in Chicago ever
since World War II ended. Fil
described himself as an ugly old man
and described Tony as a good-looking
gentleman that looked younger than
he really was.
The story was basically about how a
group of Philippine dancers were
arriving in Chicago that day and Fil
thought that it would be an excellent idea if he took the dancers around the city,
showed them the sights and invite them back to his place for some adobo and
chicken relleno. For the first part of the story, Fil constantly talked about the
dancers to his friend and roommate Tony.
Fil and Tony have been friends pretty much ever since they moved to the
US and the entire time, Tony had been suffering from a disease that frustrated
many doctors in which caused gradual peeling all over his body. When Tony left
for the doctor, Fil left a little later to meet the dancers at the hotel. When he got
there and saw all the dancers, he completely forgot what he wanted to say and
136
lost all train of thought. So when he finally managed to gather up all the
confidence he had left to invite them to his house, they would just move away or
say, No, thanks, we’re too busy.
Later that night, he ended up going to the show alone since Tony hadn’t
yet returned from the doctor. Despite the disappointment he had earlier that day,
Fil contemplated that if he would just record the show on his tape recorder, he
would have the sounds with him to help him remember the dancers, the show
and bring back past memories.
When he got home, he noticed that Tony was back. Tony commented that
the dancers weren’t with him and that he knew they never would’ve came home
him in the first place.
Fil then started to listen to his tape recorder and his failure from earlier
that day no longer mattered to him because his recording had brought him a
certain feeling and it just filled him up with different memories and emotions.
While he listened, Tony was yelling from his room telling him to shut his recorder
off. When he asked Tony what the doctors had to say, Tony wouldn’t answer.
Tony then asked what the dancers were like and Fil told him that they were really
beautiful, young and graceful.
He heard Tony let out a sigh but as he lookeddown to the tape recorder he
held in his hands, he noticed that the spools were spinning and he finally realized
that he had pressed erase. When he tried to play it back, there was nothing
137
except for a screaming part of the finale with drums and the tolling of the bell.
When he looked outside, it was already morning.
LITERARY ANALYSIS
The Day the Dancers Came

When the Dancers Came by Bienvenido Santos has a feature in common
with the other short stories in Scent of Apples. It is the characteristic that
investigates the sensation of loss—a loss of home, country, and family—in the
Filipino American community. Santos depicts this loss in When the Dancers
Came through the narrative's central figures, Filimon Fil Acayan and Antonio
Tony Bataller. As a result, the focus of this dramatic story is primarily on the
nostalgia that exists between the two characters—how the past is influencing
their personal sense of emotion and how the past is misleading from a social
perspective and how this is hurting them in their present life.
In the story, Fil is a fairly straightforward character. In contrast to Tony,
who sees life in a completely different way as you shall discover later, he
frequently seems to express a really naive character. Fil longs for a relationship
with his fellow citizens. When he learned that these dancers from the Philippines
would be visiting, he was eager to meet them and show them around Chicago.
He is less ready to let himself be Americanized since he is more in touch with his
Filipino side.
138
He exhibits great pride in his heritage. He can be heard singing distantly
recalled old-country songs while he works . He was also proficient in the Tagalog
dialect. But his writing was flowery, romantic, and beautiful. When Fil first saw
snow, he reportedly took a handful, crumbled it up, and shoved it in his mouth.
He immediately thought back to the time he was at home in the Philippines and
the occasions when he had done it there: it brought to memory the Chinese-sold
grated ice near the town center, where he had played tatching with an older
brother.
139
Literature After Edsa Revolution
The Very Last Story of Huli

The story began at dawn, when Huli, a mute, garbage woman, screamed
loudly and woke the people of her town, Dimatanto, which is also where the
whole story occurred. The story revolved around the time when Huli in
Dimatanto, which started as her being a baby born from a disgraced child from a
rich family and to when the story ended, her left her mad (she was planning on
escaping the hospitalwhere she was brought to “change the society”, as the last
part of the story suggests). Interestingly, the name of the town, Dimatanto, is a
word in the Filipino language, which means “incomprehensible” or “not
understandable”. This wordplay seems a little self-evident but really crafty
because it somehow explains the story of the people against Huli, and as well as
their lives as well, which can be both described as tangled, tattered and does not
know where it’s going.
The one of the character of the story is named Huli (the protagonist), as
mentioned earlier, is a mute, garbage woman. Although she is mute, she is not
deaf, which means she has heard all the things that people of Dimatanto have
thrown against her. In this story, she was frequently the talk of the town, because
of her appearance and as well as her unknown origin, specially, on how she
came to Dimatanto. Huli, most of the time just ignores it, but when she realized
she could fight, she fought. Sadly, her resistance to violence using violence did
not do any good to her because she lost her mind and killed a man along the
140
way. I find that this character symbolizes helplessness, when we cannot speak
and stand for ourselves and how in these times of helplessness, we wake up our
inner demons and do the things which we become delusional and impose new
kinds of values.
The character also symbolizes the poor Filipino people, criticizing and
lamenting the very society where they belong, a society where their voices
cannot be heard and the result of this is very devastating that those poor people
cause destruction upon themselves. Another thing to point out is that Huli learned
how to express her sadness and frustrations from the social bondage that
disables her from protecting herself from the hurtful stories of the people who do
not know her since she cannot speak from herself through nothing. It’s as if the
author wants to show the effects of vulnerability and frustration, as stated earlier.
Another character from this story is Francisca, Huli’s mother and the town’s tailor.
The town thought of her as Huli’s aunt, because she introduces Huli as
her niece. Francisca gave birth to Huli without her lover (presumably) with her.
This made her family angry, and then tried to kill her baby. She then escaped
went to take care of her baby on her own. She loved Huli, but introduced her as
her niece because she is afraid of what the people may say about her.
The character shows an incredible aspect of humanity, love and as well
as one of its terrible aspect, cowardice, cowardice from staining her and her
family’s reputation. Francisca helped shape the main character’s attitude towards
people, on how people can show humanity but have within themselves an
141
underlying sickness beneath all it. Even though Huli seemed helpless after her
mother died, there was another person who took care of her, which was Tinyong,
the barangay tanod, whom Huli had slain at the dawn. Tinyong helped her to
survive. She took care of her, like he took care of his family. But for the people of
Dimatanto, his goodness was misunderstood. He seemed to have made Huli his
mistress.
This character is the representation of goodness in the society; a voice for
the helpless, so to speak. Although his too much goodness did him nothing good,
for he was killed. He suffered the consequences of evil, by evil, meaning the
things people of Dimatanto have done against her. Instead of teaching Huli to
fend for herself, he took care of her, which was the last thing Huli should do. The
goodness on her only sufficed physical needs. It made her feel accepted and fed,
but deep within her, is a voice that only wants to be heard. Instead of Tinyong
being a medium of goodness, he was a person who only knows how to pity. He
became a test of Huli’s underlying capability: to do evil. One of the people that
pushed Huli to do such a horrendous thing is the town investigator.
This character sexually harassed Huli. This character symbolizes evil in
the society, who always hides from sight. Someone who is capable of doing evil,
for the sake of evil. The seemingly uncontrollable force, a force that is exerted by
the person who cannot control it. A force that exists only for itself and concerned
only for itself, the sustenance of it hunger and the destruction of everything. The
investigator is the one who triggered Huli to kill Tinyong because, presumably,
142
Huli felt tired of being bullied around, so he put out all his anger to Tinyong, who
was just trying to help her. Of all the character’s that surrounded Huli, this is the
one that seemed the most important, the people of Dimatanto. The people of the
town was the one that set Huli’s eyes on fire. It made her aware of the people,
how they live and how they kill (by killing, meaning, destroying the environment
and etc.). It made her see the people’s path towards the future, only concerned
with looking as pleasant as possible, and is very crooked and tangled and do not
know where it’s going. The way that their stories about Huli can also be
described like this, full of unnecessary details and very wrong.
This made Huli mad, thinking that if she physically acts out against this
kind of thing, she could change everything. The people of Dimatanto also created
the children in the cemetery, which Huli always talks to. Of course, all of these
are in her mind, but those manifestations sprung from her sadness and anger of
the people, which lead to her understanding of the people, the poor and
indecisive people of Dimatanto. These “children” taught Huli to become human.
The plot surrounds on Huli’s life, from her deafening shrill at dawn from
killing Tinyong, her life as garbage woman roaming around the streets, then
going back in time to tell to tell her story since she was a child, when she grew to
be abused for her disability, and to her on the caring hands of Tinyong, her being
molested by the town investigator, up to her murdering Tinyong and on the last
part, which is just a lamentation of all the things that happened to her and the
town. The story also discussed her mother’s life briefly, her frustrations about
143
being voiceless and helpless, and of her being with and eventually being away,
together with the “children of the dark”.

144
LITERARY ANALYSIS
The Very Last Story of Huli

The plight of Filipino society appears to be highlighted in the narrative.
The story highlights the voiceless Filipino population, which has been frequently
discussed, and how these unheard voices are constantly controlled, altered, and
manipulated for an unidentified purpose. This means that Filipinos refuse to start
the change within themselves and instead concentrate on creating a country of
seemingly unfathomable magnanimity. The majority of Filipinos are more
concerned with the big picture and less bothered with the small but extremely
detailed and significant aspects of society. Because of the broken and disabled
society that people have built, there is complete anarchy and dire consequences
for the people. In terms of the victory of evil over good, it is important to think that
Huli is good, but what she did was evil, so her frustrations led her to do
something horrible towards someone.

145
The Execution
Charlson Ong
A Summary
G od had sliced open the sun, spilling

its innards, carving out its heart.
That sun had never seemed the same to me
ever since.
The man`s true identity escaped his
persecutors---known to all of us as Gan So,
but Lim Seng according to his papers---thus,
another poor chap to be remembered in
ignominy till the end of time as the only dope
dealer to be publicly executed in the
Philippines, all for having sold his name to
another, Strange, though how most Chinamen look alike on television.
The rest of the world outside home, family, and school was so much black
and white for us kids.
I remember my younger brother Ricky, not yet five then, screaming his
tonsils out that they'd shot Father.
Ricky had bounded up from in front of the television set where he was
watching the first-ever live coverage of a Philippine musketry.

146
Our cousin Mikey had convinced Ricky that the plump man in a light-hued
Banlon shirt, whose swollen, blindfolded head dropped to his chest after the rifles
facing him barked and a dozen murky spots were impaled upon his body, was
Father.
Ricky screamed as I trudged through the door and Mother began slapping
Mikey, almost fifteen then, an adopted son of Mother's sister.
Ricky wasn't crying though, he must have thought Father was enjoying
himself inside some television cowboy shootout.
It was I, coming home alone, leaving Father behind at the military camp
where they carried out the musketry---crying, begging for Father to come home
with me as I, an untravelled nine year-old, hardly knew the way home; and he
yelling, screaming at me to go home and leave him be---who rushed headlong for
Mother, burying my head on her lap.
‘‘He's not coming home, Mother.
I don't remember whether it was a day or a week later.
I remember Ricky jumping with joy.
He had forgotten about the shooting; he thought Father had returned from
one of his occasional trips to Cebu where he sold most of our imported textiles.
Ricky asked for his present while Mother remained sad and silent.
She had prayed so hard for Father never again to return.
‘‘Have you eaten?‘‘ I remember her asking him.
He didn't answer her.

147
He never answered many of her questions since.
The dawn of the execution I was awakened by my parents' voices.
Isn't it?‘‘ Father spoke as if a knife grated against his throat.
‘‘ Mother screamed at Father, calling him Hilario---after her own Father.
‘‘ Father had promised the night before to take me to watch the musketry.
Mother had registered her perfunctory protest, but couldn't tell just then
how serious Father was.
Father was shocked the day the military picked up Gan.
A middle-class textile merchant, Gan belonged to the same merchants'
association as Father, and the two were casual acquaintances.
There had been previous rumors about Gan's clandestine ‘‘sidelines,‘‘ but
by the large, he was considered a fatuous man who had neither the brains nor
guts to make half as much money as he boasted having.
Months before his arrest Gan had dropped by our store for an afternoon
chat with Father and some friends and had intimated that martial law was soon to
be declared.
Later the presidential spokesman appeared on television---to confirm the
rumors.
Father was disturbed but silent.
He began doing calligraphy with his ink and brush---the first time he'd
done so since the hours awaiting Ricky's birthing five years before.
148
Sheet upon sheet of delicate black swirls and thin, fine strokes---like the
insides of a cell nucleus I discovered a few years later peering for the first time
through the ocular of an electron microscope in chemistry class.
That one was from the 3,000 year-old Book of Odes, according to Uncle
Soo, Father's cousin.
Father scribbled as a man possessed, leaving his calligraphy scattered all
over the place.

149
LITERARY ANALYSIS
The Execution
Charlson Ong
The framework of "The Execution" is that of a framed narrative, in which a
storyteller tells a group of listeners about an earlier occurrence. This framing
technique allows for the examination of many viewpoints and interpretations and
adds another layer of storytelling. As the events are described in vivid detail by
the storyteller, it also gives the story a sense of immediacy.
The story is filled with deep meaning and stirring imagery from Ong. The
"executioner's cage" metaphor illustrates how the legal system is oppressive and
demeaning. The "wheel of fortune" alludes to the cyclical patterns of power and
influence as well as the randomness of fate. These symbols deepen the story's
thematic complexity and provide the unfolding events a thought-provoking
context.
The issue of power and its repercussions on people and society are
explored in the novel. The executioner has great control over the condemned, yet
he is also subject to the authority of those in positions of authority. Ong
emphasizes how power has a degrading effect and feeds the cycle of
oppression. The interaction between the prisoner and the executioner
demonstrates the intricate interplay of vulnerability, control, and power.
Ong challenges the readers' conceptions of what is right and evil by
presenting an ethically ambiguous situation. Despite being sentenced to death,
the prisoner is not presented as a blatantly innocent victim. The distinction

150
between guilt and innocence is muddled by his prior deeds and engagement in
illegal operations. Readers are compelled to consider the nature of justice and
the possibility of atonement in light of this moral ambiguity.
The justice system is criticized in "The Execution" for its shortcomings.
Ong questions the violence, arbitrariness, and fairness of the death penalty.
Through the narrative, he examines the more general social problems of poverty,
corruption, and the underlying causes of crime. As a mirror, the narrative reflects
the socioeconomic realities of modern Filipino society.
Ong dives deeply into the characters' psychological states, especially that
of the executioner. He investigates the internal conflict of the executioner while
examining themes of guilt, obligation, and the significance of one's deeds. Ong
illustrates the profound emotions and ethical issues experienced by people
working in such a terrible industry by penetrating the characters' minds.
In conclusion, Charlson Ong's "The Execution" is a thought-provoking
short story that dives into topics of power, oppression, morality, and the human
condition. The story encourages readers to consider the nature of justice and the
consequences of power imbalances through its narrative structure, symbolism,
and social criticism. Ong's investigation of the characters' psychological and
moral intricacies adds depth and richness to the story, making it a riveting and
impactful work of writing.

151
Geyluv
Honorio De Dios
Yun lang at hindi na siya
nagsalita pang muli. Nagpaulit-ulit ang
mga kataga sa aking diwa. Natunaw
na ang yelo sa baso ng serbesa,
lumamig na ang sisig, namaalam na
ang singer, pero wala pa ring umiimik
sa aming dalawa. Hanggang sa
marating namin ang apartment n`ya.
Kaya ako na ang nauna. Okey lang
ako. Kung sino man ang huling umuwi,
kailangang tumawag pagdating para
matiyak na safe itong nakarating sa
bahay. Pero mga ateeee, bumigay na
naman ako sa hiyaw ng aking puso. Di na ako nakapagsalita pagkatapos kong
banggitin sa kanyang “I love you, Mike. ” At ang balak ko talaga, habang
panahon ko na siyang di kausapin, after that trying-hard-to-be-romantic evening.
Diyos ko, ano ba naman ang aasahan ko kay Mike ano? Noong una
kaming magkita sa media party, di ko naman siya pinansin. Oo, guwapo si Mike
at macho ang puwit, pero di ko talaga siya type. Kung napansin ko raw ang
guwapong nakatayo doon sa isang sulok. Sabi ko sa kanya, wala akong

152
panahon at kung gusto niyang maglandi nung gabing iyon, siya na lang. Talaga
naman pong makaraan ang tatlong masalimuot na love-hate relationship na
tinalo pa yata ang love story nina Janice de Belen at Nora Aunor, sinarhan ko na
ang puso ko sa mga lalaki. Aba, at mas guwapo pala sa malapitan ang Mike na
ito.
Natulig talaga nang husto ang nagbibingi-bingihan kong puso. Of course,
siya ang nagprisinta. Imbyerna na ako noon kay Joana, noong magpunta kami
sa Zambales para sa interview nitong si Mike. Aba, pumapel nang pumapel ang
bruha. Daig pa ang “Probe Team” sa pagtatanong ng kung anu-ano rito kay
Mike. At ang Mike naman, napaka-accomodating, sagot nang sagot. Pagdating
naman sa Pampanga, bigla nga akong nag-ayang tumigil para mag-soft drink.
Kailangan ko na kasing manigarilyo nang mga oras na iyon.
Gasgas na sa akin ang puna ng mga amiga kong baklita na ilusyon ko
lang ang paghahanap ng meaningful relationship. Sabi ko naman, tumanda man
akong isang ilusyunadang bakla, maghihintay pa rin ako sa pagdating ng isang
meaningful relationship sa aking buhay. Naniniwala yata akong pinagpala din ng
Diyos ang mga bakla! . Mataray itong si Benjie, mataray na bakla, `ika nga.
Habang lumalalim ang aming pagiging magkakilala, lalo ko namang naiintindihan
kung bakit siya mataray. `Yun ang usual defense niya `pag may nanlalait sa
kanyang macho. Ang taray, ano po? Pero hanggang ganyan lang naman ang
taray nitong si Benjie. Lalo na pag nai-involve siya sa isang lalaki. Natatakot na
153
kasi siyang magamit, ang gamiting ng ibang tao ang kanyang kabaklaan para sa
sarili nilang kapakanan.
May negative reactions agad siya `pag nagiging malapit at sweet sa kanya
ang mga lalaki. Tulad noong nakikinig siya sa interview ko sa namamahala ng
evacuation center sa isang eskuwelahan sa Zambales. Naikuwento kasi nito ang
tungkol sa asawa ng isang government official na ayaw sumunod sa regulasyong
ng center sa pamamahagi ng relief good upang maiwasan ang gulo sa pagitan
ng mga “kulot” at “unat na pawang mga biktima ng pagsabog ng Pinatubo.
Simple lang naman ang regulasyon: kailangang maayos ang pila ng mga
kinatawan ng bawat pamilya upang kumuha ng relief goods.
Ang gusto naman daw mangyari ng babaeng iyon, tatayo siya sa stage ng
eskuwelahan at mula doon ay ipamamahagi niya ang mga relief goods, kung
kanino man niya maiabot. Alam na raw ng mga namamahala ng center ang
gustong mangyari ng babae: ang makunan siya ng litrato at video habang
kunwa`y pinagkakaguluhan ng mga biktima—unat man o kulot. Nasunod ang
gusto nung babae, ngunit ang mga unat lamang ang nagkagulo sa kanyang
dalang relief goods.
Ayon sa namamahala ng center, nasanay na raw kasi ang mga kulot sa
organisadong pagkuha ng mga relief goods. Pero nagreklamo rin sila nung
bandang huli kung bakit hindi sila nakatanggap ng tulong. Iiling-iling na kinuha ni
Benjie ang pangalan ng babaeng iyon. Ang putang inang iyon. At `di rin siya
nanlalalaki, `yun bang namimik-ap kung saan-saan. Bukod sa takot itong si

154
Benjie na magkaroon ng sakit at mabugbog, di rin niya gustong arrangement ang
money for love. Gusto niya, ture love at meaningful relationship. `Yun din naman
ang hanap ko.
Sabagay, maganda naman talaga itong si carmi. Ewan ko nga lang dito
kay Carmi kung bakit laging nagseselos sa akin. Hanggang ngayon, di pa rin
niya maintindihan ang nature ng trabaho ko, e dalawang taon na kaming
magsyota. Kung mag-demand sa akin, para bang gugunawin ng Diyos ang
mundo kinabukasan.
155
LITERARY ANALYSIS
Geyluv
Honorio De Dios
Geyluv is a story about two males who have opposing sexual orientations.
Mike, a close straight buddy of Benjie, falls in love with him. Benjie expressed his
feelings for Mike, which was followed by a flashback of how they met and
became friends. Because the story involves the ideas and insights of a
Heterosexual Man to a Homosexual Man and vice versa, the story is written in a
way involving queer theory. It illuminates their emotions and what is going on in
their heads when they interact with one another. It describes what these two
people think of each other and their connection. Although the story has an open
ending, it does not have the conventional happily ever after or tragic finish. The
story gives a hint of positivity that somewhat assures the readers that the story
might actually end up happy while not giving out the actual ending itself, giving
the story temporal continuity meaning they might still be together and the story is
still on-going despite the piece of literature being over. De Dios, like Herman
Ville's legendary masterpiece, Moby Dick, employed a striking one-liner to pique
his readers' interest. While Ville has "Call me Ishmael," de Dios has "I love you
Mike." It is simple, yet powerful; brief, yet specific.
This narrative is relatively new, and its premise is well-known, particularly
in these days when the world is filled with homosexuals. It provides readers with
insight into the mentality of a homosexual man. It also demonstrates to readers
that "gay" guys are not that different from their heterosexual counterparts and
156
that they should be treated with the same respect as any other people. It also
demonstrates that there are "straight" males who are at ease with personal
friendship with homosexuals. This also teaches homophobic people that gay
guys are not terrible and should not be treated negatively. Even in today's world,
when these people are treated better than in the past, there is still discrimination
that is happening.
157
AMONG THE
DISAPPEARED (KABILANG
SA MGA NAWALA)
By: Ricky Lee
Taong 1972. Pinamunuan ng
mga militar ang buong
Pilipinas. Ang pagbaba ng
Martial
Law sa taong ito ay maitim na
latay sa ating kasaysayan.
Maraming buhay ang nawala,
ni-raid na
mga bahay, hinuling mga tao at
ipinasarang diyaryo at radio.
158
Maraming nag-underground.
May
mga gumamit ng ibang
pangalan at pagkatao upang
hindi mahuli ng mga militar.
AMONG THE DISAPPEARED (KABILANG SA MGA NAWALA)
Ricardo Lee
T aong 1972.
Pinamunuan ng
mga militar ang
buong Pilipinas.
Ang pagbaba ng
Martial Law sa
taong ito ay maitim
na latay sa ating
kasaysayan.
Maraming buhay
ang nawala, ni-raid
na mga bahay,
hinuling mga tao at ipinasarang diyaryo at radio. Maraming nag-

159
underground. May mga gumamit ng ibang pangalan at pagkatao
upang hindi mahuli ng mgamilitar.
Noong panahong iyon ipinanganak si Jun-Jun. Anak siya ng paanas na
usapan sa mga kanto at palihim na pasahan ng mga sulat. Anak siya ng Martial
Law. Lumaki si Jun-Jun sa hindi niya tunay na mga magulang. Laging siyang
may takot sa mga mata. Puro pasakit at dusa ang kanyang naranasan sa piling
ng mga ito. Payatot na siya bata pa, laging nakaturtleneck kapag pumapasok
para huwag makita ng mga kaklase ang mga pasa sa leeg. Matalino at magaling
sanang kumanta si Jun-Jun, ngunit sa mga pilit ng kanyang ina lalong
umurong ang boses niya. Ipit ang lumalabas na mga tunog. Naranasan na
rin niyang makipagusap sa aparador buong araw hanggang sa ang aparador na
ang magsalita para sa kanya. Dumating ang araw ng kanyang pagkawala.
Disisyete anyos siya. Lumabas ng bahay at hindi na nagbalik. Umiiyak ang
batang yagit. Tinakpan ng diyaryo ang katawang malamig. Nagmistula
siyang hangin, nasa paligid ngunit hindi nakikita. Sa kanyang pagkawala9y
unang pinuntahan si Gene. Si Gene na tagapagligtas niya sa eskwelahan,
ngayo9y hindi na siya nakikita. Malungkot na lumabas si Jun-Jun mula sa kwarto
ni Gene. Habang nasa kalsada9y muling naramdaman niya ang walang
kapantay na pag-iisa. Napaupo siya sa bangketa at habang dinadaanan at
sinasagasaan ng mga tao9y napayukong parang natalo, walang tunog na
iniyakan ang kanyang pagkawala. Kung saan-saan nagpunta at sumiksik si Jun-

160
Jun. Una niyang nakilala si Pongka-Pongka. Isa itong magaling na impersonator.
Pinaghalo-halo niya sina Farrah Fawcett, Shirley Bassey at Dianna Rose.
Nakakalito pero nais talaga niyang lituhin ang mga manonood.
Madalas umiiyak si Pongka-Pongka pagkatapos ng kanyang pagpapatwa.
Malimit kasi siyang laiitin ng mga tao. Pinagtatawanan at pinagmumukhang
tanga. Nilapitan siya ni Jun-Jun. Aabutan sana niya ito ng tissue paper, pero
hangin lamang ang nahawakan niya. Dininig na lamang niya ang malungkot na
istorya ng buhay ni Pongka-Pongka. Dahil sa pang-iismol ng mga kamag-anak at
pang- i ay ipinangako niya sa kanyang sarili na sisikat at yayaman din siya.
Noong aapbata9y binubugbog siya ng padir niya dahil bakla siya, ngunit ng
makatrabaho ay sinasaktan pa rin kapag hindi nagiintrega ng pera. Sinundan
siya ni Jun-Jun papauwi. Dito niya nalaman na may ampon ito. Si Kess. Siyam
na taong gulang. Tulad ni Jun-Jun, lagi rin itong sinasaktan kapag mainit ang
ulo ni Pongka-Pongka. Makikita sa mga mata ni Kess ang takot na
nararamdaman. Nakikita ni Jun-Jun ang sarili kay Kess. Sa kabila ng mga palo
ni Pongka-Pongka sa kanya ay isang inang mapagmahal. Umalis muli si Jun-
Jun. Iniwan ang mag-ina. Nakilala niya si Mitch Valdez. Isa ring magaling na
impersonator at artista. Sikat dati ngunit nalaos din. Gusto ni Jun-Jun si Mitch
dahil may sugat ito sa boses. Nagpapatawa pero parang kapag sinundot ay
mapapahagulgol. Para kay Jun-Jun, ang mga manonood ay isang dagat
ng mga bungangang nakanganga, nilalabasan ng iba9t ibang klaseng hagalpak.
Pare-pareho lamang sila. Si Jun-Jun, Pongka- ga kaluluwang walang

161
mapuntahan. Mga matang Pongka, Kess at Mitch& mayaw sa tulog. Mga
paang gala. Sila ang mga taong kung hindi nagtatago ay nawawala. Dumating
ang sandaling ninais ni Jun-Jun na hanapin ang sarili niya, Kung saan
siya nagmula at sino ang kanyang mga tunay na magulang. Bumalik siya sa dati
niyang tinitirhan at dito nakita ang isang papel, address ng isang saleslady sa
Shoeworld. Ito ang babaeng pinag-abutan ng kanyang ama bago ito patayin ng
mga sundalo. Dito niya nalaman na mga rebolusyonaryo ang kanyang mga
magulang.
Nagsimula siyang gumala sa mga strike at rallies. Napuno ang tenga niya
ng mga imperyalismo at kolonyalismo, pagbatikos at pagbalikwas. Nilanghap
niya ang amoy ng pagtutol at nilisan ang sigaw ng paghihimagsik. Sa isang rally
niya nakita ang kanyang mukha. Nasa placard hawak ng isang matandang
babae. Siya at kanyang ama ang nasa larawan: Jonathan at Emmanuel
Lumibao, pinaslang at dinukot ng pasistang estado. Bigyan sila ng
katarungan! Sinundan niya pauwi ang matandang babae... ang kanyang Lola.
Nagpakilala siya rito kahit hindi siya nakikita. Nagulat ang kanyang lola ngunit
sinundan rin ng pagluha. Sa wakas ay natagpuan niya ang kanyang apo.
Nalaman dito ni Jun-Jun ang tunay na pagkatao ng kanyang mga magulang. Si
Manny at si Amy. Isang bayani at isang mandirigma. Ang nakalipas niya ay
rebolusyonaryo. Bumalik sa alaala ni Jun-Jun ang mga pangyayari kung bakit
sila nagkahiwalay ni Manny. Tatlong taon siya noon habang namamasyal sa
Shoeworld ay biglang lumapit ang tatlong sundalo sa kanyang ama at

162
tinutukan sila. Binaril ang kanyang ama hanggang sa mamatay. Ang ina niya9y
matapang at mahusay mag-disguise. Minsan nang mahuli ito ng mga sundalo ay
nagpanggap na isang titser.
Gumawa ito ng isang kumpletong buhay at iyon ang pinanindigan. Dahil
ang mga taong UG ay kailangang maraming katauhan. Para manatiling buhay ay
kailangang nagsusuot ng iba9t ibang mukha. Parang impersonator. Dinala siya
ng kanyang Lola kay Dante, ang kaibigan ng kanyang ina sa kilusan.
Nagpatulong sila rito kung paano niya makikita ang kanyang ina.
Kasamahan si Dante ni Amy sa kilusan. Isa rin itong matinik sa mga militar.
Binigyan niya si Jun-Jun ng iba9t ibang aral ng lipunan. Naniniwala ito na sa
mundo lahat ng bagay ay magkakakabit. Walang nag-iisa o hiwalay. Kaya
mahalaga ang pakikisangkot. Aniya kay Jun-Jun, kung hindi mo alam kung saan
ka nanggaling ay paano mo malalaman kung saan ka pupunta? Ang mga
sumunod na araw ay paghihintay ng balita kung nasaan ang kanyang ina. Para
sa isang desaparecidos, kapag umuulan pinakamasakit ang mga alaala. Nagulat
si Jun-Jun nang ipakilala siya ni Dante kay Gene. Bahagi na rin pala ito ng
kilusan. Alam ni Gene kung nasaan ang kanyang ina. Halos legend na raw ito sa
kilusan. Matapang at matalino.
katawan. Umaagos ang dugo. Nabuong muli ang katawan tulad ng
impersonator na unti-unting nabuo sa pagkatao ng iba. Sa pagmulat ng kanyang
mga mataay nakita niya sina Gene, Dante, Mitch, Pongka-Pongka at Kess. Lahat
sila ay natutuwa. Sa wakas, nagbalik na ang nawawala. SUMMARY Taong 1972.

163
Pinamunuan ng mga militar ang buong Pilipinas. Ang pagbaba ng Martial Law sa
taong ito ay maitim na latay sa ating kasaysayan. Maraming buhay ang nawala,
ni-raid na mga bahay, hinuling mga tao at ipinasarang diyaryo at radio. Maraming
nag-underground. May mga gumamit ng ibang pangalan at pagkatao upang hindi
mahuli ng mga militar. Dumating ang araw ng kanyang pagkawala. Disisyete
anyos siya. Lumabas ng bahay at hindi na nagbalik. Umiiyak ang batang
yagit. Tinakpan ng diyaryo ang katawang malamig. Nagmistula siyang
hangin, nasa paligid ngunit hindi nakikita. Sa kanyang pagkawalay unang
pinuntahan si Gene. Si Gene na tagapagligtas niya sa eskwelahan, ngayoy
hindi na siya nakikita. Kung saan-saan nagpunta at sumiksik si Jun-Jun. Una
niyang nakilala si Pongka-Pongka. Isa itong magaling na impersonator.
Nilapitan siya ni Jun-Jun. Aabutan sana niya ito ng tissue paper, pero
hangin lamang ang nahawakan niya. Dininig na lamang niya ang malungkot na
istorya ng buhay ni Pongka- Pongka. Sinundan siya ni Jun-Jun papauwi. Dito
niya nalaman na may ampon ito. Si Kess. Siyam na taong gulang. Umalis muli si
Jun-Jun. Iniwan ang mag-ina. Nakilala niya si Mitch Valdez. Isa ring
magaling na impersonator at artista. Dumating ang sandaling ninais ni Jun-Jun
na hanapin ang sarili niya, Kung saan siya nagmula at sino ang kanyang mga
tunay na magulang. Bumalik siya sa dati niyang tinitirhan at dito nakita ang isang
papel, address ng isang saleslady sa Shoeworld. Ito ang babaeng pinag-abutan
ng kanyang ama bago ito patayin ng mga sundalo. Nagsimula siyang gumala sa
mga strike at rallies. Napuno ang tenga niya ng mga imperyalismo at

164
kolonyalismo, pagabatikos at pagbalikwas. Nilanghap niya ang amoy ng
pagtutol at nilisan ang sigaw ng paghihimagsik.Sinundan niya pauwi ang
matandang babae, ang kanyang Lola. Nagpakilala siya rito kahit hindi siya
nakikita.
Nagulat ang kanyang lola ngunit sinundan rin ng pagluha. Sa wakas ay
natagpuan niya ang kanyang apo. Dinala siya ng kanyang Lola kay Dante, ang
kaibigan ng kanyang ina sa kilusan. Nagpatulong sila rito kung paano niya
makikita ang kanyang ina. Ang mga sumunod na araw ay paghihintay ng
balita kung nasaan ang kanyang ina. Para sa isang desaparecidos, kapag
umuulan pinakamasakit ang mga alaala. Nagulat si Jun-Jun nang ipakilala siya ni
Dante kay Gene. Pinagmasdan ang ina at hinagkan niya sa noo. Kahit hindi siya
nakikita ay matiimtim na binantayan ang kanyang ina sa buong magdamag. Hindi
na muna nagpakilala si Jun-Jun kay Amy. Lumusob ang mga sundalo.
Nagliparan ang mga bala at naghahanap ng paglalagusan. Nais sana itakas
ni Jun-Jun si Amy ngunit inabutan sila ng isang sundalo. Akmang babarilin si
Amy ngunit humarang si JunJun. Sa huling pagkakataon ay hindi tumagos
ang bala sa katawan niya. Unti-unting nagbalik ang katawan. Umaagos
ang dugo. Nabuong muli ang katawan tulad ng impersonator na unti-unting
nabuo sa pagkatao ng iba. Sa
pagmulat ng kanyang mga mataay nakita niya sina Gene, Dante, Mitch,
Pongka-Pongka at Kess. Lahat sila ay natutuwa. Sa wakas, nagbalik na ang
nawawala.
165
LITERARY ANALYSIS
Among the disappeared

Ricardo Lee
President Ferdinand Marcos ruled from 1972 to 1981. Lee uses this
historical context to shed light on the human rights violations and political
repression that occurred during this time period. He investigates the destructive
consequences of state-sponsored violence on individuals and communities by
focusing on forced disappearances.
Activism and Social Injustice:
"Among the Disappeared" explores themes of social injustice and the
pursuit of justice and the truth. Lee depicts society's neglected and downtrodden
groups, emphasizing their misery and struggle against an oppressive state. In the
midst of significant human rights breaches, the novel addresses the role of
activism and resistance, highlighting the need of solidarity and collective action.
Lee introduces a wide range of individuals whose lives overlap in the
story. Each individual has a unique backstory that reflects the larger social and
political climate of the time. Lee humanizes the victims of enforced
disappearances through their experiences, giving voice to their hardships and
demonstrating the strength and determination of regular people in unusual
circumstances.
The novel delves into the psychological effects of forced disappearances
on both victims and loved ones. Lee looks into the sorrow, sadness, and
uncertainty felt by those who have been left behind, revealing the emotional toll
166
and long-term consequences of state brutality. He investigates the issues of
memory, loss, and identity, depicting how these horrific occurrences shape and
define the lives of the characters.
"Among the Disappeared" has a non-linear narrative structure that shifts
between time periods and perspectives. This fragmentary storytelling mirrors the
characters' shattered lives and contributes to the sense of bewilderment and
uncertainty. Lee employs this storytelling method to stress the subject's
complexities as well as the gaps and silences surrounding the disappearances.
Lee weaves symbolism and allegory throughout the work to express
deeper truths. The image of the disappeared, which appears again, depicts the
eradication of truth, justice, and human rights. It represents the silence and
repression of rebellious voices. Through the use of these literary elements, Lee
asks readers to consider the broader ramifications of state brutality, as well as
the significance of maintaining memory and finding truth.
In conclusion, Ricardo Lee's "Among the Disappeared" is a dramatic novel
that analyzes the human impact of forced disappearances in the Philippines
during the martial regime era. The novel draws light on the victims' and their
families' injustices and traumas through its historical backdrop, social
commentary, and concentration on personal experiences. Lee's use of narrative
structure, symbolism, and allegory adds depth and complexity to the story,
making it a moving and thought-provoking piece of literature.

167
Literature of the Regions

America is in the Heart
Carlson Bulosan
A Summary
C arlos Bulosan—who
goes by Allos for most of the
book—is an illiterate peasant
child in Binalonan, Philippines
in the 1910s. His awareness of
his family is limited to
impressions. His father is a
sad, hard-working man forced
to watch the amount of land he
is allowed to farm dwindle. His
mother is a long-suffering, perennially pregnant woman with a generous heart
but no real aspirations beyond survival. Allos has four brothers whom he has
never even met during the first part of the book: Amado, Macario, Leon, and
Luciano.
Allos’s travels—sometimes he will visit three or more towns in the space
of a page—expose him to the middle class, a privileged group of elites who
despise the peasants. He is consumed with a desire to educate himself but
knows that this is unlikely if he remains in the Philippines. Eventually, after his
168
father loses all of the family’s land, Allos goes to America to join Amado and
Macario.
Unfortunately, America is not what Allos imagined it to be. Many
Americans despise and look down on Filipinos, especially in California. Filipinos
cannot become naturalized American citizens, which hampers their upward
mobility and aspirations. For years, Allos travels up and down the Pacific Coast
as he searches for work, hope, and his scattered family members. The
destinations of his travels rarely matter. Rather, his frantic, aimless wandering
shows an utter lack of roots and purpose in his new country.
With the help of inspirational acquaintances, Allos eventually educates
himself through reading and writing. However, his intellectual horizons are
constrained by the frequent acts of violence that he witnesses and occasionally
participates in. Each time Allos makes a breakthrough in his education, or his
view of himself and his people improves, he sees or experiences something
that sets him back. During his time in America, Allos flirts with a life of crime,
occasionally stealing in order to support himself.
After his father’s death, Allos gains purpose by involving himself with the
labor movement in California. He writes for various socialist newspapers and
distributes pro-union pamphlets. He also works to preserve the Filipino
Workers’ Association by uniting Filipino and Mexican workers. Doing so
becomes dangerous for Allos and his allies, three of whom are kidnapped and
beaten by anti-union hoodlums.

169
Meanwhile, Allos publishes his poetry which attracts the attention of a
woman named Eileen Odell, who becomes his close friend. Around this time,
doctors diagnose Allos with tuberculosis and predict he may only live five more
years. Following a series of lung operations, Allos convalesces for two years in
a hospital.
Upon his discharge from the hospital, Allos is instrumental in launching the
Committee for the Protection of Filipino Rights, a Los Angeles-based
organization devoted to winning American citizenship for Filipino immigrants.
When the U.S. enters World War II following the 1941 bombing of Pearl Harbor,
Allos helps draft a resolution to allow Filipino Americans to serve in the armed
forces. President Franklin D. Roosevelt signs the resolution, and Macario
enlists.
As the book concludes, Allos is on the firmest ground of his life, even
though he still suffers from tuberculosis. He succeeds in his quest to become a
published writer. Not only that, his writing has an activist, political bent. Allos
finally finds a way to fight against a corrupt system that does not require him to
bleed or to shed blood.

170
LITERARY ANALYSIS
America is in the Heart

Carlos Bulosan
The novel portrays the challenges faced by Filipino immigrants in America
during the early 20th century. Bulosan vividly describes the hardships,
discrimination, and exploitation they encountered while striving to achieve the
American Dream. Through his own experiences and those of his fellow
immigrants, he exposes the stark contrast between the idealized vision of
America and the harsh realities faced by marginalized communities.
Bulosan explores the pervasive racism and discrimination experienced by
Filipino immigrants in America. He confronts the racial prejudices, violence, and
systemic oppression that Filipino communities faced, both within society at large
and within their own ethnic enclaves. The novel raises awareness of the
intersecting forms of discrimination and the struggles of Filipinos in the context of
racial hierarchies.
"America Is in the Heart" delves into questions of identity and belonging.
Bulosan grapples with his Filipino heritage and the desire to assimilate into
American society while maintaining his cultural roots. The novel examines the
complexities of forming a sense of self amidst a hostile environment, as well as
the internal conflicts that arise from navigating multiple cultural identities.
Bulosan sheds light on the exploitation of Filipino migrant workers in the
American labor system. He exposes the injustices, poor working conditions, and
171
economic exploitation faced by Filipino farm laborers and domestic workers. The
novel emphasizes the importance of labor activism and collective resistance as a
means to challenge oppressive systems and fight for workers' rights.
Bulosan emphasizes the transformative power of education and literature
in uplifting individuals and communities. He highlights the role of education as a
tool for empowerment and social change. Through his own journey of self-
education and the pursuit of writing, Bulosan demonstrates the power of words to
give voice to the marginalized and inspire collective action.
"America Is in the Heart" underscores the significance of community and
solidarity in the face of adversity. Bulosan depicts the bonds formed within
Filipino communities, the support networks that sustain individuals, and the
collective efforts to resist oppression and fight for justice. The novel celebrates
the resilience and strength found in communal ties.
In summary, "America Is in the Heart" by Carlos Bulosan is a powerful
autobiographical novel that explores the immigrant experience and the struggles
faced by Filipino communities in the United States. Through themes of
immigration, racism, identity, labor exploitation, and the power of community,
Bulosan offers a searing critique of American society while highlighting the
resilience and determination of those seeking a better life. The novel remains a
significant work in Filipino-American literature, shedding light on the complexities
of the immigrant narrative and the ongoing pursuit of equality and social justice.
172
Blasted Hopes (Nalpay A Namnama)

Leona Florentino
(English Version)
What gladness and what joy
are endowed to one who is loved
for truly there is one to share
all his sufferings and his pain.
My fate is dim, my stars so low
perhaps nothing to it can compare,
for truly I do not doubt
for presently I suffer so.
For even I did love,
the beauty whom I desired
never do I fully realize
that I am worthy of her.
Shall I curse the hour
when first I saw the light of day
would it not have been better a thousand times
I had died when I was born.

173
Would I want to explain
but my tongue remains powerless
for now do I clearly see
to be spurned is my lot.
But would it be my greatest joy
to know that it is you I love,
for to you do I vow and a promise I make
it’s you alone for whom I would lay my life.

174
LITERARY ANALYSIS
Blasted Hopes (Nalpay A Namnama)

Leona Florentino
Bigong Pag-asa is an original composition by Leona Floretino. It was
originally written in Ilocano with the title "Nalpay a Nannama". The perspective of
this poem is all about the concept of love. It's about being loved and not being
loved, and loving someone without receiving anything in return. This poem
conveys the essence of love and the happiness of having someone to love and
share joy, laughter, and even painful moments. The third stanza shows the
opposite of the idea of being loved. It shows how hurtful it is to have no one to
dedicate your life to. It seems unhappy to spend every day alone feeling unloved.
The world you inhale and exhale is like aimless survival. All you see is sorrow,
pain and suffering. And the rest describes the feeling of being in love. It shows
what love can do when that thing called love comes upon you.
When you love someone deeply, you can do anything you can't imagine,
as if you have superpowers to conquer the world. Love makes your life full of
meaning, color and variety.
This poem summarizes what love looks like and how it affects our lives. It
makes us aware of the impact love has on our current state as human beings.
175
Revolt From Hymen

O to be free at last, to sleep at last
As infants sleep within the womb of rest!
To stir and stirring find no blackness vast
With passion weighted down upon the breast,
To turn the face this way and that and feel
No kisses festering on it like sores,
To be alone at last, broken the seal
That marks the flesh no better than a whore’s!

176
LITERARY ANALYSIS
Revolt From Hymen

In Angela Manalang-Gloria`s poem, the hymen becomes a symbol for the
society's concept of femininity. The persona in the ‘‘Revolt from Hymen‘‘ can be
compared to a woman writer who aims to free herself from the constricting
boundaries of the feminine position. The kisses on the third stanza are a symbol
of patriarchal society's high regard for women who conform to the stereotypical
female attributes of purity and passivity.
The persona believes that these kisses, just like festering sores, are
things that women should not want for themselves. The virgin, whose hymen is
still intact, is a symbol for all the women who chose to submit to the standards
connected with femininity. Women writers are like whores because both of them
transgress the society's concept of femininity. Both of them—the whore and the
woman writer—are subversive because they chose to rebel against these
stereotypical roles. The persona in the poem chose to write and free herself
despite being labeled a whore than to be a virgin and remain forever muted.
The lines ‘‘[breaking] the seal / That marks the flesh no better than a
whore's‘‘ pertains to the process of severing the chains that bind the feminine
role to the female body, as well as the deconstruction of the virgin/whore,
angel/monster dichotomies to which women are circumscribed, things that the
poem ‘‘Revolt from Hymen‘‘ sought to address.

177
MY FATHER'S TRAGEDY
Carlos Bulosan
t was one of those lean years of our lives. Our rice field was destroyed by
I
locusts that came from the
neighboring towns. When the
locusts were gone, we planted string
beans but a fire burned the whole
plantation. My brothers went away
because they got tired of working for
nothing. Mother and my sisters went
from house to house, asking for
something to do, but every family
was plagued with some kind of disaster.
The children walked in the streets looking for the fruit that fell to the
ground from the acacia tree. The men hung on the fence around the market and
watched the meat dealers hungrily. We were all suffering from a lack of proper
food. But the professional gamblers had money. They sat in the fish house at the
station and gave their orders aloud.
The loafers and other bystanders watched them eat boiled rice and fried
fish with silver spoons. They never used forks because the prongs stuck between
their teeth. They always cut their lips and tongues with the knives, so they never
asked for them. If the waiter was new and he put the knives on the table, they
178
looked at each other furtively and slipped them into their pockets. They washed
their hands in one big wooden bowl of water and wiped their mouths with the
leaves of the arbor trees that fell on the ground.
The rainy season was approaching. There were rumors of famine. The
grass did not grow and our carabao became thin. Father's fighting cock, Burick,
was practically the only healthy thing in our household. Its father, Kanaway, had
won a house for us some three years before, and Father had commanded me to
give it the choicest rice. He took the soft-boiled eggs from the plate of my sister
Marcela, who was sick with meningitis that year. He was preparing Burick for
something big, but a great catastrophe came to our town. The peasants and
most of the rich men spent their money on food. They had stopped going to the
cockpit for fear of temptation; if they went at all, they just sat in the gallery and
shouted at the top of their lungs. They went home with their heads down, thinking
of the money they would have won.
It was during this impasse that Father sat every day in our backyard with
his fighting cock. He would not go anywhere. He would not do anything. He just
sat there caressing Burick and exercising his legs. He spat at his hackles and
rubbed them, looking far away with a big dream. When Mother came home with
some food, he went to the granary and sat there till evening. Sometimes, he slept
there with Burick, but at dawn the cock woke him up with its majestic crowing. He
crept into the house and fumbled for the cold rice in the pot under the stove.
Then, he put the cock in the pen and slept on the bench all day.
179
Mother was very patient. But the day came when she kicked him off the
bench. He fell on the floor face down, looked up at her, and then resumed his
sleep. Mother took my sister Francisca with her. They went from house to house
in the neighborhood, pounding rice for some people and hauling drinking water
for others. They came home with their share in a big basket that Mother carried
on her head.
Father was still sleeping on the bench when they arrived. Mother told my
sister to cook some of the rice. She dipped a cup in the jar and splashed the cold
water on Father's face. He jumped up, looked at Mother with anger, and went to
Burick's pen. He gathered the cock in his arms and went down the porch. He sat
on a log in the backyard and started caressing his fighting cock.
Mother went on with her washing. Francisca fed Marcela some boiled rice.
Father was still caressing Burick. Mother was mad at him.
"Is that all you can do?" she shouted at him.
"Why do you say that to me?" Father said, "I'm thinking of some ways to
become rich."
Mother threw a piece of wood at the cock. Father saw her in time.
He ducked and covered the cock with his body. The wood struck him. It
cut a hole at the base of his head. He got up and examined Burick. He acted as
though the cock were the one that was hurt. He looked up at Mother and his face
was pitiful.
"Why don't you see what you are doing?" he said, hugging Burick.
180
"I would like to bring that cock's neck," mother said.
"That's his fortune," I said.
Mother looked sharply at me. "Shut up, idiot!" she said. "You are
becoming more like your father every day."
I watched her eyes move foolishly. I thought she would cry. She tucked
her skirt between her legs and went on with her work. I ran down the ladder and
went to the granary, where Father was treating the wound on his head. I held the
cock for him.
"Take good care of it, son," he said.
"Yes, Sir," I said.
"Go to the river and exercise its legs. Come back right away. We are going
to town."
I ran down the street with the cock, avoiding the pigs and dogs that came
in my way. I plunged into the water in my clothes and swam with Burick. I put
some water in my mouth and blew it into his face. I ran back to our house
slapping the water off my clothes. Father and I went to the cockpit.
It was Sunday, but there were many loafers and gamblers at the place.
There were peasants and teachers. There was a strange man who had a black
fighting cock. He had come from one of the neighboring towns to seek his fortune
in our cockpit.
His name was Burcio. He held our cock above his head and closed one
eye, looking sharply at Burick's eyes. He put it on the ground and bent over it,
181
pressing down the cock's back with his hands. Burcio was testing Burick's
strength. The loafers and gamblers formed a ring around them, watching Burcio's
deft hands expertly moving around Burick.
Father also tested the cock of Burcio. He threw it in the air and watched it
glide smoothly to the ground. He sparred with it. The black cock pecked at his
legs and stopped to crow proudly for the bystanders. Father picked it up and
spread its wings, feeling the tough hide beneath the feathers.
The bystanders knew that a fight was about to be matched. They counted
the money in their pockets without showing it to their neighbors. They felt the
edges of the coins with amazing swiftness and accuracy.
Only a highly magnified amplifier could have recorded the tiny clink of the
coins that fell between deft fingers. The caressing rustle of the paper money was
inaudible. The peasants broke from the ring and hid behind the coconut trees.
They unfolded their handkerchiefs and counted their money. They rolled the
paper money in their hands and returned to the crowd. They waited for the final
decision.
"Shall we make it this coming Sunday?" Burcio asked.
"It's too soon for my Burick," Father said. His hand moved mechanically
into his pocket. But it was empty. He looked around at his cronies.
But two of the peasants caught Father's arm and whispered something to
him. They slipped some money in his hand and pushed him toward Burcio. He
tried to estimate the amount of money in his hand by balling it hard. It was one of
182
his many tricks with money. He knew right away that he had some twenty-peso
bills. A light of hope appeared on his face.
"This coming Sunday's all right," he said.
All at once, the men broke into wild confusion. Some went to Burcio with
their money; others went to Father. They were not bettors, but investors. Their
money would back up the cocks at the cockpit.
In the late afternoon, the fight was arranged. We returned to our house
with some hope. Father put Burick in the pen and told me to go to the fish ponds
across the river. I ran down the road with joy. I found a fish pond under a
camachili tree. It was the favorite haunt of snails and shrimps. Then I went home.
Mother was cooking something good. I smelled it the moment entered the
gate. I rushed into the house and spilled some of the snails on the floor. Mother
was at the stove. She was stirring the ladle in the boiling pot. Father was still
sleeping on the bench. Francisca was feeding Marcela hot soup. I put the snails
and shrimp in a pot and sat on the bench.
Mother was cooking chicken with some bitter melons. I sat wondering
where she got it. I knew that our poultry house in the village was empty. We had
no poultry in town. Father opened his eyes when he heard the bubbling pot.
Mother put the rice on a big wooden platter and set it on the table. She
filled our plates with chicken meat and ginger. Father got up suddenly and went
to the table. Francisca sat by the stove. Father was reaching for the white meat
183
in the platter when Mother slapped his hand away. She was saying grace. Then
we put our legs under the table and started eating.
It was our first taste of chicken in a long time. Father filled his plate twice
and ate very little rice. He usually ate more rice when we had only salted fish and
some leaves of trees. We ate "grass" most of the time. Father tilted his plate and
took the soup noisily, as though he were drinking wine. He put the empty plate
near the pot and asked for some chicken meat.
"It is good chicken," he said.
Mother was very quiet. She put the breast on a plate and told Francisca to
give it to Marcela. She gave me some bitter melons. Father put his hand in the
pot and fished out a drumstick.
"Where did you get this lovely chicken?" he asked.
"Where do you think I got it?" Mother said.
The drumstick fell from his mouth. It rolled into the space between the
bamboo splits and fell on the ground. Our dog snapped it up and ran away.
Father's face broke in great agony. He rushed outside the house. I could hear
him running toward the highway. My sister continued eating but my appetite was
gone.
"What are you doing, Son?" Mother said. "Eat your chicken.”
184
185
LITERARY ANALYSIS
My Father’s Tragedy
Carlos Bulosan
Bulosan described his father's losing battle to keep the small parcel of
land that supported their large family, and the setbacks that continually dashed
any hopes for improving their lives. In his vivid portrayal of his family's poverty,
Bulosan captured the forces that ultimately drove him to seek a better life to the
United States. The story, written in first person, starts with a situation in which
many people do not have enough food to eat that drives farm-dependent families
to poverty and hunger, including that of the narrator, the son.
His father was in a hopeless situation because no matter how much he
tried to retrieve their family from poverty,series of unfortunate events would
happen. His father focused his attention to his fighting cock hoping for some luck
to save them from poverty. He's constantly exercising his fighting cock and
dreaming his time away. The son and his father went home with some hope. The
father ate more than he usually eat then asked his wife where he got the white
meat because the poultry house in the village is empty. My Father's tragedy is
story about bad luck and bad attitude. I think the story is a good start to learning
more about Carlos Bulosan, a satirist, poet, fictionist, essayist, born on
Pangasinan, Philippines.
186
21st Century Philippine Literature
A Tropical Winter’s Tale

Charlson Ong
It was winter when he came

for her. The last winter of her
life. The cold air stung her
face. Her throat was dry and
her breasts swollen. She felt
her innards turn to stone and
she was
suddenly heavy with fear and
longing. The man wore layers
of animal fur-some strange
animal
187
the girl had never seen. They

called him Bei Xiong-
northern bear-because he was
said to have
originated from some
northern province where it
snowed in winter. The girl Li
Hua had never
seen snow.
She thought he must have
another name, a real name,
but it didn't matter. His head
was
188
made of stone, his eyes were

red, and when he turned to
her in the half-light the girl
thought for a
moment that it was indeed
some unknown animal
standing before her. Her heart
would have
leapt were it not frozen.
The girl had been waiting for
the stranger at the outhouse.
The night earlier Bei Xiong
had come with two sacks of
rice, a goat and a jug of rice
189
wine which he gave to the

people Li
Hua had always believed
were her parents. They told
her, however, that she was
bought off some
sick peasant as an act of
Buddhist charity. But when
she grew older the girl was
too frail to work
the fields, too clumsy to care
for the young ones, had no
talent for cooking or
embroidery, and
190
could never be married off to

a well-off family
The last winter of her life. The cold air stung her face. The man wore
layers of animal fur-some strange animal the girl had never seen. They called
him Bei Xiong-northern bear-because he was said to have originated from some
northern province where it snowed in winter. The girl Li Hua had never seen
snow. His head was made of stone, his eyes were red, and when he turned to
her in the half-light the girl thought for a moment that it was indeed some
unknown animal standing before her. The girl had been waiting for the stranger
at the outhouse. The night earlier Bei Xionghad come with two sacks of rice, a
goat and a jug of rice wine which he gave to the people LiHua had always
believed were her parents. But when she grew older the girl was too frail to work
the fields, too clumsy to care for the young ones, had no talent for cooking or
embroidery, and could never be married off to a well-off family But Bei Xiong had
seen the girl buying rice wine in town one day and decided to have her. And if
she was yet a girl, he would be patient and wait for her to blossom.
He needed a strong woman that he could take away with him to another
land, across the seas where he would seek his new fortune after debt and
pestilence had wiped out his crop and remaining kin. Bei Xiong had asked for the
girl and the old couple had consented though he was far from rich. The girl had
no dowry and was worth far less than the food she consumed. The old woman
191
gave Li Hua some of her own clothes, a bowl of steaming broth, some sweet
potatoes, and told her to wait for her man at the outhouse. The old man berated
Li Hua for being lazy and admonished her to thank the gods for not having dealt
her a worse fate. When the stranger spoke rocks grated against his throat but Li
Hua knew he meant for her to follow him. Rain seeped through the girl's cotton
clothes and her shoulders began to burn. For a moment Li Hua felt an unearthly
comfort and the fear flew from her body as ghosts of dead sparrows. She had
always had an affinity with winter.
The woman thought at once of the ground meat and foodstuff in the
refrigerator. It was six thirty; the girls were preparing fresh dumplings for the day.
Since the new girl was hired-Anna, yes, that is her name she remembered, these
huanna names continue to baffle her after forty years of calling them out-work
seemed to progress faster. The woman remembered how she had fed far more
customers working in tandem with their old cook ah Beng-who had since left
them-but that was many years ago. The woman hurried down the stairs leading
to the kitchen as she did every morning. Lao,‘‘ the girls greeted her as always. It
took the woman a while to recognize the name. It often sounded strange to her-
especially when spoken by a huanna tongue-even after many decades of being
so addressed.
When she first heard Ah Beng greet her as he met them at the
wharf-‘‘Lao tai tai‘‘-he seemed tobe cursing. It took the woman a while to realize
that that was Bei Xiong's true name-Lao. Old Lao, most people called him. The
192
woman had never called him. Though the difference between their ages left little
doubt among the lannang -people from the old country-that she was not old Lao's
first wife, Ah Beng continued to address her accordingly. Later, when the fact of
his distant affinity with Lao was established, the thirtyish cook would refer to the
woman as ‘‘sister-in-law. ‘‘ The rest of Chinatown simply called her Li Hua, if at
all. Only the huanna greeted her as‘‘Mrs. Lao.

193
LITERARY ANALYSIS
The Tropical Winter’s Tale

Charlson Ong
The first part describes a wintry scene, possibly in a rural or remote
location, where Li Hua encounters a man named Bei Xiong. The second part
shifts to a different setting, a kitchen or restaurant where the woman, known as
Lao tai tai or Mrs. The mention of ‘‘huanna names‘‘ and the distinction between
different naming conventions suggests cultural differences between the
characters. It hints at a theme of identity and the challenges faced by individuals
living between different cultural worlds.
Additionally, the mention of Lao tai tai`s connection to Lao and her
interactions with Ah Beng hint at intricate familial or social dynamics. The
mention of debt, pestilence, and the need for Bei Xiong to seek a new fortune
implies a struggle against adverse circumstances. A complete analysis would
require a deeper understanding of the characters, their motivations, and the
overarching themes and plot of the story.

194
Morning, Puerto del Mar, Isla Guimaras

John Iremil Teodoro
Always, there is a hidden cove
in my heart
where all year it is summer
and the rain visits
only when I am desolate.
But this morning,
I am truly at the sea,
swimming by myself in waters
whose lines are clean as a poem.
Perhaps, heaven’s jetway is a shore
with sand as fine and white as the long dresses of angels.
Perhaps the chorus of their voices
is cool and pure as the lapping tongues
of the smallest waves.
How blissful it would be to take my last breath
reclining in the arms of the sea,
wrapped in the warm rays
of a just-risen sun.
But I have many more poems
that I must write.

195
Poems of love.
Love like the sea,
deep and color-changing,
custodian of such mysteries.

196
LITERARY ANALYSIS
Morning, Puerto del Mar, Isla Guimaras

John Iremil Teodoro
The poem immerses the reader in the beauty and tranquility of the natural
world.
The description of a hidden cove, clean waters, and a fine white sand
beach evokes a sense of peace and serenity.
The poet uses rich and evocative imagery to engage the reader`s senses.
The reader can visualize the clean lines of the waters, imagine the fine
white sand, and feel the coolness and purity of the lapping waves.
This imagery creates a vivid and sensory experience, enhancing the
overall atmosphere of the poem.
The speaker compares love to the sea, describing it as deep and color-
changing, suggesting its vastness and ever-changing nature.
The language used is lyrical, with a focus on capturing the beauty of
nature and the emotional depth of love.
Overall, ‘‘Morning, Puerto del Mar, Isla Guimaras‘‘ is a poem that
celebrates the beauty of nature and explores themes of love and mortality.
Through vivid imagery and contemplative reflections, the poem invites
readers to experience a moment of serenity and contemplate the mysteries of life
and love.
197
Bonsai
Edith Tiempo
All that I love
I fold over once
And once again
And keep in a box
Or a slit in a hollow post
Or in my shoe.
All that I love?
Why, yes, but for the moment-
And for all time, both.
Something that folds and keeps easy,
Son’s note or Dad’s one gaudy tie,
A roto picture of a queen,
A blue Indian shawl, even
A money bill.
It’s utter sublimation,
A feat, this heart’s control
Moment to moment
To scale all love down

198
To a cupped hand’s size
Till seashells are broken pieces
From God’s own bright teeth,
And life and love are real
Things you can run and
Breathless hand over
To the merest child.

199
LITERARY ANALYSIS
Bonsai
Edith Tiempo
The poem "Bonsai" by Edith Tiempo is essentially a love poem. It will be
difficult to understand the poem as it is at first, but as one reads this poetry more,
the more one will understand what this poem or the poet is attempting to portray
to its readers. This poem discusses how one might capture such large thoughts
and compress them into something small enough to pass from one person to
another. This poem is about a mother's love, which is now being passed on or
handed over to her daughter. One of the literary images displayed in the poem
was the line, "All that I love?" Yes, for the time being--and for all time—both.
This stanza is an oxymoron, which is described in the dictionary as a
figure of speech in which seemingly contradictory terms exist in conjunction. In
this section, the poet is teaching its readers that love can only be for a moment or
temporary since hatred might come and destroy love, but love can also be
forever or eternal. The "To a cupped hand's size" literary picture was also
depicted in the poem. This section of the poem informs readers that love is
something that can be given and received. This demonstrates how the author
believes that love is something we both ask for and give away. Having said that,
this stanza also demonstrates that love can be reduced to something
insignificant.
200
One might question or ask himself why the author chose "Bonsai" as the
title because the dictionary defines it as an attractive tree or shrub planted in a
pot and artificially prevented from attaining its usual size. This poem, Bonsai, is
about how love is simplified and reduced so that one can give it out to
others.Since this love is now compacted or shrunk down to something small that
can be given, it is much like a bonsai, which is a simplified version of a huge
andenormous tree that could be given away and handedover to others. As a
result, this love is now being passed down through generations.

201
Monsson Madness
Leo Almero
The tenderest words come tucked in a furoshiki
you got in Osaka on your birthday, for my birthday
a couple of weeks on. Unseen and unuttered
as they fold into thirteen different strokes
for a breath: ai. I used to think you had no language
for this. That you had to carve your heart out
and lay it on beat by beat with the repetition
of dyed kabuki among faded kamon in blue fabric:
that you are, you say, the parasol covering me
from the gust of dust and heat; the sheath, the long
blade, the fan perhaps. Look, these are crests
of samurai clas forming families. Almost
overnight, I allowed myself to breathe from all
these. It is easy enough to say that I miscalculated
that the chrysanthemum tells us to open up, take in
every single molecule of our being. It unfolds, petal
by petal. And folds back to its chest at sunset.
For a month after we stopped talking, the rain was
relentless. I saw you later on in the bar where we
once began. We hugged as if to close all doors to us
and our questions. There among the horde, we dis-

202
remembered the words you whispered to your gift.
LITERARY ANALYSIS
Monsoon Madness
Leo Almero
The poem starts with a striking vision of sweet phrases concealed behind
a furoshiki, a traditional Japanese wrapping cloth. On their birthday in Osaka, the
speaker received this gift, and they express amazement that the words were
unseen and unspoken. The folding of the cloth and the thirteen various strokes
used to construct the word "ai" (Japanese for "love") represent the complexities
and delicacy of the emotions involved.
The speaker considers their previous assumption that the recipient of the
gift lacked the words to communicate such emotions, implying a lack of verbal
communication or difficulties expressing emotions. Instead, acts and symbols
such as cutting one's heart and repeating dyed kabuki and faded kamon (family
crests) on blue fabric are implied.
The poem delves into the recipient's figurative position in the speaker's
life: a parasol that protects from dust and heat, a sheath, a long blade, and a fan.
These photos create feelings of safety, strength, and beauty. The idea of samurai
crests establishing families implies a bond between the two people that extends
beyond casual camaraderie.
The speaker admits to a blunder, potentially referring to their
misunderstanding of the recipient's love language. They mention the
chrysanthemum, a flower that represents openness and acceptance of one's

203
complete self. It grows petal by petal, implying a slow process of revealing
oneself and accepting vulnerability. However, at sunset, it folds back, signifying a
retreat or closure.
The poem briefly mentions a period of quiet between the speaker and the
recipient during which the rain fell nonstop. This could represent a period of
emotional turmoil or separation. They eventually run into each other in a pub, and
their embrace marks the end of their romance. They opt to forget or disremember
the words whispered with the gift, maybe reflecting a wish to move on without
focusing on the past.
Overall, the poem explores the difficulties of love, nonverbal
communication, and the search for understanding and closure in a relationship
through rich imagery, symbolism, and personal thoughts. It conveys longing, the
passage of time, and the importance of shared experiences and ties.

204
REFERENCES
https://www.theguardian.com/mythical-creatures/ng-interactive/2019/aug/26/most-
legendary-mythical-creatures-history
https://pdfcoffee.com/ang-pinakahuling-kuwento-ni-hulidocx-pdf-free.html
https://brylits.tripod.com/repthex.html
http://bihirangpanitikangpilipino.blogspot.com/2013/08/geyluv-by-honorio-bartolome-
de-dios.html
https://www.studocu.com/ph/document/aurora-pioneers-memorial-college/philippine-
literature/literature-after-edsa-short-stories-compress/35621724
https://www.slideshare.net/JadedeGuzman/region-1-philippine-literature
https://www.supersummary.com/america-is-in-the-heart/summary/
https://helpinghandforstudents.wordpress.com/2014/01/24/nalpay-na-namnama-by-
leona-florentino/
https://readalittlepoetry.com/2005/08/31/revolt-from-hymen-by-angela-manalang-
gloria/
http://filipinoliterature.blogspot.com/2021/07/my-fathers-tragedy.html
http://accipe-sume-cape.blogspot.com/2013/07/morning-puerto-del-mar-isla-
guimaras.html
https://readalittlepoetry.com/2010/03/31/bonsai-by-edith-tiempo/
205
CURRICULUM VITAE
Name: Jessa Jane Pacas
Age: 20 years old
Birthday: April 17, 2003
Gender: Female
Temporary Address: Miputak, Dipolog City
Address: Mamawan Gutalac, Zamboanga del
Norte
Place of Birth: Mamawan, Gutalac Z.N
Parents Names:
Mother- Annie B. Pacas
Father- Romualdo P. Amplayo
Siblings: Arnel Jhon P. Jagorin

Ed Jhon P. Jagorin
Contact Number: 09632303078
Email Address: jjpacas17@gmail.com
Educational attainment:
Elementary (2000 - 2015): Gutalac Central School
Secondary (Junior High School)
(2015 – 2019): Gutalac, National High School
(Senior High School)
(2019 - 2021): Gutalac, National High School

206
(2018-2019): Andres Bonifacio College
College (Undergraduate)
(2021 - 2023): Andres Bonifacio College

Philippine Literature Anthology

Uploaded by

Document Information

Original Description:

Copyright

Available Formats

Share this document

Share or Embed Document

Sharing Options

Did you find this document useful?

Is this content inappropriate?

Copyright:

Available Formats

Philippine Literature Anthology

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

AN UNDERGRADUATE NARRATIVE COMPILATION OF SELECTED

LITERARY PIECES WITH A CORRESPONDING

TIMELINE IN ENGLISH LITERATURE

An Undergraduate Narrative Compilation

Presented to the Faculty

of the School of Education

Andres Bonifacio College

of the Requirements for the Subject in

LITERATURE 223 – SURVEY OF PHILIPPINE LITERATURE IN ENGLISH

JESSA JANE PACAS

In partial fulfillment of the requirements for the subject LITERATURE 223

– SURVEY OF PHILIPPINE LITERATURE IN ENGLISH, this paper entitled,

“AN UNDERGRADUATE NARRATIVE COMPILATION OF SELECTED

LITERARY PIECES WITH A CORRESPONDING TIMELINE IN ENGLISH

LITERATURE” has been prepared and submitted by JOCEL ELLEN-MAY L.

ORILLA, is hereby recommended for acceptance and approval.

JAMES O. BAES, LPT, M.Ed, MAEM

Approved and accepted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the

subjects AN UNDERGRADUATE NARRATIVE COMPILATION OF SELECTED

LITERARY PIECES WITH A CORRESPONDING TIMELINE IN ENGLISH

LITERATURE. With a final rating of .

SHIRLEY G. BELLINO, Ed.D

I would like to extend my sincere gratitude to everyone who gave their

time, expertise, and resources to make this narrative compilation of chosen

literary works a reality.

To my supportive mother, father, aunt, uncle, and grandparents, who have

addition to spiritual guidance. I'm very grateful.

guidance was really beneficial in finishing this assignment. I sincerely appreciate

work on this paper and make it viable.

I dedicate this book to my loving family, especially to my parents who gave

much of themselves to meet all of my requirements.

To my friends and classmates who are always willing to lend a hand,

I also dedicate this to my professor in appreciation of all that he has done

to help us make this book possible.

Background of the Study

Folk Literary Genres

Biag ni Lam-Ang 14-17

Inadarapata and Sulayman 20-25

Literature under the Spanish Colonization

Noli Me Tangere 32-34

Urbana at Felisa 43-44

To My Fellow Children 46-47

Literature under the American Colonization

Dead Stars 53-78

Literature Under the Republic

The Woman who had Two Navels 98-105

Scent of Apples 108-117

The Bamboo Dancers 120-122

The Day the Dancers Came 125-126

Literature after EDSA Revolution

The Very Last Story of Huli 129-132

The Execution 134-137

Among the Disappeared 146-151

Literature of the Regions

America is in the Heart 154-156

Blasted Hopes (Nalpay A Namnama) 159-160

Revolt From Hymen 162

MY FATHERS’S TRAGEDY 164-171

21st Century Philippine Literature

A Tropical Winter’s Tale 173-175

Morning, Puerto del Mar, Isla Guimaras 177-178

Monsoon Madness 184

CURRICULUM VITAE 188-189