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DIWA Senior High School Series:
21st Century Literature from the Philippines and the World (Second Edition)
e-Module
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Author
Second Edition
CHEENO MARLO M. SAYUNO holds a master’s degree in communication arts from the University of the Philippines – Los
Baños (UPLB) and a bachelor’s degree in mass communication, cum laude, from Cavite State University. He is presently
an assistant professor in the Department of Humanities at the UPLB, while working toward earning his doctor’s degree
in communication at the UP Diliman. Mr. Sayuno is a recipient of the Carlos Palanca Memorial Awards for Literature in
2013 and 2017 for his short stories for children “The Magic Bahag,” which is his first published book of the same title
under Lampara Publishing House, and “Si Tiya Salome,” respectively. He is also the sole awardee (honorable mention) of
the Philippine Board on Books for Young People’s Salanga Prize in 2015 for “The Missing Blanket,” published by Adarna
House. He is a writing fellow in the Writers and Illustrators Retreat of Asian Festival of Children’s Content sponsored by
the Singapore government, the UP National Writers’ Workshop, the Cordillera Creative Writing Workshop 2014, Ricky Lee
Scriptwriting Masterclass, TV5 Kwentong Komedi Scriptwriting Workshop, the UST J. Elizalde Navarro National Workshop
in Criticism on the Arts and Humanities, and the DLSU KRITIKA National Workshop on Art and Cultural Criticism, among
others. His research presentations and publications center on children’s literature, child studies, discourse analysis,
communication research, and dance.
First Edition
RINA GARCIA CHUA completed her master’s degree in Language and Literature (major in Literature) from the De La Salle
University (DLSU) – Manila. She was awarded a gold medal for outstanding thesis. She obtained her bachelor’s degree in
Secondary Education (major in English) from the University of Santo Tomas (UST), where she is currently affiliated with
the university’s Literature Department. She has been a fellow in several national writing workshops, has been published
in journals and newspapers (Dapitan, Kritika Kultura, Panorama, Philippine Daily Inquirer, Manila Bulletin), and was awarded
the International Membership Grant by the Association for the Study of Literature and the Environment – USA. Aside
from writing textbooks, short stories, and magazine articles for Diwa Learning Systems Inc., she has completed the first
anthology of Philippine ecopoetry entitled “Sustaining the Archipelago.”
Reviewer
GUILLERMO MIGUEL O. OCHOA previously taught literature in the University of Santo Tomas and the Philippine Normal
University (PNU) – Manila. Currently, he is a full-time faculty member at the Rizal Technological University, handling
literature and English language teaching courses. He holds a bachelor’s degree in Secondary Education (major in English)
and a master’s degree in Education (with specialization in Literature – English Stream), which he both finished at PNU.
Mr. Ochoa has lectured and conducted seminar-workshops on classroom management, professional development for
teachers, teacher training, literary theory and criticism, teaching of poetry, literature and postmodernism, assessment
and instruction of literature, teaching of grammar, campus journalism, technology use in the classroom, teaching English
as a second or a foreign language, teaching strategies as recommended by the K to 12 curriculum of the Department of
Education, research, and outcomes-based education. At present, he is pursuing his doctorate in Literature.
This book is produced by an academic publisher whose quality management system is cered to ISO 9001.
Preface
Today, our country faces various challenges not only in politics and safety but also in the kind of
information circulating in virtual spaces. The internet creates avenues for creation and consumption of this
information, and creators become consumers, just as consumers become creators themselves. Blogging and
journalism face in combat, and the responsibility of writing becomes fluid; the thin lines separating genres
and forms from credibility blur in the murky waters of propaganda. The act of writing was supposed to reach
new heights with the advent of new media. But what happens is that the life of writing is compromised
because the very act of transforming stories into written masterpieces is challenged by manipulating facts
and manufacturing narratives that reflect multiple realities, and only some of these are truly reflective of the
human experience.
But why do people write stories? Writers of the past and present would tell stories of the human
experience because these stories, may they be fiction or creative nonfiction, are reflective of cultures and
traditions. Through these written works, people get to know their ancestors at a deeper level. In the process,
readers learn from the victories and failures of the past to create a promising future. Through literature, readers
get to experience past lives and understand the joy and beauty of various human emotions—emotions that
transcend across eras and races, cultures and genders, and geographies and moments in time. It is through
literature that we develop an appreciation of the past so that we can live better lives at present. Literature
keeps the human side of us intact.
This textbook, Diwa Senior High School Series: 21st Century Literature from the Philippines and the World
(Second Edition), attempts to bridge the gap between the contemporary literary scene and the struggles of
today’s times in understanding written texts in new media platforms. Through a survey of the many literatures
in the country and its regions, as well as the various clusters in the world literary scene, the goal of this textbook
is to awaken the awareness of young readers. When you encounter opportune moments to read with the aid
of technological advancements, you become more aware of how to interact with various texts and how to
combat the rise of manipulative and propaganda messages.
Republic Act 10533 of the Enhanced Basic Education Act of 2013 introduced the K to 12 program, which
included the senior high school levels for all learners. This program includes providing opportunities for senior
high school students to specialize in different tracks, depending on their interests. On one hand, literature is
one track that you can pursue. By studying and mastering literature, you become a learner not only of various
reading selections that explore humanistic experiences but also someone who can become a writer and a
purveyor of culture and values through various platforms. On the other hand, studying literature, regardless
of the track you pursue, grounds you as a learner. Through literature, you learn and you grow to be a better
individual who is ready to take on any challenge.
Each module in the Diwa Senior High School Series: 21st Century Literature from the Philippines and the World
(Second Edition) introduces you not only to literary pieces that you can enjoy reading but also to theories and
concepts that can help you understand literature from various critical perspectives. You can then improve
your critical thinking skills and also incorporate social and cultural knowledge into your reading, something
that can be very helpful in the future. Simply put, reading can be both fun and critical.
Unit I is a primer of the various literary genres and forms that are common in the country. By exploring
the historical, literary, and creative landscape of Philippine literature, you have a fantastic opportunity to get
to know our country deeper. In reading these texts, you are given the chance to appreciate the works based
on your own, for these contemporary and timely literary pieces are meant to be interpreted individually. You
have the power to process the texts based on your own biases, experiences, and perspectives.
In Unit II, your sojourn to world literature starts—you go beyond the comforts of our own country and
break boundaries as you look into how the people of the world write about themselves. With literary selections
from both seasoned and up-and-coming writers from across the globe, you are given varying perspectives of
different but equally colorful cultures. Furthermore, these are guided with theoretical perspectives that can
offer unique examinations of literary texts, all toward information literacy and global awareness.
Literature is part of the human experience. By reading literature, you, dear young readers, become
empowered, morally upright, and well-informed citizens of the world.
The Author
Table of Contents
Unit I 21st Century Philippine Literature from the Regions
Module 1 Mapping Our Literary Past, Present, and Future .......................................................3

Module 2 Poetry of the Archipelago.......................................................................................... 14
Module 3 The Landscape of Philippine Fiction ........................................................................24
Module 4 In an Ocean of Emotions: Philippine Drama ...........................................................52
Module 5 Archipelagic Life, or Creative Nonction .................................................................72
Module 6 Remapping of Philippine Literature through Criticism .......................................... 90
Module 7 Looking Beyond: The Future of Philippine Literature ........................................... 114
Module 8 Finding the Literary Space within You ................................................................... 128
Culminating Output ....................................................................................................................... 132
Quarter Challenge...........................................................................................................................133
Unit II 21st Century Literature from the World
Module 9 A Rediscovery of the Literary World ...................................................................... 139

Module 10 Charting Our Own Paths in Southeast Asia............................................................ 164
Module 11 The Roots of East Asia ............................................................................................ 175
Module 12 Exploring South Asia and Western Asia ................................................................. 193
Module 13 Delving Deep into the Anglo-American Frontier .................................................. 202
Module 14 Traversing Europe and Its Intricacies ................................................................... 216
Module 15 The Magic of Latin America ....................................................................................234
Module 16 Deep into Africa ..................................................................................................... 246
Module 17 The Atlas of World Literature .................................................................................255
Culminating Output ....................................................................................................................... 261
Quarter Challenge...........................................................................................................................262
Bibliography .................................................................................................. 267

Unit
21st Century Philippine Literature
I from the Regions
While contemplating on the country’s history in 1887 shortly after completing Noli Me
Tangere, our national hero, Jose Rizal, returned to the old Filipino proverb: “Those who do not
know how to look back at where they came from will never get to their destination.” Literature
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such as history, science, values, and the languages. This is because the literary selections in
this unit have been carefully chosen to encapsulate the message of Rizal’s famous quotation:
looking back to move forward. Through the literary texts that you will be reading in this unit,
you will get to know yourself, the society you live in, and the world you will be moving in a lot
better. The knowledge you will unearth and explore from the poems, stories, plays, and essays
in this unit will teach you how to be a better Filipino—as a holistic human being and, more
importantly, as an agent of compassion to the rest of the world. This way, you will use the past
that literature has narrated for you as the main weapon for your successful future.
This unit begins with a glimpse of our precolonial literary heritage. Here, you will learn
that before the Spanish had colonized the country, Filipinos already enjoyed a variety of
literature such as proverbs, riddles, songs, tales, and, of course, epics. These changed during
the Spanish colonization as literature became more religious and God-centered. You should
be well acquainted with the epic of Hinilawod from the Visayas region and a retelling of the
legend of Mariang Makiling by the country’s very own national hero. These will help you
understand just how rich our local indigenous literature is and how it speaks well about the
life that was lived before here in this archipelago. The other subsequent modules in this unit
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the uniqueness and nuances of each genre as written and interpreted by a local writer. Aside
from this, they also invite you to open your mind to innovate these literary canons into genres
that our local literature has never seen before. Maybe you are the start of something new, dear
student, and hopefully, these stories of your life will inspire you to exercise your creativity and
make your mark in the world. Remember what Rizal had proven so many times before in his
short but heroic life: the pen will always be mightier than any other weapon, even the sword.
Learning Outcomes for the Unit
Understand and appreciate the elements and contexts of 21st century Philippine
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Demonstrate understanding and appreciation of 21st century Philippine literature from
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• A written close analysis and critical interpretation of a literary text in terms of form
and theme, with a description of its context derived from research
• An adaptation of a text into other creative forms using multimedia
2 21st Century Literature from the Philippines and the World (Second Edition)
Module
1 Mapping Our Literary Past, Present, and Future
At the end of this module, I can:

1. Identify the geographic, linguistic, and ethnic dimensions of Philippine literary history
from the precolonial era to the contemporary.
2. Value the contributions of local writers to the development of regional literary traditions.
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genres or periods citing their elements, structures, and traditions.
4. Explain the literary, biographical, linguistic, and sociocultural contexts, and discuss
how they enhance the text’s meaning and enrich my understanding.
Philippine Precolonial Literature

Before the Philippines was colonized, it was already brimming Big Idea
with a rich tradition of oral literature. Early Filipinos weaved
The precolonial literatures
together countless myths and legends to explain certain phenomena of the Philippines were abundant
in life. They had stories on how the world was created—why there with myths and legends. These
is a sun in the morning and the moon at night, how a mountain was were used to explain particular
formed, why there are earthquakes, and other life events. However, phenomena in daily life, such as
because paper was not invented yet, many of these tales were not natural occurrences, ritualistic
behaviors, or observations about
preserved and have vanished from local knowledge. Most of what society and culture.
have been transcribed now are taken from oral literature, which
means that these stories have been passed on from one generation
to another. Most of that which survived are epics and folklores. Here are their descriptions and other
forms of literature that were passed on by the early Filipinos to today’s generation.
• Proverbs are practical observations and philosophy of everyday life that are written usually
in a rhyming scheme. It is obviously meant to entertain while teaching basic skills in surviving
local life. In Filipino, these are called salawikain. Here are some examples:
Kung ano ang puno, siya ang bunga.
 :KDWHYHUWKHWUHHVRLVWKHIUXLW
Kung walang tiyaga, walang nilaga.
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• RiddlesDUHOLNHSURYHUEVZLWKRQHPDLQGLɣHUHQFHWKH\GHPDQGDQDQVZHUDQGDUHXVHGWR
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used in a battle of wits, where locals young and old join and/or watch to see who is the smartest.
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something laughable, but in reality, the answer is more serious than expected. Can you guess
the answers to these riddles?
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Sa araw ay bungbong, sa gabi ay dahon.5ROOLQWKHPRUQLQJOHDILQWKHDIWHUQRRQ
21st Century Philippine Literature from the Regions 3

• Folksongs are beautiful songs that are informal expressions of our ancestors’ experiences
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lullabies, harvests, funerals, and others.
• Tales are stories of origin for certain places, their names, and their creation. These are also
known as myths and legends. They usually are used to explain certain events or phenomena
in our ancestors’ lives that cannot be explained by the limited practical kind of science they
knew back then. Some examples are the origin of mountains such as Mount Makiling or Mount
Arayat, or legends of great heroes like Bernardo Carpio.
• Epics are long-winded poems about a hero and his adventures and misadventures. It usually
tells of a male hero who is born with all the pleasing qualities that your ancestors like in a person
and who also has superhuman capabilities. This male hero is also paired with a beautiful young
maiden, whom he will fall in love with and will usually have to go to battle for. Sometimes,
supernatural elements are also introduced to show the strength of the hero and his capabilities.
One of the best epics of the Philippines comes from Negros, which is the Hinilawod. Read its
rich story in the following activity.
Reflect Upon
What is the relevance of studying precolonial forms of literature?
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
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Beyond Walls 1.1 Read and Answer
The following story is an epic from Central Panay. Read the story and answer the questions that
follow.
The Hinilawod
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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
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Alunsina and Paubari escaped harm through the assistance of Suklang Malayon, the goddess
and guardian of happy homes and sister of Alunsina, who learned of the evil plot and warned the
two so they were able to seek refuge on higher ground.
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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
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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 VZRUG IRU KH KHDUG RI D SODFH FDOOHG +DQGXJ ZKHUH D EHDXWLIXO PDLGHQ QDPHG
Angoy Ginbitinan lived.
Fig. 1.1. A scene from the play entitled, “Hinilawod,” at the LUCE Auditorium
in Dumaguete City last 1–3 July 2010.
Source: https://hinilawod.files.wordpress.com/2010/03/hinilawod-004.jpg
The journey took several days. He walked across plains and valleys, climbed up mountains
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killed the monster and to prove his feat he brought to Angoy Ginbitinan’s father the monster’s tail.
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
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gave up and allowed him to continue.
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EODFNERDWRQZKLFKKHVDLOHGDFURVVWKH
seas for many months, went across the region of the clouds, and passed the land of stones until
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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.
7KHFKDOOHQJHZDVDFFHSWHGDQGWKH\VWDUWHG¿JKWLQJ/DEDZ'RQJJRQVXEPHUJHG6DUDJQD\DQ
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DPXOHWDQGHYHQWXDOO\KHJDYHXS
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
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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.
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.
,QWKLVSODFHZDVDULGJHFDOOHG7DODJDV.XWLQJWDQJZKHUHDVHGXFWLYHVRUFHUHVVQDPHG3LJDQXQOLYHG
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.
2QH HYHQLQJ DW GLQQHU WLPH %X\RQJ 0DWDQD\RQ WKUHZ VHYHQ VOLFHV RI JLQJHU LQWR WKH ¿UH :KHQ
Piganun 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, which 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 village. Many men
tried their luck but no one so far was able to even move the stone.
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mountain. The datu kept his word and Humadapnon married his daughter. During the wedding
feast, Humadapnon heard 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
+XPDGDSQRQ¶V VWUHQJWK DQG VNLOO 7KH ¿JKW HQGHG ZKHQ %X\RQJ 0DNDEDJWLQJ VXUUHQGHUHG DQG
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 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
PDJLFGDJJHU DQGVWDEEHG8\XWDQJ XQGHUWKH DUPSLW8\XWDQJFULHG RXWVRORXG WKDWWKHULGJH
ZKHUHWKH\ZHUH¿JKWLQJEURNHLQWRWZRDQGWKHUHZDVDQHDUWKTXDNH+DOIRIWKHULGJHEHFDPHWKH
LVODQGRI%XJODV1HJURVDQGWKHRWKHUEHFDPHWKHLVODQGRI3DQD\
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
WKHLU KRQRU $IWHUWKH FHOHEUDWLRQ WKH WKUHH EURWKHUV OHIWIRU GLɣHUHQW SDUWV RI WKH ZRUOG/DEDZ
Donggon went to the north, Humadapnon went south, Dumalapdap to the west and Datu Paubari
remained in the east.

Guide Questions:
1. Why did the council of the gods called by Maklium-sa-t’wan decide to destroy Halawod by
ÀRRG"
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________
2. Who are the three sons of Alunsina and Datu Paubari?
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________
3. What did Humadapnon do to win the hand of the daughter of Datu Umbaw Pinaumbaw in
marriage?
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________
Although few, the surviving stories of your ancestors prove that the Philippines was a lively nation
with a rich indigenous heritage. These tales, such as the Hinilawod, tell more than just stories of brave
men and magical creatures; they also illustrate the history of the country and the formation of its values
system. You see in the story the values of bravery, brotherhood, friendship, and communal respect
among the characters. You see also the way society worked back then, which is important when you
think about the society you live in right now. How do these values shape you as a Filipino today? How
much has changed from the way Filipinos lived before and the way we live now? The surviving records
of your precolonial literature can tell you not only about life in the past, but also in the present.
Big Idea
Epics have the special element of hyperbole. Filipinos love listening to stories of high fantasy
and adventure. When you were younger, you were probably fond of fantasy stories told by your
parents and teachers or from the ones you watch on TV.
What Have I Learned So Far?
1. What values have you picked up from “The Hinilawod”? Are these values applicable to your
experience today? Why or why not?
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
2. What can you say about the nature of precolonial literature in the Philippines? What are its
characteristics?
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
Spanish Colonial Philippine Literature

When the Spaniards came, there was an immediate shift Big Idea
on the focus of literature. It became centered on the Christian The Spanish influence is
faith, and the stories about natural phenomena suddenly became evident not only in our literature
all about the lives of saints and other religious hymns. Slowly, but also in our language, tradition,
Philippine literature started to emulate the traditional Spanish religion, food, music, dance, and
many more aspects. Because of the
ways of themes and forms in writing, including the repetitive plots many years of Spanish colonization,
and obvious shadowy characters. Despite these changes, Filipinos the remnants of the Spanish regime
still found a way to make Spanish literature their own, as shown still run in our veins.
through these common kinds:
• Corrido is a legendary religious narrative form that usually details the lives of saints or the
history of a tradition.
• Awit is a chivalric poem about a hero, usually about a saint. It is also usually sung and used in
religious processions.
• Pasyon is a narrative poem about the life of Jesus Christ, beginning from his birth and up to
his death. This is usually sung during the Lenten season. Many women were trained before to
perform the Pasyon. Nowadays, it is sung by seasoned performers in churches nationwide.
• CenaculoLVWKHGUDPDWL]DWLRQRIWKHSDVVLRQRI&KULVW,WKLJKOLJKWVWKHVXɣHULQJVDQGGHDWK
of Jesus Christ, and it is also done during the Lenten season. A good example is the San Pedro
Cutud Lenten Rites in San Fernando, Pampanga, where fervent Catholics volunteer themselves
WREHDFWXDOO\QDLOHGWRWKHFURVVWRUHHQDFWWKHVXɣHULQJRI-HVXV&KULVW
• Moro-moro or Comedia de Capa y Espada is a blood-and-thunder melodrama depicting the
FRQÀLFW RI&KULVWLDQV DQG 0XVOLPV ,W LVXVXDOO\ DERXW EDWWOHV WR WKHGHDWK DQG WKH SURRIVRI
faith.

• CarilloLVDSOD\WKDWXVHVVKDGRZVDVLWVPDLQVSHFWDFOH7KLVLVFUHDWHGE\DQLPDWLQJ¿JXUHV
made from cardboard, which are projected onto a white screen.
Beyond Walls 1.2 Go Online
Track: Academic
Have you ever participated in Pasyon? Does your city or township have its own rituals during
Pasyon? Go online and look for unique rituals that are done during the Holy Week by people all over
the world. Compare what you have found out to what is being done in your own city or town during
this week. Share what you have found online with the rest of the class.
• Tibag is the dramatic reenactment of St. Helena’s search for the Holy Cross. St. Helena
LVWKH PRWKHURI &RQVWDQWLQHDQG LVRIWHQWLPHVFUHGLWHG WRKDYH LQÀXHQFHGKHU VRQWREH WKH
great Christian leader he is known for today. She is also well-known to have traveled to Syria
WRORRNIRUWKHUHOLFVRI-HVXV&KULVW¶VFURVVWKHRQHWKDWZDVXVHGLQKLVFUXFL¿[LRQ,WLVDOVR
widely believed that she found it in the same country.
• Duplo or Karagatan are native dramas that are connected to Catholic mourning rituals and
harvest celebrations.
• Zarzuela is probably one of the most famous forms of entertainment back in the Spanish
era. Zarzuelas are musical comedies or melodramas that deal with the elemental passions of
human beings. A zarzuela follows a certain plot, which shows either a satirical look at society or
a begrudged life.
These kinds of Spanish colonial literature show how welcoming your Filipino ancestors were to the
Catholic faith. Most of them were happy to be baptized and immediately began to follow Catholicism’s
traditions and teachings. This faith and belief transcended up until now, because the Philippines is the
WKLUGODUJHVW&DWKROLFQDWLRQLQWKHZRUOGLQWHUPVRISRSXODWLRQDIWHU%UD]LODQG0H[LFR$WWKHVDPH
time, these kinds of literature also helped shape the literature that we have today, not only in terms of
faith, but also in terms of values system, societal norms, and realizations about life.
Compare the precolonial literature and Spanish colonial literature in the Philippines in terms
of the following:
Precolonial Philippine Spanish Colonial Philippine

Points of Comparison
Literature Literature
Forms
Themes
Precolonial Philippine Spanish Colonial Philippine
Points of Comparison
Literature Literature
Purpose
Plots
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Despite being colonized, most Filipinos back then still treasured the old myths and folklores of
their ancestors. One of these is Jose Rizal. Even though he is an ilustradoD)LOLSLQRVWXGHQWHGXFDWHG
DEURDGKH VWLOO ¿UPO\FKDPSLRQHG WKHOLWHUDWXUH RISUHFRORQLDO 3KLOLSSLQHVDQG KDG DOVRVSHQW WLPH
researching on them. This is his retelling of a famous mysterious maiden who once lived in the
mountains of his hometown.
Mariang Makiling
As retold By Gat. Jose P. Rizal in Northern Luzon
There are many stories woven about this guardian spirit. Most of them deal with her helping the
poor and the sick, in the guise of a peasant girl. The precious things she lent the country folk are said to
EHUHWXUQHGWRKHUDORQJZLWKWKHRɣHULQJRID\RXQJSXOOHWZLWKIHDWKHUVZKLWHDVPLON
A hunter has recounted a face-to-face encounter with the enigma herself. He was hunting a wild
boar, he said, deep into the forest where Mariang Makiling lived. The boar suddenly crashed into some
EXVKHVDQGWKHKXQWHUIHDULQJWKDWKHZRXOGQRW¿QGLWDJDLQGLYHGLQDIWHULW:KHQKHFDPHWRKLV
feet he saw a small hut, and witnessed his prey entering it. He followed the boar into the hut, thinking it
deserted, and then he came face to face with a beautiful maiden standing by the boar, who was meek in
her presence. The maiden said “This boar is mine and you must not harm it. But I see that you are tired
and hurt. Come in, eat, and then go your way.”
The hunter felt compelled to obey her. He sat down at her table, and she served him a porridge that
he found was unlike anything he had ever tasted. It invigorated him, and after eating, he felt healed. As
DSDUWLQJJLIW0DULDQJ0DNLOLQJ¿OOHGKLVSHDVDQWKDWFDOOHGDsalakot, with yellow ginger.
The hunter, on his way home from the forest, found that his salakot was growing heavier and
heavier, and so he broke a few pieces of ginger in half and threw some bits away. Upon coming home,
he handed Maria Makiling’s gifts to his wife, who found that the salakot, instead of containing ginger,
as her husband claimed, contained gold. The hunter regretted having thrown away a few bits of ginger/
gold along the way.
Mariang Makiling is said to be more than compassionate. Once, there lived a young farmer who
DOZD\V VHHPHG WR EH EOHVVHG +LV ¿HOGV ZHUH QHYHU WRXFKHG E\ DQ\ FDODPLW\ DQG KLV OLYHVWRFN ZHUH

always in good health. The people of his village say he is endowed with a charm, or mutya, as it is
called, that protected him and his from harm. The young man himself was good at heart and simple in
spirit. But he was quiet and secretive, and would not say much of his stranger activities, which included
frequent visits into the wood of Mariang Makiling.
But there came a terrible time for him and his family. War Big Idea
KDG FRPH WR KLV IDLU ODQG DQG DUP\ RɤFHUV FDPH UHFUXLWLQJ Learning about Filipino
unmarried young men who were in perfect health. So that the folklore and myths is important in
young man would stay safely in the village, his mother arranged your formation as a citizen of this
for him a marriage with a most beauteous daughter of a wealthy country. These stories show you
IDPLO\8SRQ¿QGLQJWKLVRXWWKH\RXQJPDQEHFDPHPRUHVXOOHQ what values were upheld in society
before up to now. For example, in
than ever. “Mariang Makiling,” the values of
He visited Mariang Makiling’s wood one last time, a few days honesty, loyalty, and generosity are
pointed out by Mariang Makiling,
before his marriage. Mariang Makiling lent him a dress and some who trusts people.
jewelry, for his wife to wear on their wedding day. “I would that
you were consecrated to me,” she said sadly, “but you need an
earthly love, and you do not have enough faith in me besides. I could have protected you and your
family.” This having been said, she disappeared. The young man went back to his village with Mariang
Makiling’s gifts, and presented them at once to the girl he would marry.
But the girl did not care for Mariang Makiling’s gifts. Instead she wore the pearls and dresses her
mother had handed down.
Mariang Makiling was never seen by the peasants again, nor was her humble hut ever rediscovered.
Source: http://www.philsites.net/folklore/stories/legend1.html
Reflect Upon
)DLULHVZLWFKHVDQGHQFKDQWHGZRPHQDUHFRPPRQLQ79VKRZV¿OPVDQGOLWHUDWXUH:KDW
YDOXHVRI0DULD0DNLOLQJDUHGLɣHUHQWIURPRWKHUFKDUDFWHUVWKDW\RXKDYHHQFRXQWHUHG"
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
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Beyond Walls 1.3 Apply It in Real Life
Track: Academic
It is the acquaintance party for faculty members in the university where you have just joined as
a professor. The theme for this year’s party is Philippine folklore. Your task is to think of a character
from precolonial and Spanish colonial Philippine literature and create your own costume that will
fully represent your chosen character. Aside from that, you will also prepare a short introduction of
your character and give a short description. Make sure that your introduction is both informative
and witty. There will be a fashion show showcasing the costumes, and the deans of your university
will be judging the best costume, the best character, and the best introduction.
Extend Your Knowledge
1. If you are interested in further readings on Philippine precolonial myths and legends, you may
¿QGDQH[WHQVLYHDQQRWDWHGOLVWLQJRI3KLOLSSLQH P\WKVDQG OHJHQGVWKURXJK RQHRI'DPLDQD
Eugenio’s books. As the Mother of Philippine Folklore, Eugenio has compiled and transcribed
in English almost a thousand precolonial myths. Some of her most popular books are Philippine
Folk Literature: The Myths 8QLYHUVLW\ RI WKH 3KLOLSSLQHV 3UHVV  DQG Philippine Folk
Literature: An Anthology 8QLYHUVLW\RIWKH3KLOLSSLQHV3UHVV
 <RXPD\DOVR¿QGVRPHZHEVLWHVGHGLFDWHGWR3KLOLSSLQHP\WKVOHJHQGVDQGIRONORUH$JRRG
example is the alamat. You can access it here: http://folktales.webmanila.com/. Currently, it
is still adding more stories to the web page.
Essential Learning
The Philippine literary scene has been thriving even before the country was colonized. The age-
old values that Filipinos nowadays still emulate have been evident in precolonial literature like the
Hinilawod. In this epic, three brothers show their bravery, strength, wisdom, and camaraderie to
win against their opponents. In the end, they are rewarded with a peaceful and bountiful life.
7KH FRORQL]DWLRQ RI 6SDLQ GLG QRW GHWHU 3KLOLSSLQH OLWHUDWXUH IURP ÀRXULVKLQJ LQVWHDG
Philippine literature became richer and more intricate. Writers such as Jose Rizal, despite being
educated abroad as an ilustrado, did not forget about their heritage and chose to transcribe some
of the more popular myths and folklore of their hometown, so that these could be enjoyed by future
generations. These writings, whether precolonial or colonial, are to be cherished for they show the
ever-evolving lives of the Filipinos and the extensive colorful history of the country. They can be
used by future generations as sources of wisdom and knowledge. Indeed, mapping the Philippine
literary landscape of the past can help young Filipinos like you to live your life meaningfully and
determine what you want for yourself—and the country—in the future.

Module
2 Poetry of the Archipelago

1. Identify representative texts and authors from each region.
2. Emphasize the region I come from through the process of research and a performance.
 $QDO\]HWKH¿JXUHVRIVSHHFKDQGRWKHUOLWHUDU\WHFKQLTXHVDQGGHYLFHVLQWKHWH[W
 ,GHQWLI\FRPPRQ¿JXUHVRIVSHHFKXVHGLQ3KLOLSSLQHSRHWU\
5. Explain the relationship of the context with the text’s meaning, how they enhance the
text’s meaning and enrich my understanding.
Poetry is probably the most sophisticated of all literary genres. Your Filipino ancestors, through
RUDO WUDGLWLRQ VKDUHG HSLFV SURYHUEV ULGGOHV DQG IRONVRQJV LQ SRHWLF IRUP²ZLWK D VSHFL¿F IRUPDO
scheme in which they strictly followed. Writer and literary critic Gemino Abad has written that the
MRXUQH\WRFUHDWLQJDORFDOSRHWLFLGHQWLW\KDVEHHQFRQWLQXDOO\WUDQVIRUPHGE\WKHGLɣHUHQWFRORQL]HUV
who have stayed in the country and the continued fascination with languages—be it English, Filipino,
Visayan, Bikolano, and so much more. Yet, poetry is still the chosen genre of many local writers, for
LWRɣHUVDXQLTXHQHVVWKDWRWKHUJHQUHVPD\QRWDFKLHYHWKHRSSRUWXQLW\WRVHHWKHZRUOGDQHZZLWK
every single written word.
7KHQRQJRYHUQPHQWRUJDQL]DWLRQ1*2ZKHUH\RXDUHZRUNLQJDVDYROXQWHHULVRUJDQL]LQJLWV
annual poetry event, which is the Tulaan sa Paaralan. The goal of this project is to invite students
to write poetry by setting up a writeable space on the wall of your school. As initial content of
the wall, all volunteers are required to submit an entry. You may follow any structure that you
know in writing your poems, but the poems should communicate the message of empowerment,
experiences, and rights of children. Write your “minds” and “hearts” out in the poems that you will
post on the wall, because the best poems, which will be decided by the head of the organization, will
be read by the writer during the opening ceremony of the project.
Philippine Poetry: Its Form, Language, and Speech

3RHWU\ LQ WKH 3KLOLSSLQHV LV QRW GLɣHUHQW IURP LWV RWKHU Big Idea
FRXQWHUSDUWVDURXQGWKHZRUOG,QWKHHDUO\V)LOLSLQRSRHWU\
Poetry is a reflection of the
FHOHEUDWHGURPDQWLFLVPDQGVHYHUDOSRHPVDERXWORYHÀRXULVKHG country’s history and changing
Eventually, as the years went on, poetry became more formalist— lifestyles, values, and situations.
the emphasis of the poetry is more on the form and language that Poems are full of emotion, so they
the poet used, rather than the theme itself. Then, modern poetry reflect what Filipinos are feeling at
a given historical period. Poems
sprouted, and nowadays, writers are more adventurous in their
also communicate the people’s
craft. Here are some elements of poetry that local writers use in hopes for the future.
their poems.
Senses and images are used by the writer to describe their impressions of their topic or object of
writing. The writer uses carefully chosen and phrased words to create an imagery that the reader can
see through his or her senses. The kinds of sense impressions in poetry are categorized in mainly the
following: visual imageryZKDWWKHZULWHUZDQWV\RXWRVHHolfactory imageryZKDWWKHZULWHUZDQWV
\RXWRVPHOOgustatory imageryZKDWWKHZULWHUZDQWV\RXWRWDVWHtactile imageryZKDWWKHZULWHU
ZDQWV\RXWRIHHODQGauditory imageryZKDWWKHZULWHUZDQWV\RXWRKHDU
Diction is another important element in Filipino poetry. In fact, Filipino writers are very careful of
the way they write and the words they use to form their poems. Diction is the denotative and connotative
meaning of the words in a sentence, phrase, paragraph, or poem.
Rhyme scheme is the way the author arranges words, meters, lines, and stanzas to create a coherent
sound when the poem is read out loud. It may be formal or informal, depending on the way the poem
was written by the poet.
Senses, imagery, diction, and rhyme scheme are emphasized in this canonical poem, “Gabu,” one
of the most widely read local poems in English by Carlos Angeles.
Fig. 2.1. Carlos Angeles

Source: http://www.oocities.org/phil_
writers/AngelesCarlos.jpg
Carlos Angeles ZDVERUQRQ0D\LQ7DFOREDQ/H\WH+H¿QLVKHGKLVXQGHUJUDGXDWHGHJUHH

in the University of the Philippines. His work has been included in poetry anthologies in the United
States. His poetry collection, Stun of Jewels, won the Republic Cultural Heritage Award in Literature
EDFNLQKHDOVRZRQWKH'RQ&DUORV3DODQFD0HPRULDO$ZDUGVLQ3RHWU\LQWKHVDPH\HDU+HLV
an active member of many Filipino-American press clubs in the US, where he has lived most of his life
when he was alive. His poem “Gabu” is said to be one of the most widely read and well-loved Filipino
poems written in English.
Go to the following link and read the poem “Gabu” by Carlos Angeles:
http://www.luisaigloria.com/some-poems-i-love-best/

'UDZ\RXUYLVXDO LPDJHU\RI³*DEX´DV GHVFULEHGLQWKHSRHPRQ DSLHFHRISDSHU 7KHQ¿QG

more information about Ilocos and its beaches, and try to guess which beach Carlos Angeles is
talking about by pertaining to the poem’s imagery. Compare and contrast the beach you have
envisioned and drawn versus the beach Carlos Angeles has written about. How are they similar and
GLɣHUHQW"6KDUH\RXURXWSXWZLWKWKHUHVWRIWKHFODVV
The poem is about a coastline in Ilocos that has been weathered away by the battering of the restless
sea. Somehow, the persona of the poem is able to relate it with one’s situation in life. The line, “It is the
sea pursues a habit of shores,” has many possible interpretations. Can you discuss with your partner a
possible interpretation that you have for that last line?
Now, can you guess the rhyming scheme of the poem? The poem has four quatrains, with the last
RQHRɣVHWE\RQO\RQHOLQHWKDWFRQFOXGHVWKHSRHPTXLWHZHOO:KLFKOLQHVUK\PHZLWKHDFKRWKHU"+RZ
does this rhyming scheme add to the beauty of the poem?
Another element of poetry used frequently is the idea of a speaker. The speaker in the poem is the
voice that talks to the reader. Sometimes, it refers to itself as “I” or “me” or, sometimes, in the third
SHUVRQVKHKHKLVKHU<RXVKRXOGDOVRQRWHWKDWWKHVSHDNHULVQRWQHFHVVDULO\WKHSRHW7KH SRHW
PD\KDYHDGLɣHUHQWSHUVRQDLQPLQGZKLOHZULWLQJWKHSRHPDQGPD\KDYHQRWWDNHQWKHVLWXDWLRQVLQ
the poem from his or her life experiences.
The structure of the poem is the arrangement of words and lines, either together or apart. It also
refers to the way the interdependent parts of it are organized to form a whole poem.
Word order is either the natural or the unnatural arrangement of words in a poem. A poet may use
a word grammatically or not—often called as poetic license—and may invent words too. Sometimes, as
is common in Filipino writers who write in English, Filipino poets use local words to add more locality
to a given poem. If the Filipino word also does not have a direct English translation, then the poet may
use the Filipino word and italicize it for emphasis.
)LOLSLQR SRHWU\DOWKRXJK JUHDWO\LQÀXHQFHG E\ WKHSUHYLRXV FRORQL]HUVRI WKH FRXQWU\VWDQGV RQ
LWVRZQZKHQLWFRPHVWRLWVXQLTXHHOHPHQWV7KHUHLVDFHUWDLQYRLFHWKDW)LOLSLQRSRHWU\RɣHUV²RQH
which a fellow Filipino like you can relate to, especially when you apply these in real life situations.
Fig. 2.2. Marjorie Evasco

Source: http://www.southbankcentre.co.uk/sites/default/files/
parnassus/Poets/PHILIPPINES----Evasco,-Marjorie-1-(1).jpg
Close Reading of Filipino Poetry
The concept of organic unity was established by the New Big Idea
Criticism school of thought. It says that all the interdependent According to the New
parts of a literary selection must add up to create one whole. In Criticism school of thought, poetry
literature, all the parts and aspects of a literary selection must must have “organic unity”—
contribute to one whole so crucially that if one part or aspect went everything must be whole for it to
be complete. This concept means
missing, the literary selection cannot be complete or may not have
that all parts must be accounted
the same meaning anymore. To understand the organic unity of a for and discoverable. In poetry, this
poem, you must use the process of close reading. Close reading can be done through close reading.
is a way for you to analyze the poem by carefully reading and
rereading a text until you have found its interpretation.
:KHQ\RXFORVHUHDG)LOLSLQRSRHWU\ZKDWPXVW\RXORRNRXWIRU"<RXPD\WU\WR¿QGWKHcontext of
the poem—when it was written, the setting in which it was written, the reason why it was written—for
you to better understand its idea. You may also look at its interdependent elements, as was discussed
SUHYLRXVO\ VR WKDW \RX PD\ ¿QG YLVXDO FOXHV WR LWV PHDQLQJ WKURXJK LWV UK\PLQJ VFKHPH RYHUDOO
structure, word order, and the like. You may also try to identify who the persona is and who the persona
is dedicating the poem to. Again, the persona does not necessarily have to be the author—it can be any
IDFHLQORFDOVRFLHW\VRPHRQHZKR¿WVWKHGHVFULSWLRQVLQWKHSRHPTXLWHZHOO
7U\WRFORVHUHDGWKLVSRHPE\0DUMRULH(YDVFRHQWLWOHG³,V,WWKH.LQJ¿VKHU"´
0DUMRULH(YDVFR ZDVERUQLQ %RKRORQ 6HSWHPEHU 6KHZULWHVELOLQJXDOO\ LQ(QJOLVK DQG
Cebuano-Visayan, and is considered one of the country’s earliest feminist poets. She has received
QXPHURXV DZDUGV IRU KHU SRHWU\ DQG LQ  VKH UHFHLYHG WKH SUHVWLJLRXV 6RXWK (DVW $VLDQ :ULWH
$ZDUG6($:ULWH6KHLVFXUUHQWO\DSURIHVVRUHPHULWXVRI'H/D6DOOH8QLYHUVLW\±0DQLOD

,V,WWKH.LQJ¿VKHU"
By Marjorie Evasco
This is how I desire god on this island

With you today: basic and blue
As the sea that softens our feet with salt
And brings the living wave to our mouths
Playing with sounds of a primary language.
“God is blue,” sang the poet Juan Ramon Jimenez,
Drunk with desiring, his hair, eyebrows,
(\HODVKHVWXUQHGEOXHDVWKHNLQJ¿VKHU¶VZLQJV
It is this bird that greets us as we come
Round the eastern bend of this island;
Tells us the hairbreadth boundary between us
Is transient as the air, permeable to the blue
Of tropic skies and mountain gentian.
Where we sit on this rock covered with seaweeds,
I suddenly feel the blueness embrace us,
This rock, this island, this changed air,
The distance between us and the Self
We have longed to be. A bolt of burning blue
Lights in my brain, gives the answer
We’ve pursued this whole day:
6HDZDYHVVLQJLWWKHNLQJ¿VKHUÀLHVLQLW
This island is rooted in it. Desiring
God is transparent blue—the color
Which makes our souls visible.
Source: http://marjorieevasco.jimdo.com/is_it_the_kingfisher.php
Reflect Upon
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UHODWLRQVKLSZLWK*RGEHUHÀHFWHGLQ\RXUGDLO\OLIH"
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
7KH SRHP ³,V ,W WKH .LQJ¿VKHU"´DQDO\]HV WKH UHODWLRQVKLSV RQH KDV ZLWK D 6XSUHPH %HLQJ LQ D
tropical island where everything seems clear through nature. You should read and reread poems such
as Evasco’s to understand the depth of its meaning. The questions asked in the5HÀHFW8SRQ section are
guide questions to help you closely read the poem. This time, try reading the poem out loud with proper
pronunciation and enunciation in front of the class. If you have formed your own interpretation of the
poem, try reading it in line with your interpretation by putting emphasis and feelings on the words and
lines which you think are important to its central message.
Another poem that is made for poetry recitation is Jose Garcia Villa’s “First, A Poem Must Be
Magical.”
Jose Garcia Villa is a National Artist for Literature who introduced the reversed consonance rhyme
scheme and the comma poems that used the punctuation mark in poetry in innovative ways. He received
the Guggenheim, Bollingen, and the American Academy of Arts Big Idea
Letters Awards. Furthermore, he is credited to be a proponent of
We are created as different
experimentation and invention in poetry. people, but we should always
Recite this poem out loud with feelings, emotions, proper respect each other’s differences.
Do not throw hate at people for
pronunciation, and enunciation. Do you think your interpretation
being different.
of the poem changed when you read it out loud? Why or why not?
Go to
• http://www.seasite.niu.edu/tagalog/literature/Poems/Others/First_A_Poem_Must.htm
• KWWSDDZZRUJZSFRQWHQWXSORDGV-RVH*DUFLD9LOODSQJ
Reflect Upon
How can a poem be magical for you? Can you name some characteristics that make a poem
VSHFLDODQG¿QGWKHLUV\PEROLVPLQWKHSRHP"
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
Watch this crash course on prejudice and discrimination found at https://www.youtube.com/

ZDWFK"Y 3L3=PD. Then answer the following questions:
1. What is implicit bias? How does this lead to prejudice and discrimination?
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
2. Based on what you have watched, how can prejudice and discrimination be avoided?
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________

Ask the same questions you posed when you read the previous poem. Who is the persona of the
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SRHPDQGKRZLVLWXVHGWRHɣHFWLYHO\VKRZWKHSRHP¶VPHDQLQJ",VWKHUHDQ\WKLQJLQQRYDWLYHDERXW
the way the poem is written? How did you feel when you read it out loud? Did the poem change its
meaning and impact once you read it out loud as opposed to just reading it?
Reflect Upon
What can you say about Jose Garcia Villa’s style of writing in “First, A Poem Must Be Magical”
LQWHUPVRIODQJXDJH":KDWGR\RXWKLQNZDVWKHHɣHFWRIWKHVW\OHLQWKHRYHUDOODSSHDORIWKHSRHP"
___________________________________________________________________
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1. What is organic unity? How is it important in understanding the meaning of a poem?
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
2. Why is there a need to read a poem out loud?
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
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3. What makes Filipino poetry unique?
________________________________________________________________
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Track: Academic
As a writer for a popular regional magazine, part of your job is to translate popular poems into
your regional language. Your editor has given you two poems to translate into your regional language
and has asked you to choose one. You must try to make your translation accurate, understandable,
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Letter to Amina, Who Must Surely Be Ang Saksi Ay Ebidensya at

Among Angels Napatunayang Nagkasala
By Merlie Alunan By Kristian Sendon Cordero
-XO\ Titigan ang mga mata ng nabubulok

2UPRFWKUHH\HDUVDIWHUWKHÀRRG na pinya. Salatin ang tuyong balat
ng palakang ginawang pitaka.
Not by your old name I address you,
May mga bangkay na hitsurang talong
No, not by the one you went by ang natagpuan sa luwasan. May mga
When living in our midst, nalunod
Mamang, name that kept you bound na mukhang singkamas ang kanilang
To cradle, washtub, sink and stove mukha.
Till your back bent and all your singing At may ilang labi na pinagtagpo-tagpo
sa isang hukay. Hindi matiyak ang bilang
Caked into silence song in your dreaming
ng mga bangkay gayong alam natin na ang
&UXVKHG OLNH ¿VKERQH LQ WKH WUDɤF RI GDLO\ sunod
need.
sa isa ay dalawa, tatlo, apat, lima, anim,
Your own name, then. Amina. hanggang
Cold letters etched on stone in Ormoc’s mapagod tayo sa pagbibilang—tapusin ang
taguan.
Graveyard hill, the syllables gliding still
At ito lamang ang dumarami: nabubulok na
All music and gold upon the tongue of laman.
memory—
Amina. Back here, no news you’d like to hear, Ginawa ang numero para isa-isa tayong
Or that you wouldn’t know: One day at noon, mamatay.
In a year of war and famine, of volcanoes Nanghuhuli ng butiki ang mga bata para
ipakain
bursting
sa arowana. Piso ang bili sa butiki sa lu-
And earthquakes shaking the ground we gawan.
stood on,
Floodwaters broke from the mountains— Sinasabi sa alamat na pinatay ng binatang
Our city drowned in an hour’s rampage. naging butiki ang kanyang nanay para ibigay
ang puso nito sa kanyang nililigawan.
But you’ve gone ahead to this hill three years
.XWREDQQDDQJQDQD\QJEXWLNLD\DQJ
before, arowana.
You weren’t there to witness what we had to 3DQVLQLQKDZLJVDNDULWQL.DPDWD\DQDQJ
do tandang
pananong. Pugot na ulo ang tuldok.

Letter to Amina, Who Must Surely Be Ang Saksi Ay Ebidensya at
Among Angels Napatunayang Nagkasala
By Merlie Alunan By Kristian Sendon Cordero
Among the leavings of the water, the mud, Sabi: dating tenga ng reyna ang sandok na
The rubble and debris, the countless bodies ginagamit
Littering the streets—your husband among sa pagluluto ng tengang-daga. Samantalang
them, sa ating
A son, his wife, their children—how mga bundok patuloy na nananahan ang
In a panic of our sudden loss haring
We pried and scraped and shoveled from the higante na naghahanap ng kanyang makulay
ooze na bahag,
What had once been beloved, crammed them na kakulay ng bahag-hari. Narito ang isang
FRɤQOHVV di-inubos
without ritual without tears into the maw of na mais mula sa kalsada. Maaaring gawa ito
earth ng isang batang naumay sa lasa o daga na
Beside you on that graveyard hill. biglang
Amina, what have the angels to say ginambala kaya di natapos ang pagsiba.
Of that gross outrage? O maaaring ganito lamang ito, di nabuo ang
buto.
I keep my own name, true, and feel myself
Free to make the words of my singing,
Pansinin ang mga ngipin. Hanapin ang
But I sing only in my own woman’s voice,
OLKLPQJWDOLP.DLODQJDQJKXOLKLQDQJ
Cracked with too much laughter, or anger,
katwiran bago sumirit ang apdo sa dilim.
Or tears. And who’s to listen, I don’t know,
$GPLWWLQJDV,GRQRWUDɤFZLWKDQJHOV
Source: http://www.highchair.com.ph/
I remember only your woman’s beauty fading, issue12_3/12_saksi.htm
And this, what’s left for a daughter to touch —
your namestone mute among the grass green
singing,
Your name I raise to the wind like a prayer.
If you hear it whispering in the lift and fall
of angel wings, please send word somehow—
Have they given you back your voice?
I’d like to know—lost among the angels,
What can a woman sing?
And what do you remember?
Source: http://journals.upd.edu.ph/index.php/rws/
article/viewFile/3145/2952
There are many online poetry journals by Filipinos that have become a good avenue for
both young and established poets to reach their readers. One of the well-known ones is the
High Chair Journal http://www.highchair.com.ph/ DQG Plural Prose Journal http://www.
pluralprosejournal.com 7KHVH MRXUQDOV DUH IUHH DQG DOVR IHDWXUH HVVD\V DQG FRPLFV &KRRVH DQ
issue and have fun reading it!
Essential Learning
Filipino poetry is unique in its own composition. Despite having been colonized for hundreds of
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that may tackle themes ranging from love to isolation, racial prejudice, one’s close relationship with
God, natural disasters, and so much more.
7KHUHDUHZD\VWRLQWHUSUHWSRHWU\VXFKDVGLVFXVVLQJGLɣHUHQWHOHPHQWVWKDWDUHSUHVHQW7KHVH
elements include word choice, form, and imagery. You may also look at its organic unity to see
how a poem’s interdependent parts work together to create a beautiful piece of art. The best way
to understand a poem, however, is to read it out loud with proper pronunciation, enunciation,
and feelings. Poems are always meant to be read out loud, even in these modern times. More
importantly, this sampling of Filipino poetry has made you realize that on a global scale, Filipino
writers can stand on their own.

Module
3 The Landscape of Philippine Fiction

1. Appreciate the contributions of the canonical Filipino writers to the development of
national literature.
2. Infer literary meaning from literal language based on usage.
3. Explain the literary, biographical, linguistic, and sociocultural contexts and discuss
how they enhance the text’s meaning and enrich my understanding.
4. Produce a creative representation of a literary text by applying multimedia skills.
,IWKHUHLVRQHWKLQJ)LOLSLQRVORYHLWLVDJRRGGUDPDWLFVWRU\)LOLSLQRVFDQHDVLO\¿QGWKHPVHOYHV
in one of the characters whom they watch on TV: the optimistic little girl who is tormented by evil
relatives; the poor rich girl who has everything but can never be as optimistic as the poor protagonist;
and even the antagonist who has a vendetta against everyone but gets the wittiest lines in the TV show.
Aside from this, Filipinos also relate the situations in the story to certain parts of their lives, such as
the longing for a lost parent or child, the death of a relative, or a dramatic love story that is against the
world. One of the most popular telenovelas in Philippine television is Mara Clara. Did you watch this
telenovela? Did you like the story?
Fig. 3.1. Mara Clara

Source: http://www2.abs-cbn.com/Portals/0/Shows/showmain-maraclara.jpg
No matter how much Filipinos see themselves and their situations in popular TV shows, the fact
UHPDLQVWKDWWKHVHDUHDOOSURGXFWVRI¿FWLRQ$¿FWLRQ is a story that is entirely made up and is not true.
$WWLPHV¿FWLRQPD\UHVHPEOHUHDOLW\EXWLWLVSXUHO\FLUFXPVWDQWLDO,Q3KLOLSSLQHOLWHUDWXUHWKHUHDUH
many stories that have shaped the way Filipinos read and view their surroundings. A good example
is Jose Rizal’s books, Noli Me Tangere and El Filibusterismo. These novels are a long and sustained
critical story about the Spanish rule. Another good example is through short stories such as the ones in
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So, what are the common techniques used by these short stories? What follows in this module are
some of the best short stories written in Philippine literature, a brief background about their authors,
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Techniques of Fiction
Fiction, just like any good story, starts with a great character. Big Idea
The character of the story is the one you relate with, converse Fiction is an essential mark
with, or listen to the thoughts of. This character and the way he of storytelling that takes what
or she changes as the story progresses become the driving force appears to be real, speculative, and
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disinterested as you read. The character may be kind, rich, that connects with readers. Fiction
is essential because it may enhance
confusing, annoying, bratty, complicated, ever-changing, and so your creativity and imagination,
on. In the end, the character of a short story still holds the key to which can influence other aspects
ZKHWKHUWKH¿FWLRQZLOOEHJRRGRUQRW of your life as well.
Sometimes, characters also serve as symbols of a story. What
is symbolism LQ ¿FWLRQ" $ VKRUW VWRU\ PD\ XVH D FKDUDFWHU REMHFW RU HYHQW WR VLJQLI\ VRPHWKLQJ
else from its original meaning. A character may symbolize a community or an event in history. Two
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There are times when you may not be sure what the symbolisms in a given story are. As the reader, you
need to examine these symbols and come up with your own interpretations.
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writers in the contemporary era, such as Loreto Paras Sulit, Paz Latorena, Bienvenido Santos, Manuel
Arguilla, and S. P. Lopez. In fact, National Artist Francisco Arcellana dubbed her “the mother of us all,”
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Filipino modern English-language short story titled “Dead Stars.”
Fig. 3.2. Paz Marquez Benitez

Source: https://kahimyang.com/kauswagan/articles/972/today-in-philippine-history-
march-3-1894-paz-marquezbenitez-was-born-in-lucena-city-quezon

Read “Dead Stars” by Paz Marquez Benitez.
Dead Stars
By 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
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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?”
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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.
“How can a woman be in a hurry when the man does not hurry her?” Carmen returned, pinching
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“In love? With whom?”
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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 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
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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.
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 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
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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 argues
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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 repose—almost
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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-shrivelled 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 with the Judge. This particular evening
however, he had allowed himself to be persuaded. “A little mental relaxation now and then is
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”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
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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.

“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
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“As you did this time. Still, you looked amused every time I—”
”I was thinking of Mr. Manalang.”
Reflect Upon
Have you ever been in a situation when you experienced a miscommunication with
another person’s name, just like what happened to Alfredo and Julia? What did you do, or
what will you do if you ever get caught up in the same situation?
______________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________
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
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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
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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.
On Sunday mornings after mass, father and son would go crunching up the gravel road to the
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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.
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.
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He and Julia Salas stood looking out into the she quiet night. Sensing unwanted intensity,
laughed, 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
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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.”
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“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
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her father; how Doña Adela’s Dionisio was the most absentminded of men, sometimes going out
without his collar, or with unmatched socks.

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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.
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.
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“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
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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?”
“If you are, you never look it.”
“Not perspiring or breathless, as a busy man ought to be.”
“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.
“Nothing? There is you.”
“Oh, me? But I am here.”
“I will not go, of course, until you are there.”
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“Well—Americans are rather essential to my entertainment.”
She laughed.
“We live on Calle Luz, a little street with trees.”
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“If you 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—”
“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.”
The golden streamer was withdrawing, shortening, until it looked no more than a pool far away
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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
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QRZFLUFOHGE\VZDOORZVJOLGLQJLQÀLJKWDVVPRRWKDQGVRIWDVWKHDIWHUQRRQ
itself. Into the quickly deepening twilight, the voice of the
biggest of the church bells kept ringing its insistent summons. Big Idea
Flocking came the devout with their long wax candles, young Good-byes can be difficult
ZRPHQLQYLYLGDSSDUHOIRU WKLVZDV+RO\7KXUVGD\DQGWKH because we want to share a
/RUGZDVVWLOODOLYHROGHUZRPHQLQVREHUEODFNVNLUWV&DPH physical space with the people
close to us, but at the same time,
too the young men in droves, elbowing each other under the good-byes are a natural thing. The
talisay tree near the church door. The gaily decked rice-paper best thing to do when people say
lanterns were again on display while from the windows of the good-bye is to wave back and wish
older houses hung colored glass globes, heirlooms from a day to see them again.
ZKHQ JUDVVSLWK ZLFNV ÀRDWLQJ LQ FRFRQXW RLO ZHUH WKH FKLHI
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.
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.
(VSHUDQ]DVWLɣHQHGVHOIFRQVFLRXVO\WULHGWRORRNXQDZDUHDQGFRXOGQRW
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
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?”
“Yes.”
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.”
6RPHH[SODQDWLRQZDVGXHKHUVXUHO\<HWZKDWFRXOGKHVD\WKDWZRXOGQRWRɣHQG"
³,VKRXOGKDYHRɣHUHGFRQJUDWXODWLRQVORQJEHIRUHEXW\RXNQRZPHUHYLVLWRUVDUHVORZDERXW
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 tones of early acquaintance. No revelation
WKHUHVLPSO\WKHROGYRLFH²FRRODOPRVWGHWDFKHGIURPSHUVRQDOLW\ÀH[LEOHDQGYLEUDQWVXJJHVWLQJ
potentialities of song.
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“When they are of friends, yes.”
“Would you come if I asked you?”

“When is it going to be?”
³0D\´KHUHSOLHGEULHÀ\DIWHUDORQJSDXVH
“May is the month of happiness they say,” she said, with what seemed to him a shade of irony.
³7KH\VD\´VORZO\LQGLɣHUHQWO\³:RXOG\RXFRPH"´
“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.
“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.”
³%XWWKHQZK\²ZK\²´KHUPXɥHGYRLFHFDPH³2KZKDWGR,NQRZ"7KDWLVKLVSUREOHPDIWHU
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.
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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,
(VSHUDQ]DQRORQJHU\RXQJ(VSHUDQ]DWKHHɤFLHQWWKHOLWHUDOPLQGHGWKHLQWHQVHO\DFTXLVLWLYH
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
KRPHLQFKXUFKRQWKHVWUHHWVKHZDVDOZD\VKHUVHOIDZRPDQSDVW¿UVWEORRPOLJKWDQGFOHDURI
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
SDXVHKHGUDZOHGRXWWR¿OOLQWKHJDS³:HOOZKDWRILW"´7KHUHPDUNVRXQGHGUXGHUWKDQKHKDG
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.”
³1R´LQGLɣHUHQWO\
“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
WRDSSO\WRFRQGXFWLVWKHWHVWRIIDLUQHVV$P,LQMXULQJDQ\ERG\"1R"7KHQ,DPMXVWL¿HGLQP\
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
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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.
$OIUHGRZDVVXɣHULQJDVKHFRXOGQRWUHPHPEHUHYHUKDYLQJVXɣHUHGEHIRUH:KDWSHRSOHZLOO
say—what will they not say? What don’t they say when long engagements are broken almost on the
eve of the wedding?
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easy, one does not dare—”
“What do you mean?” she asked with repressed violence. “Whatever my shortcomings, and
QRGRXEWWKH\DUHPDQ\LQ\RXUH\HV,KDYHQHYHUJRQHRXWRIP\ZD\RIP\SODFHWR¿QGDPDQ´
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.
Why is the story entitled “Dead Stars”? What does the title symbolize?
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
III
AS Alfredo Salazar leaned against the boat rail to watch the evening settling over the lake, he
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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. He had
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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 abogado and invite him to our house.”
Alfredo Salazar courteously declined the invitation. He would sleep on board since the boat
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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
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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
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prayer.
A few inquiries led him to a certain little tree-ceilinged street where the young moon wove
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jets of sound. Calle Luz.
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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,” he answered with a feeling of painful constraint.
“Won’t you come up?”
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.
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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.
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.
Source: http://www.sushidog.com/bpss/stories/stars.html
Activity:
Choose one of the main characters—Alfredo, Julia, or Esperanza. Think as if you were this
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understand him or her more deeply.
Name of Character
What are you thinking?
What are you feeling?
What are you seeing?
What are you saying?
What are you doing?
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choices they make, what they do to attain these choices, and how they deal with the consequences of
their actions. What was the choice that Alfredo had to make, and how did this choice make him feel?
What did Esperanza want, and why did she not get it?
3DUWRI¿FWLRQHVSHFLDOO\LQVKRUWVWRULHVLVWKHFKDOOHQJHWRWKHPDLQFKDUDFWHUVZKDWGRWKH\ZDQW
and what do they do to get it? What is the intention of the character? This intention sets the plot for the
short story, wherein you see how well-rounded the protagonist is and what he or she is capable of doing
just to get what he or she desires. Depending on the outcome of the story, the character may either
triumph or fail, and seeing how the character reacts to these changes also sets the tone for the climax,
until the short story is concluded.
Short stories also express a lot of irony in life situations. There are three kinds of irony that you will
HQFRXQWHULQVKRUWVWRULHV7KH¿UVWRQHLVverbal irony, when what is said by the character is not what
he or she originally meant. The second is situational ironyZKHQWKHDFWXDORXWFRPHRIDVLWXDWLRQVD\
WKHFRQFOXVLRQLVGLɣHUHQWIURPWKHH[SHFWHGRXWFRPH7KLVLVDOVRNQRZQDVWKHWZLVWVDQGWXUQVLQD
story. Finally, there is the dramatic irony, which is when the readers know more than the characters
in the story.
A short story that explores what a sad little girl wants is Merlinda Bobis’s “The Sadness Collector.”
Read and discover how six-year-old Rica deals with her desires—and the problems and ironies that
come along with it.
Merlinda Bobis is a dancer, visual artist, and writer who was born in Legaspi City, Albay. She
completed her post-graduate degrees from the University of Santo Tomas and the University of
:ROORQJRQJLQ$XVWUDOLD6KHZULWHVLQ(QJOLVKDQG)LOLSLQR7DJDORJDQG%LNRODQR6KHWDFNOHVWKHPHV
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She currently teaches at the Wollongong University.
Fig. 3.3. Merlinda Bobis

Source: http://resources3..com.au/images/2012/08/02/122643
9/129135-120804-rev-bobis.jpg
The Sadness Collector

By Merlinda Bobis
And she will not stop eating, another pot, another plate, another mouthful of sadness, and she will
grow bigger and bigger, and she will burst.
On the bed, six-year-old Rica braces herself, waiting for the dreaded explosion—
Nothing. No big bang. Because she’s been a good girl. Her tears are not even a mouthful tonight.
And maybe their neighbours in the run-down apartment have been careful, too. From every pot and
SODWHWKH\PXVWKDYHVFUDSHGRɣWKHLUOHIWRYHUVLJKVDQGKLGGHQWKHPVRPHZKHUHXQUHDFKDEOH6R%LJ
Lady can’t get to them. So she can be saved from bursting.
Every night, no big bang really, but Rica listens anyway.
The house is quiet again. She breathes easier, lifting the sheets slowly from her face—a brow just
unfurrowing, but eyes still wary and a mouth forming the old silent question—are you really there? She
turns on the lamp. It’s girlie kitsch like the rest of the decor, from the dancing lady wallpaper to the row
of Barbie dolls on a roseate plastic table. The tiny room is all pink bravado, hoping to compensate for
WKHZDUSHGFHLOLQJDQGVWDLQHGÀRRU(YHQWKHXQKLQJHGZLQGRZÀDXQWVDIDPLO\RISLQNSDSHUUDEELWV
Are you there?
Her father says she never shows herself to anyone. Big Lady only comes when you’re asleep to eat
your sadness. She goes from house to house and eats the sadness of everyone, so she gets too fat. But
there’s a lot of sadness in many houses, it just keeps on growing each day, so she can’t stop eating, and
she can’t stop growing too.
Are you really that big? How do you wear your hair?
Dios ko, if she eats all our mess, Rica, she might grow too fat and burst, so be a good girl and save
her by not being sad—hoy, stop whimpering, I said, and go to bed. Her father is not always patient with
his storytelling.
All quiet now. She’s gone.

Since Rica was three, when her father told her about Big Lady just after her mother left for Paris,
she was always listening intently to all the night—noises from the kitchen. No, that sound is not the
VFXUU\LQJRIPLFH²VKH¶VDFWXDOO\ FKHFNLQJWKHSODWHVQRZOLIWLQJ WKHOLGRɣWKHULFH SRWSHHNLQJLQWR
cups for sadness, both overt and unspoken. To Rica, it always tastes salty, like tears, even her father’s
funny look each time she asks him to read her again the letters from Paris.
She has three boxes of them, one for each year, though the third box is not even half-full. All of them
WLHGZLWK3DULVULEERQV7KH¿UVW\HDUKHUPRWKHUVHQWDOOFRORUVRIWKHUDLQERZIRUKHUORQJXQUXO\KDLU
maybe because her father did not know how to make it more graceful. He must have written her long
letters, asking about how to pull the mass of curls away from the face and tie them neatly the way he
gathered, into some semblance of order, his own nightly longings.
Reflect Upon
Where does Rica’s sadness come from? When you feel sadness, what do you do to cope with it?
___________________________________________________________________
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It took some time for him to perfect the art of making a ponytail. Then he discovered a trick
unknown to even the best hairdressers. Instead of twisting the bunch of hair to make sure it does not
come undone before it’s tied, one can rotate the whole body. Rica simply had to turn around in place,
while her father held the gathered hair above her head. Just like dancing, really.
She never forgets, talaga naman, the aunties whisper among themselves these days. A remarkable
child. She was only a little thing then, but she noticed all, didn’t she, never missed anything, committed
even details to memory. A very smart kid, but too serious, a sad kid.
They must have guessed that, recently, she has cheated on her promise to behave and save Big
Lady. But only on nights when her father comes home late and drunk, and refuses to read the old letters
from Paris—indeed, she has been a very good girl. She’s six and grown up now, so, even if his refusal has
PXOWLSOLHGEH\RQGKHUWHQ¿QJHUVVKHDOZD\VPDNHVVXUHWKDWKHUQLJKWO\WHDUVUHPDLQHGVPDOODQGIHZ
Like tonight, when she hoped her father would come home early, as he promised again. Earlier, Rica
watched TV to forget, to make sure the tears won’t amount to a mouthful. She hates waiting. Big Lady
hates that, too, because then she’ll have to clean up till the early hours of the morning.
Why Paris? Why three years—and even more? Aba, this is getting too much now. The aunties never
agree with her mother’s decision to work there, on a fake visa, as a domestic helper—ay naku, taking
care of other people’s children, while, across the ocean, her own baby cries herself to sleep? Talaga
naman! She wants to earn good money and build us a house. Remember, I only work in a factory... Her
father had always defended his wife, until recently, when all talk about her return was shelved. It seems
she must extend her stay, because her employer might help her to become “legal.” Then she can come
home for a visit and go back there to work some more—
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bed—the big one has returned? But she made sure the pot and plates were clean, even the cups, before
VKHZHQW WREHG 6KHWXUQVRɣ WKHODPS WROLVWHQ LQWKHGDUN ([SHFWDQWHDUV KXQJU\IRUWKH SKRQH¶V
overseas beep. Her mother used to call each month and write her postcards, also long love letters, even
if she couldn’t read yet. With happy snaps, of course. Earlier this year, she sent one of herself and the
new baby of her employer.
Cutlery noise. Does she also check them? This has never happened before, her coming back after a
lean meal. Perhaps, she’s licking a spoon for any trace of saltiness, searching between the prongs of a
fork. Unknown to Rica, Big Lady is wise, an old hand in this business. She senses that there’s more to
a mouthful of sadness than meets the tongue. A whisper of salt, even the smallest nudge to the palate,
can betray a century of hidden grief. Perhaps, she understands that, for all its practice, humanity can
never conceal the daily act of futility at the dinner table. As we feed continually, we also acknowledge
the perennial nature of our hunger. Each time we bring food to our mouths, the gut-emptiness that
ZHDWWHPSWWR¿OOLQHYLWDEO\FRQWDPLQDWHVRXUFXWOHU\SODWHVFXSV JODVVHVRXUZKROHWDEOH ,WLVWKLV
residual contamination, our individual portions of grief, that she eats, so we do not die from them—but
ZKDWLIZHGRQ¶WHDW"7KHQZHFDQFODLPVHOIVXɤFLHQF\DIXOOQHVVIURPELUWKSHUKDSV7KHQZHZRQ¶W
betray our hunger.
But Rica was not philosophical at four years old, when she had to be cajoled, tricked, ordered, then
VFROGHGVHYHUHO\EHIRUHVKH¿QLVKHGKHUPHDOLIVKHWRXFKHGLWDWDOO5LFDXQGHUVWRRGKHURFFDVLRQDO
hunger strikes quite simply. She knew that these dinner quarrels with her father, and sometimes her
aunties, ensured dire consequences. Each following day, she always made stick drawings of Big Lady
with an ever-increasing girth, as she was sure the lady had had a big meal the night before.
Mouth curved downward, she’s sad like her meals. No, she wears a smile, she’s happy because she’s
always full. Sharp eyes, they can see in the dark, lightbulb eyes, and big teeth for chewing forever. She
can hardly walk, because her belly’s so heavy, she’s pregnant with leftovers. No, she doesn’t walk, she
ÀLHVOLNHDJLDQWFORXGDQGVKH¶VQRWKHDY\DWDOOVKHRQO\ORRNVKHDY\$QGVKHGRHVQ¶WZDQWXVWREHVDG
so she eats all our tears and sighs. But she can’t starve, can she? Of course, she likes sadness, it’s food.
Fascination, fear and a kinship drawn from trying to save each other. Big Lady saves Rica from
sadness; Rica saves Big Lady from bursting by not being sad. An ambivalent relationship, confusing,
but certainly a source of comfort. And always Big Lady as object of attention. Those days when Rica
drew stick drawings of her, she made sure the big one was always adorned with pretty baubles and
make-up. She even drew her with a Paris ribbon to tighten her belly. Then she added a chic hat to
complete the picture.
Crimson velvet with a black satin bow. Quite a change from all the girlie kitsch—that her mother
had dredged from Paris’ unfashionable side of town? The day it arrived in the mail, Rica was about to
turn six. A perfect Parisienne winter hat for a tiny head in the tropics. It came with a bank-draft for her
party.
6KHGLGQRWWU\LWRQLWORRNHGVWUDQJHVRGLɣHUHQWIURPWKH%DUELHVDQGSLQNSDSHUUDEELWV7KLV
latest gift was unlike her mother, something was missing. Rica turned it inside out, searching—on TV,
Magic Man can easily pull a rabbit or a dove out of his hat, just like that, always. But this tale was not
part of her father’s repertoire. He told her not to be silly when she asked him to be Magic Man and pull
RXW3DULV²EXWFDQVKHHDWDVIDUDV3DULV"&DQVKHÀ\IURPKHUHWRWKHUHRYHUQLJKW"$UHWKHLUULFHSRWV
also full of sad leftovers? How salty?
Nowadays, her father makes sure he comes home late each night, so he won’t have to answer the
questions, especially about the baby in the photograph. So he need not to improvise further on his
three-year-old tall tale.
There it is again, the cutlery clunking against a plate—or scraping the bottom of a cup? She’s
searching for the hidden mouthfuls and platefuls and potfuls. Cupboards are opened. No, nothing there,
big one, nothing—Rica’s eyes are glued shut. The sheets rise and fall with her breathing. She wants to
leave the bed, sneak into the kitchen and check out this most unusual return and thoroughness.
That’s the rice pot being overturned—
Her breaths make and unmake a hillock on the streets—
$SODWHVKDWWHUVRQWKHÀRRU²
Back to a fetal curl, knees almost brushing chin—
Another plate crushes—
She screams—
The pot is hurled against the wall—
She keeps screaming as she ruins out of the room, down to the kitchen—
And the cutlery, glasses, cups, more plates—
Big Lady’s angry, Big Lady’s hungry, Big Lady’s turning the house upside down —
Breaking it everywhere—
Her throat is weaving sound, as if it were all that it never knew—
SHUT UP—!”
Big Lady wants to break all to get to the heart of the matter, where it’s the saltiest. In the vein of a
plate, within the aluminum bottom of a pot, in the copper fold of a spoon, deep in the curve of a cup’s
handle—
Ropes and ropes of scream—
“I SAID, SHUT UP!”
+HUFKHHNVWLQJV6KHFROODSVHVRQWKHÀRRUEHIRUHKLVIHHW

“I didn’t mean to, Dios ko po, I never meant to—“
Her dazed eyes make out the broken plates, the dented pot, the shards of cups, glasses, the cutlery
everywhere—
He’s hiccupping drunkenly all over her—
“I didn’t mean to, Rica, I love you, baby, I’ll never let you go—” His voice is hoarse with anger and
remorse.
“She came back, Papa—” Big Idea
Diaspora is currently
“She can’t take you away from me—” an ongoing situation in the
“She’s here again—” Philippines, as many migrant
Filipinos leave the country to
“Just because she’s ‘legal’ now—” work in more progressive nations
for their families. Economically,
“She might burst, Papa—” migration is a good thing, as
³7KDWZKRUH²´+LVKDQGVFXUOLQWR¿VWVRQKHUEDFN it brings in revenues for the
Philippine government. However,
Big Lady knows, has always known. This feast will last her a on a familial level, migration also
lifetime, if she does not burst tonight. brings families apart—for better
or worse.
Source: Bobis, Merlinda. White turtle. Sydney: Spinifex, Inc 1999.
:KDW GR \RX ¿QG ³LURQLF´ LQ WKH VKRUW VWRU\" 'R \RX DJUHH ZLWK WKH GHFLVLRQV WKDW ZHUH
undertaken by Rica’s father to shield her from the truth regarding her mother?
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
$QRWKHUELJHOHPHQWRI¿FWLRQLVWKHworld created by the writer. This world, as imagined by the

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WKH\LQWHUDFW WDONZLQORVH OHDYHRUVWD\LQ WKLVZRUOG,Q ¿FWLRQPRUHRIWHQ WKDQQRWWKHVH ZRUOG
and those in them have meanings or symbolisms, too. For example, a place may not just be a place—it
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through. Things inside the world —such as a vase, a letter, a picture, a mirror—may mean more than
mere objects. They may symbolize an important part of the story or may serve as objects of remembrance
or memories for the characters. If the whole story is a symbolism for something, then the story may be
an allegory. A good example of this is George Orwell’s novel, Animal Farm, which has symbolisms for
the animals in the barn and even the barn itself.
The Plot Structure of Fiction
Aristotle once declared that for a story to be considered a story, it must have a beginning, a
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interdependent parts of a story are all needed to create a whole. If one part is lost, the story cannot
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realized that plots of stories and even novels have common patterns which can be summarized in a
diagram. This is what he came up with:
Climax
Fa
n
llin
ti o
g
Ac
Ac
g
tio
sin
n
Ri
Exposition Denouement
Fig. 3.4. Gustav Freytag came up with a diagram showing the patterns
involving plot structure.
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memory, here is a brief breakdown of the following parts of the pyramid:
The exposition is the beginning of the story, wherein the writer sets the scene by introducing the
characters, describing the setting, and sometimes will give a brief background of the story. It is also
here, before the next part of the Freytag pyramid, that something happens to begin the action. This is
called the inciting incident²VPDOOHYHQWVDQGWHOOWDOHVLJQVWKDWWHOO\RXWKDWWKHFRQÀLFWLVDERXWWR
begin. It is also sometimes known as “the complication” of the story.
The rising action is when the complication begins to show itself on the characters, setting, and
events in the story. This is when the story starts to become more exciting.
The climax is the event with the greatest tension in the story. This is when the characters know the
truth, act on their impulses, make rash decisions or decide to do something, and so on. This part usually
signals how the story will end.
The falling action is the result of the climax, and it is the part when things start falling into place
for the characters. Reaching the conclusion of the story, the story reaches a premature resolution of
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Finally, the denouement is a French term that means the “ending.” This is where the story reaches
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what had happened and how characters think or feel about this.
Of course, the Freytag pyramid does not always apply to every single short story ever written. There
are some short stories, especially modern ones, which will lack or miss out on one part of the pyramid
and are still considered as stories. However, in learning about literature, it is always best that you start
with the Freytag pyramid so as to comprehend the deeper features of the story and its key elements—
WKRVHWKDWPDNHLWDQHɣHFWLYHDQGVDWLVI\LQJUHDG

Fig.3.5. Cheeno Marlo Sayuno
Cheeno Marlo Sayuno is a young writer of short stories for children based in Cavite. He has won
two awards from the Carlos Palanca Memorial Awards for Literature in the category of children’s short
VWRULHVLQ(QJOLVK³7KH 0DJLF%DKDJ´DQGLQ)LOLSLQR ³6L7L\D 6DORPH´+HZDVDOVRDQKRQRUDEOH
mention at the Salanga Prize, which is awarded by the Philippine Board on Books for Young People.
7KHQH[WVWRU\LVDVKRUWVWRU\IRUFKLOGUHQ5HDGLWDQGWKLQNRIKRZLWVNH\HYHQWVUHÀHFWWKH
elements of a Freytag pyramid.
The Magic Bahag
By: Cheeno Marlo Sayuno
“Im-pa-pas-ta-kun-rag-sak. Ya-a-ay, e-la e-la-lay,” Abeong sings between sighs and whispers
as the jeepney treads the rough roads downhill. It is only in Pasil, his hometown, where he ever has
had friends, and now, they are leaving the place forever.
The song plays on Abeong’s head like a symphony trapped by a wall that is his skull. He tries
to sleep only to be awaken as the jeepney bumps and jumps. He just then looks outside, but as the
sun greets the day with its rays that warm the skin of the early- morning travelers, he feels like it is
bidding him goodbye, teasing him even. For him, he will never see this giant ball of warmth the way
he sees it from mountainside Pasil. Whether Tabuk will give him the same view, he does not know
or care.
“Nana, do we really have to do this?” Abeong asks his mother, holding tighter to her as the
jeepney turns to a curve.
His mother sighs, “This is the only way. We can’t stay in Pasil forever. There is a good opportunity
for your father, and we cannot let it pass.”
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“This is for the better.”
Abeong looks away, gazing at the view of the hillside, where trees and roofs appear like patches
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voices of his playmates resonate in his head again, bringing back their laughter after Lindayaw, the
youngest girl, would jokingly belt out the last line of the song, even when she knows that singing is
not her talent.
“But my friends, they have been my friends for years.”
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coconut-husk-like hair. “The school there is big. You can have all the friends that you want.”
“I don’t even want to go to school.”
“You know you have to,” says his mother, clutching him closer to her.
His Nana’s embrace always gives him comfort, but this time, no matter how he tries, Abeong
cannot get Pasil out of his head. Everything that he sees and hears reminds him of Pasil.
The huts clutching on the hillside remind him of the Binayon hut that they have for a school,
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spent with Ms. Legaspi, a teacher volunteer from Manila, when they would read tales about the
bullied skinny kid who saved the town or the engkantada from the lake, who fell in love with the
chieftain’s son.
The chirping of the crickets echoes in his mind the same harmony that used to be his only
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leaves or hidden behind a bunch of gabi plants. The cascading river reconnects him to the splashes
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The tweeting of the birds now joins that of the crickets, humming in his heart the songs he and
his friends used to sing. In fact, the folk song that they learned before he left keeps on resonating
in his head.
Reflect Upon
Have you ever experienced migrating to another place or transferring to a new school?
How does it feel? If you have not experienced it yet, how would you face this situation?
______________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________
Abeong knows that he has to understand everything, as Nana told him, but what can he do?
He is starting to hate everyone even more as the view of Pasil becomes smaller and smaller. He
hates those men in orange polo shirts who visited their village to recruit men who would work for a
construction project in Isabela, near the boundaries of Tabuk City. He hates the elders of their little
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just because he had no job other than hunting. When he can no longer see Pasil, tears start welling
XSLQKLVH\HVKHUXEVWKHPRɣ
“Nana, do I have extra shorts that I can use for school Big Idea
tomorrow?” Abeong asks his mother, who is hanging washed For people outside a
clothes that Sunday afternoon, a week after they have moved community, wearables such as the
to Pasil. bahag might be seen as a costume.
For people who are part of these
“Well, yes,” his mother says, “but why? You can wear your communities, however, these
bahag. The school allows pupils to wear it.” items are part of the daily life and
a symbol of their culture.
Rumpling the front end of the bahag he is wearing,
Abeong says, “I don’t want to wear my bahag.”
“And why is that?” her mom faces him, hands on her waist, a little taken aback.

“Nothing. I just don’t want them to laugh at me,” he says, plucking out a loose thread from his
bahag.
“They will not laugh at you,” her mother assures him as she hangs a blanket on the clothesline.
“They would, just like in Ms. Legaspi’s stories. Just please let me wear shorts, Nana.”
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from outside. He has been tossing and turning on their papag for almost an hour now, as he is not
yet comfortable in their makeshift bunkhouse. His banig back home would still do a better job
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“You have to sleep early, you know,” his father speaks, sitting beside him.
“I know, Tata. I close my eyes, and still, I can’t sleep,” Abeong tries closing his eyes even harder.
“Let me tell you, Abeong,” Tata says, “you don’t have to worry about tomorrow. But if you still
do, then I think it’s time.”
“Time? For what?” Abeong’s forehead curls, puzzled by what his father is trying to say.
His father rummages under their bed, reaching for a small box with lizard-symbol prints and
a padlock.
“Is that a present? New shorts?”
His father shakes his head. “This is a bahag. But mind you, this is not an ordinary one. This was
worn by my father and my father’s father and my father’s father’s father. It has been passed down
from one generation to the next.”
As Tata opens the lock, Abeong pouts. He does not want to wear bahag tomorrow, let alone
wear an old one. He thinks that the already-threadbare bahag would be stinking because it was kept
LQVLGHWKHER[IRU\HDUVDQG1DQDZRXOGKDYHWRZDVKLW¿UVW7KHUHLVQRZD\WKDWKHLVJRLQJWR
wear it. Not tomorrow. Not ever.
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it is a treasure from a huge chest all moldy and damp after being taken from the depths of the
engkatada’s lake. The bahag is like no other; the red cloth glistens before Abeong’s eyes, and the
patterns of black, white, and yellow play in that red stream. To him, the old bahag is magical.
“It was when I wore this bahag that I started becoming the best hunter in Pasil. I was a short
boy and I was clumsy, not even able to catch a chicken,” his father shares, his eyes shining with
H[FLWHPHQW³EXWWKLVEDKDJPDGHPHEHFRPHVWURQJDQGFRQ¿GHQW7KHUHZDVDP\VWHULRXVPDJLF
spell that I cannot explain whenever I wear this. The same happened to our forefathers when they
owned this.”
“Wow,” Abeong exclaims, his eyes widening. “And now, it is all yours,” Tata says as Abeong
reaches for the family treasure.
Abeong’s worry turns to thrill when he wakes up the next day. He takes a bath right away, and
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veins as he walks, chin up and hands swaying, even galloping by the sidewalk. This bahag is indeed
magical, he tells himself.
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subject.
“Hello. My name is Carlo.” “I am Jessica.” “You can call me Maria.” “I’m John.”
When Abeong’s turn comes, he stands chin up and walks to the front like he is no new student.
“Hi, I’m Eon!” Abeong introduces himself using his new self-thought nickname, thinking it can
KHOSKLP¿WLQDQGEHFRRO
During recess, Eon approaches a group of boys and girls laughing while eating their snacks.
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“Well, I am the best hunter in Pasil,” he butts in, “May I join you?” If not for the bahag, he can
never talk to a big group like this, but he does anyway. He does not feel shy at all.
“Hi, Eon,” Maria says, “You did well in Math earlier. And also in Science. You recite and recite.
And now, you’re a hunter, too. You must be the best kid in your hometown.”
“Well, we don’t have classes like this in Pasil; I only took a special test so that I can be in grade
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mimicking a hunter ready to shoot with his imaginary bow and arrow.
“Wow, that’s fun! Can you tell us more about it?” Carlo says as their other classmates gather.
Eon cannot believe that he can make a bunch of his classmates laugh and listen to him on
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slightest glint of awkwardness. This bahag is indeed magical, he tells himself.
In the afternoon, during their PE class, the boys split into two teams to play basketball. The girls
cheer whenever one shoots, hoops or blocks an opponent’s shot. Eon had barely played basketball
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rejoice and praise him as they lift and toss him up and down. He is still shocked. This bahag is
indeed magical, he tells himself.
Search online for a traditional song from the Cordilleras, the Southern Tagalog, the Visayas
islands, or from the tribes of Mindanao. Together with your group mates, learn the song. Be
ready to perform it in class as a group.
“Im-pa-pas-ta-kun-rag-sak. Ya-a-ay, e-la e-la-lay,” the kids sing in chorus as they walk home
after class. With arms on the shoulder of another forming one horizontal line, they laugh and sing
on the top of their voices. Eon knows the song; for him, it carries his best memories. It reminds him
of Bochok leading the song and Lindayaw ending it out of pitch, sending everyone laughing. Then
they would start all over again as they tried to perfect it.
It rekindles the memories of Pasil and all his friends there. But now, Carlo and John are singing
it louder, and the girls laugh because they are out of tune. It also makes him laugh, and so he reaches
for John’s shoulder, chanting as loud as they do. This bahag is indeed magical, he tells himself.
³+H\DUH\RXJRLQJWRZHDUEDKDJDJDLQWRPRUURZ"´-RKQDVNV(RQEHIRUHWXUQLQJWRDGLɣHUHQW
route home.
“Yes. Why? There’s nothing wrong with this. This is who we are,” Eon says. I couldn’t believe I
just said that, he tells himself, charging it to the powers of his bahag.
“Well, nothing. See you tomorrow!” John runs to the others as they disperse homeward. “He
would still wear it.” “Come on, let’s wear ours, too.” Eon hears the distant chatters of his classmates.
He smiles and walks away.
Upon reaching home, Eon runs to his father and mother, wanting to share his story right away.

“Nana, Nana, I can’t believe it. I had a lot of friends already and I recited in classes. I was always
raising my hand and I got the right answers! Can you believe it?” he says, hugging his mother.
“Tata! Tata! I was the best in class today. I even had lots of friends and they listened to my
stories! I was even the best player in basketball!” he hugs his father. “Thank you for your magic
bahag!”
Tata and Nana smile at him as he tells his stories. “That is not a magic bahag, Abeong,” his
father admits.
“It was you who has the magic,” Nana follows.
Abeong did not say anything for a while. Then, he smiles and hugs his parents again, this time
even tighter.
That night, he takes out all his notebooks and lays them on his bed. One after another, he
changes the name written on each of them to his real name. He does not need to be Eon after all.
The next day, Abeong bathes early, humming his classmates’ chant. He takes out a fresh bahag
IURPKLVGUDZHUDQGZHDUVLW+HUXVKHVWRVFKRROIHHOLQJWKHHQHUJ\ÀRZLQJWKURXJKKLVYHLQVDV
he walks, chin up and hands swaying, even galloping by the sidewalk.
He sees the sun greeting the day with its rays that warm the skin of the people walking early
that morning, and he feels like this giant ball of warmth welcomes him to his new home.
Source: Sayuno, C.M.M. (2014). The Magic Bahag. Lampara Publishing House.
Activity:
Following the Freytag pyramid, create your own pyramid using Cheeno Marlo Sayuno’s story,
“The Magic Bahag.” Share what you have created with your group mates. Based on your discussions,
create the Freytag pyramid on a slide presentation so that you can present your consolidated
¿QGLQJVLQFODVV
The Cultural Center of the Philippines is hosting a theater festival. Your theater company,
where you are a performer, will be joining this year’s festival with a musical adaptation of F. Sionil
Jose’s “The God Stealer.” So, your director wants the whole company to divide into groups and pick
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fransico-sionil-jose.html to read the play. You will perform your chosen scene in musical form.
Make sure that you have rehearsed well your short showcase. Also, ensure that you are able to
tell the portion of the story in such a way that you still convey the message of the original literary
piece. Be ready to perform your scene in a showcase, where the best group will be part of the cast to
represent the theater company to the festival.
The short stories in this module are only a sampling of the rich Filipino short stories that you
may enjoy. Most of them may be found in your school library. If not, they are also available online
through these websites:
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Essential Learning
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and how they interact with the world around them. These characters show the best and worst of
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behind by a parent, colonial mentality, and so much more. These characters, no matter who they
are, all represent a part of you as a Filipino student. These are your attitudes, words, thoughts, and
actions on paper. This is who you are and who you will be in.
More importantly, short stories of the Philippines tell that no matter how life changes for the
Filipinos, the tenacity to survive will always be there. It is interesting to see that the characters in
the short stories were always in uncomfortable situations, yet they always survived in the end. This
is an important Filipino trait that teaches you, dear student, to always persevere no matter what the
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good or bad, there will still be a conclusion, one that can get you up on that pyramid and start all
over again.

Module
4 In an Ocean of Emotions: Philippine Drama

1. Appreciate the contribution of the canonical Filipino writers to the development of
national literature.
2. Explain the relationship of context with the text’s meaning.
3. Situate the text in the context of the region and the nation.
4. Choose appropriate multimedia forms of interpreting a literary text.
5. Do self- and/or peer-assessment of the creative adaptation of a literary text, based on
rationalized criteria, prior to presentation.
The History of Philippine Theater

Philippine theater began just like any other genre of literature—with precolonial indigenous drama.
These constitute rituals, verbal jousts or games, and songs and dances praising their respective gods.
Eventually, when the Spaniards came, these indigenous dramas were discarded and were changed
into mainly two categories: the comedy or komedya and the zarzuela or sarswela. These were dramas
that were used to capture the imaginations and hearts of the Filipinos, whom the Spaniards have just
colonized. Aside from providing entertainment to the people from the pueblos DQG DOVR FDSWXULQJ
WKHLUDɣHFWLRQWKHVHDOVRVHUYHDVWHDFKLQJWRROVIRUWKHUHOLJLRQWKDWWKH\EURXJKWZLWKWKHPZKLFKLV
Christianity.
Before the stage plays began though, there were also predramatic forms present in Philippine
theater before. There were loas, declamaciones, and oraciones RU GHFODPDWLRQV DQG RUDWLRQV WKDW
usually involved only one person and were not as dramatical as a stage play. They were usually done
during the arrival or installation of a holy relic in the country back then.
Eventually, the komedya ZDV GHYHORSHG LQWR GLɣHUHQW NLQGV 2QH RI WKH PRVW SRSXODU RQHV LV
the moro-moro, which are plays that depict the lives, loves, and wars of Moors and Christians. Two
more kinds, indigenized by the Filipinos, are the comedia de capa y espada or secular comedy and the
comedia de santo or religious comedies. Some of these comedies are still found in the country, namely,
Parañaque City and Iligan City.
The zarzuela is a type of theater that is musical in nature— Big Idea
LW LV ERWK VSRNHQ DQG VXQJ 7KH ¿UVW ]DU]XHOD LQ WKH 3KLOLSSLQHV The theater is a product of
ZDV VWDJHG LQ  RU  DQG ZDV ZULWWHQ E\ )UDQFLVFR $VQMR the collaboration among writers,
Barbieri in 1855, entitled Jugar Con FuegoPlay with Fire(YHQ artists, performers, creators,
Jose Rizal wrote his own zarzuela, entitled “Junto Al Pasig” and directors, musicians, and other
purveyors of art. Imagine the
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Zorilla was inaugurated as the home of zarzuelas. Of course, a play or a musical! So we should
Filipinos also indigenized the zarzuela and called it the sarswela. appreciate theater performances,
It became a mix or music, prose, dance, dialogue, and a discussion and watch them with the respect
of contemporary subjects. that they deserve.
Nowadays, Philippine theater has changed and incorporated

many modern elements to keep it relevant to its growing audience. It still attacks contemporary issues
and portrays the real lives of Filipinos here and abroad. But it also went back to some of its roots such
as music and dance. More recently, Liza Magtoto’s Rak of Aegis and its unprecedented success showed
that Filipinos are still craving for plays that feature not only contemporary and important issues, but
also fun, music, and dance.
The playwrights’ group called Writer’s Bloc has been actively inviting young playwrights to also
have their unpublished plays staged in a professional setting, namely, the Cultural Center of the
Philippines or CCP. These playwrights have been annually staging the Virgin Labfest, an avenue for
new playwrights to submit their plays and have them staged with professional directors, actresses, and
props. The event has also revolutionized modern Philippine theater because not only does it open up
the stage for braver and more current issues, it also keeps Philippine theater alive and relevant. Now,
every year, the Virgin Labfest attracts a diverse group of audiences and the plays that are part of it run
to a sold-out crowd.
The class will be divided into two groups, and each group will be divided into four smaller
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Apple” by Alberto Florentino. You can access the script at https://ischoolsericsonalieto.wordpress.
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reader’s theater is a group technique of storytelling, where readers read from a script according
to assigned parts. The teacher will be assigning the parts of the play that each of the group will
perform, while the respective groups can decide which character they want to assume. Make sure
that you focus on expressive voices and gestures in your performance.
What are the types of Philippine theater performances in the past and at present? Name as
many as you can. Summarize the information that you have gathered here and from other references
in a table.
Sample Images
Types of Theater
Description Notable Examples or Links to Video
Performance
Performances

Fig. 4.1. Layeta Bucoy
Source: http://lifestyle.inquirer.net/214517/layeta-bucoy-5-time-
palanca-winner-is-also-a-star-trek-i-love-lucy-fan/
Another play that deals with contemporary social issues is The Adopted Healthy Baby by Layeta
Bucoy.
/D\HWD%XFR\LVDPXOWLDZDUGHGSOD\ZULJKWZKRKDVZRQ¿YH3DODQFDDZDUGVIRUEllas Inocentes
LQ Doc Resurreccion: Gagamutin ang BayanLQ  El Galeon de SimeonLQ DQG The
Adopted Healthy Baby LQ  ZKLFK DUH DOO LQ WKH )LOLSLQR 2QH$FW 3OD\ FDWHJRU\ DV ZHOO DV Ang
Repleksyon ni Ms. TrajanoLQWKH)LOLSLQR7HOHSOD\FDWHJRU\LQ6KHKDVDOVRVWDJHGPDQ\SOD\V
adaptations, and children’s musicals, such as Walang Kukurap; Kleptomaniacs; adaptations of Titus
Andronicus and Bona;8RG%XWHWHDWVL0\UQD; Melanie; and Prinsipe Munti, which is an adaptation
of The Little Prince, among others. She teaches theater and writing at the University of the Philippines
Los Baños, where she is also a University Artist.
Read one of the works of Layeta Bucoy, and discuss the contemporary issue that the play wants
to convey.
The Adopted Healthy Baby

By Layeta Bucoy
Characters:
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the door is Mila’s desk. Her bag – big hand bag which carries folders and large envelopes – is on
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some are loose sheets. Howell’s bag is on this desk with several books, and picture frames. An old
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by an old refrigerator and a little plastic rack with plates, glasses, cups, spoons, forks, and folded
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books, bounded manuscripts, papers in folders and envelopes. Mila is placing the things on the
desk near the window in the empty boxes. Howell is trying to open the locked topmost drawer of
WKH¿OLQJFDELQHW7KHRWKHUWKUHHGUDZHUVDUHDOUHDG\RSHQ
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won’t be able to carry this out.
Mila: We’ll ask the janitors to help us.
Howell: They’re in the auditorium.
Mila: We only need a few minutes.
Howell: There’s a stage play, Ma’am.
Mila: The play can go on for a few minutes without them.
Howell: They’re doubling as technicians.
Mila: Then we’ll have to carry everything out ourselves.
Howell: You’ll just hurt yourself, Ma’am.
Mila: I’m not a weakling.
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shiny, it can double as a mirror. My God! I can see my open pores.
Mila: You’re exaggerating.
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Mila: We’ll ask the students at the lobby to help us then.
Howell: There may not be any student loitering at the lobby at this hour, Ma’am.
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Howell: What if they’re watching the play?
Mila: They’re Chemistry majors, Howell.
Howell: Chemistry majors are not banned from watching stage plays, Ma’am.
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Howell: What if they were required to watch the play?
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director requires students to watch plays. Ma’am Cora got nine thousand last sem. That
was just for one play alone. Four sections of large class. She was even thankful for doing
it. She was able to pay for her granddaughter’s therapy, she said. The one with ADHD,
remember? The little girl in pig tails who barged in here, dragging her big rag doll while
VLQJLQJimitates the child³6RGDUOLQJGDUOLQJVWDQGE\PH2KVWDQGE\PH2KVWDQG
stand by me, stand by me!”
Mila: She was singing Cora’s favourite song.
+RZHOO Continues running around and singing³:KHQHYHU\RX¶UHLQWURXEOHZRQ¶W\RX
VWDQGE\PHRKVWDQGE\PHRKVWDQGQRZVWDQGE\PH´He deliberately slips<RX
don’t want to be like her.
Of course I don’t want to have ADHD.
Howell: I mean, you don’t want to slip like her, Ma’am.
Mila: That’s why we’ll ask help from those students who may be conducting study groups at
the lobby.
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grandmother who required her classes to watch a play.
Mila: Cora’s always been corruptible.

Howell: She’s just being compassionate, Ma’am.
Mila: Requiring Chemistry classes to watch a play? That’s not being compassionate. That’s
EHLQJJUHHG\ZLWKWKHSHVRVSHUWLFNHWFXW
Howell: She wasn’t only thinking about her granddaughter. She was also trying to help the
theatre students.
Mila: She never cared about theatre or its majors. She was in it for the money.
Howell: So what, Ma’am? She earns, they earn. Everybody’s happy.
Mila: It’s not right.
Howell: Because there’s money involved?
Mila: Yes. The plays staged here have nothing to do with Chemistry. Chemistry teachers
require their students to watch those plays because they get a cut for each ticket they
sell. They don’t even talk about those plays in class or in our meetings.
Howell: But there’s no damage done, Ma’am. The students are not complaining.
Mila: Because they’re given bonus points.
Howell: From writing reaction papers and appreciating theatre.
Mila: We’re talking of Chemistry classes, Howell. Even bonuses should have something to do
with Chemistry.
(Beat. Mila continues boxing things. Howell starts boxing things, too.)
Howell: Now I understand why people call you rigid.

Mila: Because I always do the right thing.
Howell: Your formal complaint against Ma’am Cora was dismissed by the Dean.
Mila: Dean Ramos also requires his classes to watch plays.
Howell: In support of theatre.
Mila: He’s a statistician.
Howell: Anyone can support theatre.
Mila: He’s also doing it for the money.
Howell: What if the money he gets helps in waking his wife up from her coma?
Mila: It still won’t make it right.
Howell: Ma’am Mendoza required her classes, too.
Mila: She always had a soft heart. Those theatre students must have shed a tear or two.
+RZHOO <RXGLGQRW¿OHDQ\FRPSODLQWDJDLQVWKHU
Mila: Because she didn’t do it for the money.
Howell: It becomes right then when it’s done out of pity.
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want. I’m not giving you the key.
Howell: She’s dead, Ma’am. No one is going to use her research. I’m the only one who needs it.
It’s hand written. The only copy. I’ll publish it under my name. No one will ever know
but us. Please, Ma’am. Give me the key.
Mila: I won’t allow you, Howell. That drawer is to remain locked. Now, why don’t you go to the
lobby and see if there are students loitering there?
Beat. Howell goes out. Mila continues boxing things. Her cell phone rings. Its ringing tone
is an ordinary one taken from the common list of ringing tones in cell phones. Mila gets her cell
phone from her bag. She answers the call.)
Mila: Hello? Yes, Dad ... No, we’re still boxing Ma’am Mendoza’s things ... Yes, but Val texted
KH¶VVWLOOFDXJKWLQWKHWUDɤF$QKRXUPRUHPD\EH1R%HQMLHLVQRWZLWKPH+H¶V
still in the lab ... He can’t force organometallics to catalyse even if it’s for his thesis ...
No, don’t wait for us. You have to take your medicines by seven. Eat your dinner now
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throat since Benjie was born ... No, Val won’t join us for dinner. It’s a three-hour drive.
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... Now, stop with your excuses, Dad. We’ll have meat once your arteries are de-clogged
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... Dad, Dad, listen. You know I have to keep you alive ‘til we visit Mabel and Marnie at
Texas next year. We’ll take Benjie with us then show them where they were all conceived
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medicines, I’ll be home in an hour. Bye, Dad.
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She gives up after two attempts. Then, she starts pushing it. Howell enters.
Howell: Just three students.

0LOD 7KUHHLV¿QH
Howell: All girls.
0LOD 3XVKHVWKH¿OLQJFDELQHW:HGRQ¶WQHHGWRFDUU\WKLVDIWHUDOO
Howell: The girls said they’re going to a party.
Mila: It’s a party, Howell. They can be a little late.
Howell: They were also required.
Mila: Even attending parties are required now?
Howell: Dean Ramos required them.
Mila: He must be desperate.
Howell: Do you know how much does it cost to keep someone who’s in a coma alive, Ma’am?
Mila: I know about your mother, Howell.
Howell: But do you know how much I pay for just to keep her alive?
0LOD <RX¶UHQRWWKHRQO\RQHZKRKDV±
Howell: Where will I get the money when I lose my job?
Mila: You want to keep your mother alive by doing something wrong.
Howell: What choice do I have?
Mila: Find another job. Find two jobs if that’s what it takes.
Howell: I’ve been teaching here for ten years now.
0LOD 7KHQ¿QGDQRWKHUWHDFKLQJMRE
Howell: Schools aren’t hiring now.
Mila: There are other jobs.
Howell: Teaching Chemistry is the only thing I know.
0LODGRHVQRWUHSO\6KHFRQWLQXHVER[LQJWKLQJV+RZHOOWULHVWRSXOOWKHWRSPRVWGUDZHURIWKH
¿OLQJFDELQHWRQFHPRUH
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Things were built to outlive their owners. That cabinet is durable because it’s strong. No
amount of pulling can make you open that locked drawer.
Howell: Give me the key, then.
Mila: I won’t allow you to steal.
Howell: You were quiet the whole time.
Mila: You weren’t stealing before.

Howell: About the other wrong things.
Mila: They weren’t wrong.
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I wasn’t even a Chem. major. I was an Educ. grad who had English for a major and
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nowhere else to go! I don’t even have money to go back to our province! We are so poor,
Ma’am! Please accept me!” I hugged her waist. “Ma’am! Please pity me! Please pity me!”
0LOD Detaches herself from Howell*HWKROGRI\RXUVHOI+RZHOO
Howell: I got in because of pity.
Mila: Ma’am Mendoza saw your potential in your teaching demo.
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me. Everyone knew that.
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Mila: You already survived teaching here for ten years. She was right. You had potential.
+RZHOO *RHV WR KLV EDJ JHWV OHFWXUH QRWHV $QG \RX NQRZ KRZ , VXUYLYHG" %HFDXVH RI KHU
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Organic Chemistry. Even my students knew I knew nothing about it. They were bullying
me in class, making fun of my incompetence. You heard about the complaints I got in
the student eval. Ma’am Cora didn’t want to renew me. But Ma’am Mendoza asked her
to give me another sem. She promised to guide me.
Mila: And she guided you with these notes. Nothing wrong with that.
Howell: Read those notes, Ma’am. Read them thoroughly. They’re not lecture notes. They are
scripts. Ma’am Mendoza wrote me scripts. Even jokes and answers to questions students
may raise are there. All I had to do was memorize those scripts, deliver them, and voila!
They got me through years and years of student evaluations.
0LOD :KLOHEURZVLQJWKURXJKWKHOHFWXUHQRWHV7KHVHDUHEXWJXLGHV+RZHOO6XJJHVWLRQV
Ways you can handle your classes.
Howell: She fed me everything.
Mila: You were still the one who faced your classes.
Howell: Everything I told them did not come from me.
Mila: She told you what to say but you were still the one who said those things. You were still
the one who taught your students. Did she hold your classes for you?
Howell: She allowed me to own her words.
0LOD /HFWXUHQRWHVDUHGLɣHUHQWIURPDUHVHDUFKSDSHU
Howell: But she was generous.
Mila: Not to the point of allowing you to publish her research output under your name.
Howell: But that’s the only way for me to keep my job.
Mila: You only believe that because you refuse to look for other options.
+RZHOO 6HDUFKHVKLVEDJ+DYH\RXUHDGWKHPHPR"
Mila: What memo?
+RZHOO *HWV D PHPR IURP KLV EDJ VKRZV LW WR 0LOD 7KH\¶UH VWUHDPOLQLQJ QRZ . 7KH\
already got rid of the Filipino Department. Language Center? Ha! Just a way to quash
the Filipino Department. Only the tenured Filipino professors were saved. I thought
I’d be safe here in Chemistry. But look at Dean Ramos’ memo. Only tenured faculty
members are to remain next school year. I’m up for tenure this sem, Ma’am. But they’re
asking for a publication in a refereed journal. How can I get published? That journal
which Ma’am Cora edits even rejected me.
Mila: Then submit to other journals.
Howell: I already did. It’s the same thing. Rejection after rejection.
Mila: Fine tune your research.
Howell: I’ve been revising it for the whole year. One journal said it’s not credible. Another said
the conclusion is not valid. Ma’am Cora told me it’s sophomoric, not even at par with
an ordinary undergrad thesis. If Ma’am Mendoza didn’t become bed-ridden this year,
she would have fed me with a research paper, got me published, and I’ll be done with my
tenure.
Mila: She didn’t give you the key, Howell. She gave it to me.
+RZHOO .QHHOVEHIRUH0LODFULHV7KDW¶VZK\,¶PEHJJLQJ\RX3OHDVH0D¶DP+DYHPHUF\RQ
me. My mother is still in a coma. My younger sister dropped out of college. My older
brother lost his wife. I’m taking care of him and his three children. I have no one to run
to. All my relatives are poorer than me. This job is the only thing I have. This job is the
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darling, stand by me! Oh stand by me! Oh stand, stand by me, stand by me!”
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Mila: I want you to stop making a fool of yourself.
Howell: But that’s how I’ve been surviving here, Ma’am. Being a fool. Making people laugh.
Running errands. All these things, all these things belonging to Ma’am Mendoza, I was
the one who transferred all of these down here. She had a lot of adopted babies here. But
I was the only one she asked to carry all her things here.
Mila: She didn’t trust her other babies with her things. She trusted you. You were her favourite,
her adopted healthy baby.
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Howell ... Have these manuscripts bounded, Howell ... Please encode this for me ... Can
you get me some water? ... Some food . . .” And all I said was “yes, Ma’am ... yes, Ma’am
... yes, Ma’am.”
Mila: You resented the small favours she asked you?
Howell: I did not resent them, Ma’am. I’m just telling you that no one here took me seriously.
Not Dean Ramos, not Ma’am Cora, not you, and not even Ma’am Mendoza. All of you
DUHQLFHWRPHEHFDXVH\RXWKLQNWKDW,¶PQLFH)XQQ\DWWLPHV6WDQGVRQWRSRIRQHRI
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know how many times Ma’am Cora and our other colleagues asked me to entertain them
whenever they felt bored?
Mila: Howell, that’s just your way of getting along with our colleagues.
Howell: I’m so funny that they allowed me to take my master’s in some diploma mill.
Mila: Ma’am Mendoza wanted you to study here.
Howell: But I begged her. I had to study near our house so I can take care of my mother. Her
health was already declining during that time. It wasn’t the whole truth, Ma’am. I was
scared. I knew I wasn’t too bright.
Mila: Point is, you still earned a master’s degree.
Howell: From a diploma mill.
Mila: You still earned it.
Howell: Ma’am Mendoza got her Ph.D. from Cornell, you got yours from Texas, Ma’am Cora got
KHUVIURP$XVWUDOLDRXUFROOHDJXHVDUHOLQLQJXSDWWKH2ɤFHRI,QWHUQDWLRQDO/LQNDJHV
to get scholarships abroad. Tell me, Ma’am. Was it right to allow me to get my master’s
from some obscure college you haven’t even heard of?

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Howell: My thesis is garbage.
Mila: Don’t say that.
Howell: That’s why I couldn’t get any of its part published.
Mila: Howell, listen now. Yes, you are nice. You’re funny. People here know that. But you’re
one of Ma’am Mendoza’s adopted babies. She didn’t take just about anyone under her
wings. Cora is not one of her adopted babies. She found her lacking in brilliance. She
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it yet, you are brilliant.
Howell searches through some of the boxes. Mila continues boxing things. Howell then goes to
WKHERRNVKHOIORRNVIRUDSDUWLFXODUERRN+H¿QGVLWJHWVWKHERRNIURPWKHVKHOIDQG
shows it to Mila.
Howell: Remember this?
0LOD Opens the book 2K \HV /LSDVHFDWDO\]HG LUUHYHUVLEOH WUDQVHVWHUL¿FDWLRQV 0D¶DP
Mendoza was so proud of this.
Howell: Authored by her other babies, Owen and Ritzel. Remember them?
0LOD <HV,GRTakes one of the framed pictures from the desk near the window, shows it to
Howell7KLVLV2ZHQULJKW"+HZDVUHDOO\VNLQQ\WKHQ$QGWKLVLV5LW]HO"7KHRQHZKR
resigned after calling Cora a leech sucking the dean’s ass in one of the faculty meetings?
+RZHOO Takes the book7KH\DXWKRUHGWKLV2QWKHLURZQ0HUHLQVWUXFWRUVDWWKDWWLPH%XW
they were already able to author a book.
0LOD Still looking at the picture<RXURɤFHDWWKHWKLUGÀRRUZDVUHDOO\QLFH0D¶DP0HQGR]D
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Big windows. Lots of fresh air. Far from the noise of the students who loiter the lobby.
Diabetes could be so cruel. If her right leg did not get amputated, she would have loved
WRVWD\LQ\RXURɤFHLQVWHDGRIWUDQVIHUULQJKHUH
Howell: You’re not listening, Ma’am.
Mila: Your contemporaries were able to author a book when they were still instructors. Now,
it’s your time to get published. As simple as that.
Howell: Owen and Ritzel, they’re really brilliant. You, Ma’am. You’re Ma’am Mendoza’s adopted
baby, too. And no one will question your brilliance. But me? I’m just nice and funny.
Mila: For someone your size, you keep on belittling yourself.
Howell: But it’s true, Ma’am. She never saw any brilliance in Big Idea
PH%LUGVRIWKHVDPHIHDWKHUÀRFNWRJHWKHU<HV,
Just like other fields, the
also heard her say that. Several times, Ma’am. And theater has its own set of jargon:
each time I’d ask her what kind of feather she saw terminology that is common to
RQPHVKH¶GMXVWODXJKDQGVD\± people in the same field.
Mila: Yours is the most special.
Howell: She told you?
Mila: Yes. Several times.
Howell: Then you know it’s not the feather of brilliance?
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gave me the key.
(Beat. Mila goes to the refrigerator, opens its door and takes a pitcher of water. She takes a
glass from the plastic rack and pours water in it. Howell goes back to boxing things from the book
shelf.
Howell: She didn’t want me to transfer all these books here. She said they should stay in our
RɤFHVR,FRXOGUHDGWKHPDOO
Mila: If you’re thirsty I have cold water and orange juice here.
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Howell: I didn’t understand any of these books.
Mila: You’re a funny guy, Howell. Self-pity doesn’t suit you.
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catches Howell’s attention. He approaches the roaster.
Howell: Is this Sir Ben’s roaster?
Mila: Just a prototype.
Howell: Your husband is a genius.
Mila: You sent your sister to check on this last week.
Howell: Hilda was raving about this. She said it’s perfect for small scale roasting, perfect for a
VPDOOFRɣHHVKRS
Mila: She said she wanted to have one.
Howell: And that Sir Ben’s introducing this to the market.
Mila: Yes, he’s calling it Benjie’s roaster.
Howell: And what about Marnie and Mabel?
Mila: What about them?
Howell: Sir Ben’s naming this after your youngest child. Marnie and Mabel may get jealous.
Mila: Oh, they’ll have their own products named after them.
Howell: Because they’re brilliant.
Mila: What do you mean?
Howell: They’re both pursuing their PhDs at Texas A&M, where you and Sir Ben both got yours.
Marnie was summa. Mabel was magna. And Benjie…
Mila: Benjie is extended. You can say it. I’m not ashamed of it.
Howell: You’re favoring your weakest child.
Mila: We don’t consider him weak.
+RZHOO %XWFRPSDUHGWRKLVVLVWHUV±
Mila: We don’t practice favoritism, Howell.
Howell: Then you’re not like Ma’am Mendoza.
Mila: She didn’t play favorites, too.
Howell: But she did, Ma’am. She did.
Mila: Val was a year ahead of me at Philippine Science. Vito was a year younger. I did not
recall them mentioning that their mother was playing favorites.
Howell goes to the desk near the window. He gets the framed picture Mila showed him a
while ago.)
Howell: And then there’s Vic, the black sheep.

0LOD Approaches Howell, looks at the picture6KHGLGQ¶WFDOOKLPEODFNVKHHS
Howell: But she wanted to.
Mila: How could you have known that?
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talked about Val and Vito. How proud she was of the two. She even showed me the
news clipping she framed. The one in the business section where Val was mentioned as

Unilab’s new VP. And Vito. Who won’t be proud of Vito? Topped the med board, became
one of the few neurosurgeons in the country. She hang the framed news clip about Vito
topping the med board on the wall behind her desk. Framed news clippings for the two.
And just a framed picture of Vic. He’s her black sheep, Ma’am.
Mila: You’re over reading her actions.
+RZHOO %XWWUXH9LFLVDOUHDG\LQKLVIRUWLHV$QGVWLOOKHLV±
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Howell: As a call center agent?
Mila: What’s wrong with being a call center agent?
Howell: Would you allow Benjie to be one?
Mila: If that’s what he wants.
Reflect Upon
Do you post family-related conversations, photos, and information on your social

networking accounts? Why or why not? What do you think are the repercussions of doing
so?
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
+RZHOO Takes cell phone from his pocket'R\RXKDYHD)DFHERRNDFFRXQW"

Mila: Marnie wants me to open one.
+RZHOO 8VHVKLVFHOOSKRQH:H¶UHIULHQGVRQ)%
Mila: Friends?
Howell: It means I can access her wall. There’s a wall you know, on FB. Anyway, here’s her wall,
ZKHUHVKHSRVWVKHUWKRXJKWVShows cell phone to Mila
Mila: She already told me about this.
+RZHOO Reads from the cell phone ³&DOO FHQWHU DJHQW KPPP :RUWK WU\LQJ %XW P\ PRP
won’t let me. Hehe Mothers know best.”
Howell: She already got the Fulbright grant when she told me she wanted to try working in a call
center.
Howell: That’s it, Ma’am. Fulbright grant versus working in a call center. You chose the Fulbright
grant for her. If Ma’am Mendoza had her way, she’d choose a Fulbright grant over
working in a call center for Vic.
Mila: Howell, as parents we are not dictatorial. I never even encouraged my children to take
Chemistry. I used to tease my husband. “Dad, our children like me more. They’re all into
Chemistry. No one took engineering. No one followed your footsteps.”
Howell: But you’ll always help Benjie.
Mila: In whatever way I can. He’s my son. I’ll help him even from my grave.
Howell: Just like Ma’am Mendoza.
Mila: Parents help their children, Howell.
Howell: She was still paying for Vic’s house rent.
Mila: You wouldn’t know that.
Howell: Oh I know for a fact, Ma’am. She asked me to deposit the checks a couple of times.
Mila: All right. You win. So Ma’am Mendoza’s been helping Vic ‘til the day she died. So she
PD\KDYHFRQVLGHUHGKLPDEODFNVKHHSIRUWKHORQJHVWWLPH6R,PD\¿QGP\VHOIKHOSLQJ
Benjie ‘til I die. So he may not be an achiever like his sisters. Parents do not abandon
their weakest child. Parents help the weakest most.
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won’t have this. Owen is already teaching at the National University of Singapore. Ritzel
is taking her post doctorate at Luxembourg. And nice, funny me is still here, trying to
get published, trying to get tenured, trying not to lose his job. Don’t you see it, Ma’am?
I’m the weakest. And as you said, parents help the weakest most.
Mila: I’m not your parent.
Howell: Ma’am! My God! You know I didn’t mean that. I’m Ma’am Mendoza’s adopted healthy
baby. She’s my surrogate mother in the university. She’d want to help me the most. I’m
her weakest adopted baby. Give me the key, Ma’am. She’d want that. She’d want me to
get her research paper. She’d want me to use it, publish it under my name and solve my
problems. If you want, I can just be co-author. I’d still have her name there. I won’t own
it totally. Just give me the key, Ma’am. Please, give me the key.
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scholarship at NUS. Not like Ritzel who stormed out of this university, and then got a
grant from Ford. I can’t apply for scholarships. My grades are not impressive. I did not
even graduate from a prestigious school. There’s no future for me in the academe once
they kick me out of this university.
0LOD $SSURDFKHV+RZHOOZLWKDFXSRIFRɣHH7U\WKLV7KHEHDQVDUHIURP%DWDQJDV
Howell: You know what your problem is, Ma’am? You don’t listen. People call you rigid for you
don’t listen to anyone. I’m even surprised how Ma’am Mendoza endured having you for
DQRɤFHPDWH,WROGKHUWRFKRRVHDQRWKHURɤFHKHUHLQWKH¿UVWÀRRU$Q\RWKHURɤFH
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OHJZDVDPSXWDWHGVRVKHZRXOGQ¶WKDYHWRVKDUHWKLVRɤFHZLWK\RX$QG,ZDVQ¶WWKH
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don’t know anything about compassion. You don’t have the ability to pity anyone. You
MXVWGRQ¶WOLVWHQ*HWVWKHFXSWKURZVLWRQWKHÀRRU
Beat. Mila and Howell stare at each other. After a while, Mila starts to pick up the pieces of
the broken cup.
Mila: If this were a stage play, your rant may have ended with me bitch slapping your face.
Laughs a littOH ,¶P DOVR FDSDEOH RI XVLQJ H[SOHWLYHV , FDQ OLVWHQ WR SHRSOH , KDYH
feelings too.

+RZHOO Gets a grip of himself,¶PVRUU\0D¶DP6WDUWVSLFNLQJXSWKHSLHFHVRIWKHEURNHQXS
,¶PMXVWVRGHVSHUDWH<RXGRQ¶WXQGHUVWDQGKRZGHVSHUDWH,DP6OXPSVRQWKHÀRRU
and cries
0LOD Continues picking the pieces of the broken cup,NQRZKRZGHVSHUDWH\RXDUH,¶PQRW
QDwYHTakes the pieces of the broken cup to the sink, gets a hand towel from the rack
DQGZLSHVWKHVSLOOHGFRɣHHRɣWKHÀRRU,NQRZSRYHUW\:HGLGQ¶WVWDUWRɣULFK\RX
NQRZ0\SDUHQWVZHUHERWKLOOLWHUDWH7KH\VROG¿VKDWWKHPDUNHW%HQ¶VSDUHQWVZHUH
poor too. Both public elementary school teachers. It wasn’t easy for both of us. We were
the eldest. He had six siblings. I had four. I don’t know how we were able to send them
all to school with our measly salary from this university. But we did. We succeeded. And
we did not need to steal.
+RZHOO Still crying,WULHG0D¶DP,WULHG
0LOD Takes the hand towel to the sink, opens the refrigerator’s door and gets a pitcher of
cold water. She pours the water in a glass and takes the glass of water to Howell
Here, have some water.
+RZHOO Takes the glass and drinks up+LOGD0\VLVWHU6KHGURSSHGRXWRIFROOHJH6KHVDLG
she wanted to stay with our mother in the hospital. I thought she wanted to take care of
her. But I caught her, several times. She was staring at a wall. She was standing in front
of a wall. And she was just staring at it. I shook her, even slapped her face. She said she
didn’t remember anything. She didn’t know why she was staring at the wall.
Mila: She seemed all right when she was here last week.
+RZHOO 7KHUHZDVWKLVFRɣHHVKRSLQRXUSURYLQFH7KHRQO\FRɣHHVKRSZHNQHZ:H¶GSDVVE\
WKHFRɣHHVKRSZKHQZHZHUHNLGV:H¶GVWDUHDWWKHJODVVGRRU:H¶GVHHSHRSOHLQQLFH
FORWKHVVLSSLQJWKHLUFRɣHHHDWLQJFDNHV7KH\ORRNHGVRUHOD[HGDQGKDSS\7KHQWKH
JXDUGZRXOGVKRRXVDZD\OLNHÀLHVZLWKKLVFXGJHODVKLVÀ\VZDWWHU+LOGDZRXOGFU\
“I just want to look inside! I just want to look!” I’d promise her that someday, I’ll work
KDUGDQG ZLOO JLYHKHU DFRɣHH VKRS6KH¶OO KDYHKHU RZQFRɣHH VKRS 6KHZRXOG VWRS
FU\LQJ,WROGKHUODVWZHHN,DOUHDG\KDYHWKHPRQH\6KHFDQKDYHKHURZQFRɣHHVKRS
6KHEHOLHYHGPH$IWHUVKHWRRNDORRNDW\RXUKXVEDQG¶VFRɣHHURDVWHUVKHQHYHUVWDUHG
at the wall anymore.
Mila: But do you really have the money?
Howell: I can’t even buy the smallest tube of pore minimizing cream.
0LOD 6KH¶OOEHPRUHGHYDVWDWHGLIVKH¶OO¿QGRXWWKHWUXWK
Howell: That’s why I cannot lose my job, Ma’am. Once I get tenured, I can apply for a loan. I’ll
XVHWKHPRQH\DVFDSLWDOIRUDVPDOOFRɣHHVKRS:LWK\RXUKXVEDQG¶VURDVWHU,¶OOKDYHD
chance to keep my sister’s sanity.
Mila: And your mother?
Howell: The hospital allows promissory letters from faculty members here.
Mila: You’ll bury yourself in debts.
Howell: If I lose my job here, I’d rather be buried literally. I’d rather die.
+RZHOOFULHVRQFHPRUH0LODWDNHVWKHJODVVWRWKHVLQN6KHORRNVDWWKHSURWRW\SHFRɣHHURDVWHU
Mila: You know, I can just give this to you.
Howell: Thank you, Ma’am. But I need more.
Mila: I can ask Cora to help you get published.
+RZHOO *HWV XS JRHV WR WKH ¿OLQJ FDELQHW :KHQ VKH UHMHFWHG P\ UHVHDUFK , WROG KHU , ZDV
conducting another one. Something that will help us battle the El Niño.
Mila: That sounds promising.
Howell: Evaporation suppressants.
0LOD Gets excited, approaches Howell7KDW¶VQLFH+RZHOO,PDJLQH KRZWKH LQVXɤFLHQF\
of irrigation water has always been a major constraint to crop production. Even if we
collect rainfall in reservoirs, evaporation rates in reservoir areas are so high especially
during the dry season that it would be nice to come up with evaporation suppressants to
improve the value of our reservoirs. Howell, you’re a genius.
Howell: But I don’t know what hydrogenolysis to use to synthesize hexadecanol.
Mila: Continue researching on it.
Howell: You really think I came up with that idea on my own? I don’t know anything about
HYDSRUDWLRQVXSSUHVVDQWVPulls the topmost drawer(YHU\WKLQJLVLQKHUH+HUH
Mila: You can start researching on the idea.
Howell: I’m an idiot, Ma’am. You really want to hear that, don’t you? I’m not like you who
UHSHDWHGO\JRWSXEOLVKHGLQWKH$PHULFDQ-RXUQDORI&KHPLVWU\3XOOVRQHRIWKH¿OLQJ
cabinet’s drawers, gets sheets of paper and reads topmost sheet, throws the sheets of
paper in the air, then gets more sheets of paper and repeats the process(QROHVWHUV
as acylating reagents… glycerol derivatives… carboxylic acids… sucrose-organic acid
units… cross-linked HQ]\PHDJJUHJDWHVRIOLSDVH«Pulls the whole drawer and harshly
HPSWLHVDOOLWVFRQWHQWVRQWKHÀRRU,WULHGWRVWXG\WKHPDOOGoes to the book shelf,
JHWVERRNV DQGWKURZV WKHP DOORQ WKHÀRRU ,UHDG DQGUHDG DQGUHDG $QGWKH RQO\
research output I came up with was that garbage of a thesis which received a passing
mark because they liked the food I served them during my defense!
Based on what you have read so far, what anti-plagiarism rules can you remember? List
WKHPZLWK\RXUJURXSPDWHV3UHVHQW\RXU¿QGLQJVLQIURQWRIWKHFODVV
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
%HDW+RZHOODQG0LODVLWRQGLɣHUHQWFKDLUVQRWORRNLQJDWHDFKRWKHU
0LOD +RZHOO±
Howell: Sorry, Ma’am.
Mila: You depended so much on Ma’am Mendoza.
Howell: She never failed me.
Mila: She was bed-ridden, losing her eyesight, joking about still feeling her amputated right
leg, and she was still thinking of you.
Howell: She knew I was desperate.
0LOD :KHQ 9DO DQG KLV EURWKHUV GHFLGHG WR FRQ¿QH KHU LQ WKH KRVSLWDO WKH\ RQO\ ZDQWHG
family members, relatives, and very close friends to see her. She looked so fragile in her
bed, I thought the air could break her body into pieces. She said she wanted her friends
to visit her, her babies, but she didn’t want to argue with her children.

Howell: I wanted to visit her.
Mila: Her children didn’t know you. She mentioned you to them but all they wanted were
people they knew. Val called me up, told me about his mother’s condition. He asked me
to see her for I’m the only one they knew here.
Howell: Because you went to Philippine Science High School with them.
Mila: Yes. And so I went to the hospital. We talked about a lot of things. Where our college
is going, where our institute is headed to, Dean Ramos, Cora, you. She was concerned
about you. She wanted to help you. She mentioned about the research she did. The one
on evaporation suppressants.
Howell: You knew all along.
Mila: She did not discuss it with anyone. She did not even ask for a grant or any sort of funding.
She conducted the research on her own, funded it from her own pocket.
+RZHOO %XWVKHPHQWLRQHGLWWRPH,UHPHPEHUVKHZDVVRH[FLWHGZKHQVKHFDPHWRRXURɤFH
She was holding a manila envelope close to her chest, still panting from having climbed
WKUHHÀRRUVVKHWROGPH³+RZHOO ,ZDV ULJKW:ULWLQJZLWK \RXUKDQGV LVEHWWHU WKDQ
typing. I did it. Evaporation suppressants from locally available components. You’ll
encode this someday, ok?” Then she placed the manila envelope inside that drawer and
locked it.
Mila: She said you kept on asking her about that research, even after she transferred here.
Howell: I was honest with her. I told her about my desperation. I told her it was the only way I
could get published.
Mila: What did she say?
Howell: That she’ll give me the key to the drawer.
Mila: And you were surprised when I told you I have it.
Howell: I was scared, Ma’am. If it had been Ma’am Cora, or even Dean Ramos, I knew I had a
chance. But you, Ma’am. I even entertained thoughts of murdering you.
0LOD Gets key from her bag,GRQ¶WZDQWWRGLHIRUWKLV
Howell: I wouldn’t murder you, Ma’am.
0LOD Approaches Howell6KHVKRZHGPHWKLVNH\WKHQVKHVDLG³0LODJLYHWKLVWR+RZHOO´
+RZHOO Turns to Mila6KHGLG"
Mila: She wanted you to have this. She wanted you to have her research paper. Use it, solve
your problems. Anyway, she’ll ask you to encode it if she were still with us.
Howell: I used to encode for her. She never liked using computers. Lectures, exams, syllabi,
letters, researches, everything was hand written.
Mila: But not the one on evaporation suppressants.
Howell: She said you didn’t want me to encode it for her.
Mila: Because she already told me about your request.
Howell: But she wanted me to have it.
Mila: Yes, she did.
Howell: Then give me the key, Ma’am.
0LOD 7HOOPH¿UVWZK\VKHFDOOHG\RXKHUDGRSWHGKHDOWK\EDE\
+RZHOO Stands up,VQ¶WLWREYLRXV"
Mila: She wasn’t referring to your size.
Howell: Then what was she referring to?
Mila: Your heart.
Beat. Mila gets the framed pictures, looks at them one by one. Howell approaches Mila.
Howell: The key, Ma’am. Please.
Mila: Even if I tell on you after you get it published, I won’t have any proof that you stole it.
Would I, Howell?
Howell: Just this once, Ma’am. I promise you, just this once.
0LOD 6KHQHYHUVDLG\RXZHUHEULOOLDQWLQ&KHPLVWU\Picks up one picture frame6KHXVHGWR
say you were miles behind Owen and Ritzel. But you were her favorite.
Howell: I need to get the manuscript before Val arrives.
Mila: Don’t you want to know why you were her favorite adopted baby?
Howell: I’m nice and funny. I already know that.
0LOD Takes Howell’s hand :KHQ&RUD PHW D FDUDFFLGHQW \RX YLVLWHG KHULQ WKH KRVSLWDO
performed her favorite song to cheer her up after her operation.
Howell: I was just trying to help.
0LOD :KHQ'HDQ5DPRV¶ZLIH¿UVWZHQWLQWRDFRPD\RXZHQWDURXQGWKHFDPSXVNQRFNLQJ
DWHYHU\IDFXOW\RɤFH¶VGRRUDVNLQJIRUGRQDWLRQV
Howell: There’s nothing wrong with that.
Mila: I’m not saying it’s wrong. What I’m saying is that you have a good heart, Howell. Ma’am
Mendoza saw that in you. To her your heart is pure. So pure that she believed it is
KHDOWK\$QGWKDW¶VWKHEULOOLDQWIHDWKHUVKHZDQWHGWRÀRFNZLWK
Howell: I’ll still honor her as the co-author of the research, Ma’am. I’m not going to steal it
completely.
0LOD 2ZHQ DQG 5LW]HO RɣHUHG \RX WR EH FRDXWKRU RI WKHLU ERRN %XW \RX UHIXVHG 0D¶DP
Mendoza heard you say that you cannot stomach taking credit for something you did not
do. That was the exact time Howell, when you became her favorite adopted baby. That
was the exact time when she thought of calling you her adopted healthy baby.
Beat. Howell sits on the chair once more. Mila continues boxing things.
+RZHOO +RZZRXOG,NQRZWKHUH¶GEHVXFKDWKLQJDV."7KDWVFKRROVZRQ¶WKLUHWHDFKHUVIRU
a time? That my mother will slide into a coma? That Hilda will snap. That my sister-in-
law will die and leave my brother depressed? That I’ll have to take care of my nephews?
That I have to take care of all of them?
Mila: You were able to resist the temptation once, Howell. You can resist it again. You’re a
good person. Remember that.
Howell: Last week, at her burial. I was so ashamed. I no longer knew if I was crying because she
was being buried or because I thought my last chance of getting published was being
buried with her.
Mila: Then I told you about the key.
Howell: You didn’t tell me she wanted me to have it.
Mila: I wanted to prevent you from doing the wrong thing.
Howell: I know what I’m going to do is wrong, Ma’am. I know it’s dishonest, maybe even a crime.
%XWWKHUH¶V.VFKRROVDUHQRWKLULQJWHDFKHUV7KHUH¶VP\WHQXUH+LOGD0\PRWKHU
My older brother and his motherless children.
Mila: You’re making them dependent on you in as much as Ma’am Mendoza made you
dependent on her.
+RZHOO Approaches Mila -XVW JLYH PH WKH NH\ 0D¶DP 6KH ZDQWHG PH WR KDYH LW ,W¶V QRW
\RXUVLW¶VPLQHGrabs Mila’s arm1RZJLYHPHWKHNH\
+RZHOOWULHVWRJHWWKHNH\IURP0LOD¶VKDQG0LOD¿JKWVKLP0LODVOLSVVKHIDOOVRQWKHÀRRU
+RZHOOFRQWLQXHV WRWDNHWKH NH\IURPKHU 0LODFRQWLQXHV WR¿JKWKLP 0LOD¶VFHOOSKRQH ULQJV
Hearing it makes them stop wrestling each other. Beat. Howell stands up. Mila goes to her bag,
gets her cell phone. The key is still with her.

0LOD VTalking over her cell phone+HOOR"<HV9DO«1RGRQ¶WSDUNDWWKHEDFN7KHUH¶VDQHZ
parking lot in front of the building. We’re on the left wing… No, not near the lab. They
did some renovations. Just park in front and I’ll fetch you there… Yes, I’m on my way
QRZ7HUPLQDWHVWKHFDOOIDFHV+RZHOODVVKH¿[HVKHUVHOI<RXNQRZZK\%HQMLHJRW
extended?
Howell does not reply.
Mila: He plagiarized for his thesis. I was the one who told his panelists. He plagiarized my
dissertation. My very own son, a plagiarist. I couldn’t stomach it. I even told his panelists
that I’d understand if he got expelled. But Ma’am Mendoza was his adviser. She whose
heart easily pitied anyone. She said expelling him was too harsh. She talked to his
SDQHOLVWV DQG WKH\ DJUHHG WKDW WKH\¶OO IDLO KLP RQ KLV WKHVLV DQG ZLOO ZULWH XQ¿QLVKHG
experiment as reason. When I say I always do the right thing, I mean that, Howell.
+RZHOO %XWWKHUHDUHSHRSOH0D¶DPZKR±
Mila: I don’t care about motivations. As you say, people call me rigid.
Howell: How about compassion, Ma’am? A little understanding?
Mila: My moral compass is clear. Right or wrong. Nothing in between. I don’t care if I’m not
ZHOO OLNHG , NQRZ , KDYH D ORW RI HQHPLHV %XW ,¶OO VWLOO ¿OH FRPSODLQWV DJDLQVW SHRSOH
ZKRDUHGRLQJWKHZURQJWKLQJV$SSURDFKHVWKH¿OLQJFDELQHW$QG,WKRXJKW,FRXOG
SUHYHQW RQH IURP FRPPLWWLQJ D PLVWDNH %XW , PD\ EH ZURQJ Places the key on top
RIWKH¿OLQJ FDELQHW<RXDUH ULJKW7KLVNH\LV \RXUV8VHLWRSHQ WKHGUDZHU*HW WKH
manuscript. Publish it and seize to be the adopted healthy baby Ma’am Mendoza was so
proud of. Or you may ignore the key, continue boxing her things, wait for me and Val.
Howell: You’re really giving it to me?
Mila: I’m giving you a choice.
Howell: You have faith in me.
Mila: I realized that at the end of the day, doing the right or the wrong thing is a matter of
choice. Who am I to prevent you from doing what you want? I’m just a Chemistry
professor. I can do nothing.
Beat. Mila leaves. Howell looks at the key for a while. He takes it and uses it to open the
locked drawer. After several attempts, he still couldn’t open the drawer. He throws the key
Howell: That witch! She gave me the wrong key!
Howell repeatedly kicks the cabinet, shakes it, then hits it hard with his hands. Out of
frustration, he grabs things from the desk and pounce them on the drawer’s lock. His cell phone
rings, it’s ringing tone is “Stand By Me.” He takes his cell phone from his pocket, looks at the caller
,'WKURZVKLV FHOOSKRQHRQ WKHGHVN+HFRQWLQXHV WRNLFNKLW DQGVKDNHWKH¿OLQJ FDELQHW+H
screams. Lights fade out as the song “Stand By Me” from Howell’s cell phone gets louder.)
END
Guide Questions:
1. What are the problems that Howell was going through?
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
2. Did Ma’am Mendoza want Howell to use her research for his tenure? Why do you think so?
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
3. If Ma’am Mendoza left the key to the drawer to you, would you have given it to Howell, even
though you know about his problems? Why or why not?
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
 :KDWDUHWKHHɣHFWVRIWKH.FXUULFXOXPWRHOHPHQWDU\KLJKVFKRRODQGFROOHJHVWXGHQWV
and teachers, as well as parents?
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________

Creative Presentation of a Play
Similar to how a poem is meant to be recited out loud, a play is meant to be staged and performed.
Despite staging an amateur play, there are still processes to it that you must follow for your play to be
successful. In the end, the audience will be the one to evaluate you and tell you if they truly like what you
have prepared for them. Here are the steps that you can follow in staging an amateur play.
1. Find a play. Go through your library, old school books, or even the internet to look for a play
that you may like to stage. For an amateur play, you may stage one-act plays that will be easy
to manage and execute. If you are lost for a play you want to stage, you may want to try Rene
O. Villanueva’s short one-act plays such as Kumbersasyon, Tatlo-Tatlo, and his wildly famous
May Isang Sundalo. These are simple one-act plays that have only one setting: it may be a
classroom, a living room, or a bedroom.
2. Find a group who you want to work with.)LQGDJURXSRIDWOHDVWRI\RXUFODVVPDWHVZKR
are willing to work with you. Make sure that they have their own expertise that they can bring
to help you stage your play: acting, lighting, preparing, and making props, taking charge of the
sound system, and directing.
3. $VVLJQVSHFL¿FWDVNVWRHDFKRI\RXUJURXSPDWHV Make sure to not overassign or underassign
tasks; assign them to those you think are the best in that particular task. As for you, you may be
the director if you wish or the leader who will oversee all the proceedings of the production.
4. Make a time line of what you want to accomplish. If your teacher gives you one month to stage
a play, then draw or write a time line of what you want to accomplish every week. For example,
IRUWKH¿UVWZHHN\RXZDQWWRKROGDXGLWLRQVIRUWKH¿QDOFDVW)RUWKHVHFRQGZHHN\RXKDYH
\RXUURXQGWDEOHUHDGLQJRIWKH¿QDOVFULSWDQGWKHSURSVSHRSOHVWDUWPDNLQJWKHSURSV)RU
the third week, you have daily practices, and the sounds or lights people start assembling
WKHLUHTXLSPHQW IRUWKHSOD\ 7KHIRXUWKZHHN LVWKH¿QDO DQGRUGUHVVUHKHDUVDOV EHIRUHWKH
performance day.
5. Stick to your plan. If in case something goes wrong with your plan, always have a backup plan
or a plan B. The key to a successful presentation is to always be ready for anything that may
happen.
 Finally, enjoy the presentation! It is also recommended that you give your audience an
evaluation sheet, so that you know what you can improve on for the next presentation. You may
research an example of an evaluation sheet on the Internet. After your presentation, discuss the
comments in the evaluation sheets with the rest of your team as a post-evaluation step of the
presentation.
1. There are many opportunities to watch plays or be part of plays in the country. The website http://
ZZZSKLOLSSLQHFRQFHUWVFRPXSFRPLQJWKHDWHUSOD\VDQGPXVLFDOVRɣHUVLQIRUPDWLRQDERXW
upcoming plays and ways to purchase your tickets in advance. Also, http://www.broadwayworld.
com/philippines/ has all the latest news about the Philippine theater scene—from the plays
themselves, the actors, directors, and where they would be playing next.
2. If you do want to try your hand out in acting, one of the most famous theater groups is the
Philippine Educational Theater Association or PETA. Visit its website at http://petatheater.
com/ to learn about their upcoming plays, acting workshops, and so much more.
Essential Learning
Philippine theater takes its roots from precolonial and colonial history. It has been shaped
E\ WKH YDULRXV LQÀXHQFHV RI ZKDW SHRSOH WKLQN FRQVWLWXWH HQWHUWDLQPHQW ULWXDOV VRQJV GDQFHV
comedy, drama, and so much more. From here, local theater has evolved to be the form it is today:
a modern way to present and mirror Philippine society, on the stage.
You should also acknowledge that theater has played a big part in Philippine literature, for it is
in the dramatization of these written works that the general audience are reached and enlightened
about current contemporary issues that they are experiencing as of that particular moment in
history. Plays are largely historical, in that sense. They portray the current struggles and triumphs
RI WKH )LOLSLQR SHRSOH DW WKDW VSHFL¿F WLPH HUD GDWH DQG HYHQW 3OD\V FDQ EH UHPLQGHUV RI \RXU
history and more. Plays can awaken the consciousness of the Filipino people of what is happening
around them, how they can participate in it, or what they can do about it.

Module
5 Archipelagic Life, or Creative Nonfiction

1. Value the contributions of local writers to the development of regional literary traditions.
 $QDO\]HWKH¿JXUHVRIVSHHFKDQGRWKHUOLWHUDU\GHYLFHVLQWKHWH[W
3. Explain the literary, biographical, linguistic, and sociocultural contexts and show how
they enhance the text’s meaning and enrich the reader’s understanding.
4. Explain the relationship of the context with the text’s meaning.
$UFKLSHODJLF1RQ¿FWLRQ
One of the most popular genres of literature in the Philippines Big Idea
has always been the essay also known as FUHDWLYHQRQ¿FWLRQ. The
We all live storied lives because
HVVD\ LV RIWHQGH¿QHG DV D VKRUW SLHFH RI ZULWLQJ RQD SDUWLFXODU we do things in a sequential
VXEMHFW6RPHWLPHVLWLVDOVRGH¿QHGDVDQDFFRXQWRIKLVWRULFDO manner. Our lives can be likened
SHUVRQDO DQG DFDGHPLF HYHQWV +RZHYHU WKH GH¿QLWLRQ RI DQ to a plot of a story unveiling one
essay can also be vague and that it overlaps with that of the always action after another. When we tell
popular short story. Because of this, the essay is sometimes seen personal stories to other people,
we also narrate in a sequential
DVDOLWHUDU\JHQUHWKDWLVRIOHVVHUIRUPWKDQSRHWU\DQG¿FWLRQ manner, just like in fiction. Creative
Generally speaking, the essay takes the same passion, craft, nonfiction is basically that—telling
the stories of our lives in written
and artistry as any literary genre. It is also known to be immensely form.
popular, because newspapers nowadays still bear essays in
the form of editorials, columns, and bylines. Some of the most
popular newspaper columnists who are known to write in the essay form are Conrado de Quiros of
the Philippine Daily Inquirer, Jessica Zafra of the Philippine Star and Business World, and, more
recently, Patricia Evangelista and Shakira Sison of the online news portal Rappler. In publishing,
Carlos Bulosan’s America is in the HeartKDVDOZD\VEHHQDVWDSOHIRUFUHDWLYHQRQ¿FWLRQ,QWKLVZRUN
he writes about his migration to the United States and the painful life he has lived there, and yet,
ends the whole memoir with a declaration that America will always be in the “heart.” Another famous
HVVD\LVWLV&DUPHQ*XHUUHUR1DNSLOZKRKDVDOVRGH¿QHGWKHHVVD\DVVRPHWKLQJWKDW³ZKDWQRRWKHU
forms of writing seems willing to be.”
:KDWWKHQLVDQHVVD\IRU\RX"+DYH\RXHYHUZULWWHQDQHVVD\IRUVFKRRO":DVLWGLɤFXOWWRZULWH
or was it easy for you to accomplish? Did you focus on only one subject or quite a lot within one essay?
An essay can take many forms, but there is one main requirement, as stressed by the country’s
SUHPLHUH HVVD\LVW&ULVWLQD 3DQWRMD+LGDOJRWKH YRLFH RIWKH ZULWHU PXVWULQJ FOHDUWUXH DQG ¿QHDOO
throughout the written work. What is a writer’s voice? The writer’s voice is the distinctive style or
SHUVRQDOLW\RIDZULWWHQZRUNDQHVVD\LQWKLVFDVHWKDWZLOOVHSDUDWHLWIURPRWKHUZULWWHQZRUNV,W
is an important component of writing for it shows the essay’s personality as much as you would if you
were the one telling the story to someone else. It is one way to make the story truly “your own.”
Read the following essay and answer the questions that are asked regarding the writer’s voice.
Fig. 5.1. Ma. Elena Paulma
Source: https://fulbright.org.ph/wp-content/uploads/2016/08/
scholars2016-300x300-maria-paulma.jpg
0D(OHQD3DXOPDLV D3DODQFD¿UVWSUL]HZLQQHUIRU KHUVKRUWVWRU\³7KUHH.LVVHV´ LQ6KH

FRPHVIURP%XWXDQ&LW\0LQGDQDRDQGKDV¿QLVKHGKHUEDFKHORU¶VGHJUHHLQ(QJOLVK&UHDWLYH:ULWLQJ
master’s degree in Comparative Literature, and doctorate in Creative Writing at the University of the
3KLOLSSLQHV±'LOLPDQ6KHLVDQ$VVRFLDWH3URIHVVRUDQGWKH9LFH3UHVLGHQWIRU$FDGHPLF$ɣDLUVDWWKH
University of Science and Technology of Southern Philippines, Cagayan de Oro. Her book of essays,
Southern Stories and Strays´ZDVSXEOLVKHGLQE\WKH833UHVV
And the Water Flows in Tiniwisan

By Ma. Elena Paulma
What I remember the most when I think of Tiniwisan is not the trill of softly singing birds, the rush
of coconut fronds, or mango, sampaloc and baungon leaves in the breeze. Well there was that, and the
silence which was always there beneath the occasional trike, the momentary roar of passing trucks
whopping up a cloud of dust in their wake. But the constant sound that lay like the endless silence
beneath all the other sounds was that of the rushing water coming from a huge pipe rising out of the
earth.
Reflect Upon
What stories about your hometown do your parents or grandparents tell you? Share them with
the class.
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___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________

The pipe had two short arms, and like a proud scarecrow minus a head, it stood out against the
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earth it seemed, to gush out of the pipes day and night, so cold and crisp and clear we would stand
beneath its force for what seemed like hours. Many came with their plastic gallons and earthen jars for
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springs dotted the landscape of Tiniwisan from the Butuan highway intersection down to the wilder
parts at the end, a long long way down the dirt road.
Our elders would talk about running towards those then forested areas during the Japanese
occupation. One story is about this tree. Its roots formed a cavern huge enough for all the brothers and
sisters to hide in. Lolo would cover them with wide anahaw or nipa leaves that grew near the river
while he went out and looked for food.
When they had no time to run that far, they hid in the dug-out made by Lolo behind the old house.
“That is why your Lola told us to never cut the Dama de Noche that grows in front of the hole. It saved
our lives many times.” Mom never told me where they buried her baby sister who died during one of the
raids, having fallen from my mother’s arms as they ran. Once, when the whole family tried to escape on
a raft down the Agusan River, they were apprehended by the Japanese. It was the blood coming out of
Lola who was in the throes of childbirth that turned the Japanese away.
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to the ground when the guerilla forces attacked the local Japanese garrison. My Lolo was one of those
guerillas, or as my Mom would tell it, he was suspected of being one of the guerillas because he would
distribute the harvest of his land and share portions of the slaughtered pig to the families of those who
had been captured. He was captured with his brother and was held for months in a Japanese garrison.
His brother died, but Lolo survived.
When I was a child, my cousins and I used to stay at Lolo’s uma IDUPIRUZHHNVGXULQJVXPPHU
breaks. From the Butuan city proper, Tiniwisan is several kilometers away, across the Magsaysay Bridge.
Whenever we go to the farm, we pass by houses below the highway level. There is more sky than land, it
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of white herons would rise in unison, painting white wings on blue sky, and only for a moment.
There’s a gas station before a left turn onto a road which until now has never been blessed with
a single drop of cement. No sign marks the entrance to Tiniwisan. The dirt road cuts like an intruder
through emerald land stretching out on both sides.
There’s this really long, bumpy, dusty ride, often the only sound and movement amidst the silence
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growing close to the edge of the road, coconut leaves slashing past and into the vehicle, then the line of
coconut trees that mark my grandparents’ land, and thick mango trees guarding two houses from which
the children would already be shouting and running towards the coming vehicle.
When the engine stops, the quiet descends, even with all the children clamoring to carry the
pasalubongs, Mom’s “Kuha ta’g butong!” which means get someone to climb up the coconut tree for
young coconuts, and “Amin!” as my nieces and nephews scramble to touch my hand to their foreheads.
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same, slapping hands with my thirty or so cousins.
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Lilia, the eldest aunt. She would say a secret prayer under her breath, to me words of magic, whenever
I touched her hand to my forehead.
The boys would wake up long before dawn, and challenge each other to a race towards a small
bridge that spanned a brook down the dirt road. Before the dew lifted and the gold began to settle on
all things, they would come back holding huge black beetles waving their spindly legs in the air and
sometimes large white worms collected from the inner hollows of coconut trunks. These were placed
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worms. The rest of us settled for Lolo’s law-oy, a collection of boiled and salted winged beans, Ilocano
saluyot, and camote tops, harvested from behind the house. Next to my plate would be a saucer with
YLQHJDUDQG¿VKVDXFH. Only Auntie Lilia knew that about me.
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further down the road.” From the way my bottom felt afterwards, it was much, much farther. What was
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Big Idea to those of us who lived in the city.
The planting and the harvest Lolo would let us ride on the balsa DUDIWOLNHEDPERRER[
seasons in the rural areas are SXOOHGE\KLVFDUDEDRRQKLVZD\WRWKH¿HOGV7KHUHZDVDUK\WKP
times when we can see the to the planting of rice. First, the soil was loosened and the paddies
bayanihan spirit and unity among
the townspeople. As part of the
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young generation, you should rows of them bent down over the watery mud, the bunch of shoots
find opportunities to still practice in their hands becoming straight rows of green on the wet black
this spirit of community and earth. People prayed for rain, not too much, for it would drown
togetherness today. the seedlings, but just enough for the shoots to turn from green
to gold.
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golden stalks would yield their golden seeds to be milled and shoveled as white grain into sacks. The
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with itchy brown rice stalks to play in.
We preferred Lolo’s yard. We would climb up the huge pile of corn in the small hut that housed
the thresher and the araro. We would quarrel over who would wield the sungkitDORQJEDPERRZLWKD
EHQWQDLODQGDQHWDVZHSHHUHGXSDWWKHPDQ\IUXLWWUHHVVXUURXQGLQJWKHKRXVH0\ate and I always
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after we crushed the hard brown shell of the sampaloc, or the plates of tender green iba dipped in salt
or eaten right out of the tree.
The fruit we all sat down for was the crunchy green Indian mango dipped in sauces of our choice
±VXJDUVXJDUZLWKVR\VDXFHSODLQVR\VDXFHYLQHJDUYLQHJDUZLWKVXJDURUWKHVPHOO\ginamos. The
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on her wooden table. When the baungonSRPHORWUHHWKDWJUHZEHVLGHWKHKRXVHERUHIUXLWP\XQFOHV
would go to the end of the verandah, reach out and pluck as many as was demanded. Afternoons found
us swinging on hammocks under the thick-leafed mango trees.
When the coconut leaves began to turn black against a purple pink sky, it was time for us to turn
in. Anyone making too much noise or running too fast would do well to say “Tabi po,” to appease the
disturbed spirits watching from the shadows of the gathering dusk. Although the sky was always bright
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wakwak who became one of the neighbors by day. Once, encantos had lured Lolo away from the house
LQWRWKHIRUHVWEXWKHZDVVHQVLEOHHQRXJKWRWDNHRɣKLVVKLUWDQGSXWLWRQLQVLGHRXW+HKDGIHOWOLNH
he had been gone for days but Lola said he had just been gone an hour.

We would lie in a row on mats lining the sala’s ZRRGHQÀRRU/RODZRXOGRSHQWKHOLGRIKHUZRRGHQ
kaban and hand out carefully washed and starched blankets and fresh pillows. We would squabble
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large windows so that they closed edge to edge, keeping away whatever lay outside in the dark. The
tickling and the giggling and the whispering would die down soon enough. The deep silence would
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As we grew up, our haunts would shift from Lolo’s yard to the basketball court near the barangay
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the basketball court: basketball, volley ball, beauty pageants, and at night, the baile or dance. They
would set up loud speakers as tall as a nipa hut. The houses all around literally shook from the music
that pounded at the night, scaring away wakwaks with any bright ideas. No need to say “Tabi po” at
this time.
The festivities always began on the bisperas or the day before the actual Fiesta. We would wake up
to the squealing of the dying pig, and the baying of a hung goat. All of my uncles are great cooks and they
would gather in the kitchen, chopping the meat, downing cases of beer or Tanduay, and “tasting” half
of what was cooked. The goat, which is a family tradition, was the specialty of the eldest, Uncle Au. On
any family gathering, we always had goat kilawin, papait and caldereta. The children would gather for
the program and the several uncles and aunties would be robbed of their pesos after each game, song
or dance. At night, we would take out the guitars and the playing cards and we would sing and talk till
dawn.
With the passing of years, the gatherings would become less frequent. Lolo would die from old
age. Lola, who refused to leave her bedroom after his death, would follow a few years later. During the
funeral rites, one after the other of two coconut trees that seemed to grow from one root was felled.
They say Lolo and Lola had planted it.
The children, who used to sing “Jingle Bells” for a box of candies and scramble for one peso coins
thrown into the air, would grow up. Everyone would go to college, have families, settle in other cities, or
go abroad. We came back less and less, preferring paved streets to the rough roads, the fast-paced life
to the slowness of the farm, the sophistication of cities to the roughness that would always be Tiniwisan.
A cousin has died, and two aunts, and Auntie Lilia. All of them are buried near Lolo and Lola in
the cemetery that is reached through a muddy and pot-holed road somewhere in the inner recesses of
Tiniwisan. One of my cousins would say, “How I wish we came together for reasons other than burying
our dead.” Sometimes, we would not see each other for years. Strange, but the passing of a loved one
always brings us back together.
There are things we have said about each other, things we have kept to ourselves, things we have
done and things we have failed to do. But it is always the same every time we come together again.
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At night, we would awaken to the revving of my uncle’s pick-up, and everyone would troop out for the
“surprise” joy ride through the silent streets of the city across the bridge. Back in the farm, we would
await the dawn while eating balot and peanuts in the verandah, telling our stories.
The early morning would bring Nong Tano, the blind man who walks the length of the Tiniwisan
road with his basket of pan de sal. Like Uncle Au who insists on walking on the rough earth barefoot,
Nong Tano walks without any guide, not even a walking stick. There are many of them here, men and
women who know the land well, by the touch of their hands as they push the rice shoots into the ground,
by the feel of the watery earth beneath their feet as they move from one paddy to another.
Nowadays, we talk less about moving away in search of Big Idea
“greener pastures.” More and more, as we sit on the stone railing Traveling allows you to be
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morning mist drifts away from the ripening rice stalks, we talk Make sure that, when you become
about coming back. And building a hut right there in the middle young professionals, you also
consider if traveling is the best
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thing to do. Being an adult means
buried on this land. that you are now capable of
The water pipes are long gone, and there is talk of these lands handling the financial aspects (e.g.,
airfare, cost of accommodation) of
EHLQJFRQYHUWHGLQWRVXEGLYLVLRQVOLNHPDQ\ULFH¿HOGVKDYHEHHQ your travels. Travel if you can, but
But where we are, Dama de NochesVWLOO EUHDWKHDWQLJKW DQG¿OO also learn when to be thrifty.
the air with their haunting scent, and some of the mango trees still
bear fruit and the coconut trees are still standing, and the rice still
grows on the same land my Lolo and Lola tilled. And underneath all these, the deepest silence, as the
ZDWHUÀRZVLQKLGGHQVSULQJVEHQHDWKWKHHDUWK
If New York has “Ground Zero,” Davao City has its “Tree of Life,” which is a marker to
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of both markers of devastation and compare them. What do they have in common? Share your
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\RXOLNHWRVD\¿UWKHYLFWLPV":ULWHWKHGUDIWVRI\RXUPHVVDJHKHUH7KHQZULWH\RXUPHVVDJHRQ
sheets of paper and post then on the bulletin board.
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1. What is the purpose of the author in writing the essay?
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2. What is the central message of the piece?
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3. What can you say about the author’s childhood?
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4. What is the central subject of the essay? Defend your answer.
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 :KDW DUH WKH VLPLODULWLHV DQG GLɣHUHQFHV EHWZHHQ WKH DXWKRU¶V H[SHULHQFH RI FXOWXUH DQG
tradition in Tiniwisan and your own experiences?
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Life.” In thinking of tips, you might want to take note of Paulma’s way of sharing the story, her
supposed target audience, her use of language, her overall message, and other elements that made
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The art of writing essays in the Philippines has been through many historical events. According to
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during the Propaganda movement of the Spanish occupation, the illustrados and katipuneros wrote
essays that were designed to awaken their fellow countrymen in the newspaper La Solidaridad. Their
essays were written in either Spanish or Filipino, depending on their target audience. These essays were
revolutionary in nature and were frequently formal ones.
Reflect Upon
What is your most memorable trip? What made it memorable? Where do you want to travel in
the future? Why did you choose this place?
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The Commonwealth Period brought about the rise of the informal essay in the country. An informal
essay is an essay on any topic available and is written in the author’s own unique style. However, it is
always understood that when an essay is being written, the author should have something important to
tell his or her readers and must say it well through the use of his or her voice.
(YHQWXDOO\LQ$OIUHGR4*RQ]DOH]UHOHDVHGWKH¿UVWHYHUVLQJOHDXWKRUERRNRIIDPLOLDUHVVD\V
entitled The Call of Heights. It was preceded by Dear Devices LQDVWKH ¿UVWYROXPHRI IDPLOLDU
essays in the country written in English.
After the war came the likes of Yay Panlilio-Marking and Carmen Guerrero Nakpil, who were
distinguished voices among the new essayists of their generation. As the country progressed toward
Martial Law, so many popular publications such as the Philippine Free Press, Philippine Graphic,
Manila Times, and Manila Chronicle published essays that were also intertwined with journalism.
During the Martial Law era, there was a great suppression of essays in print or media; a lot of essayists
also went to jail or were exiled for their involvement in the revolution.
Nowadays, the EDSA Revolution has paved the way for essays to come back in the limelight. The
essays that you now read in newspapers or online are how essays have been written since the beginning
of literature in the Philippines: to write what one wanted and how one wanted.
&UHDWLYHQRQ¿FWLRQEHIRUHZHUHVWRULHVWKDWUHÀHFWZD\VRIOLIH1RZLWDOVRGLVFXVVHVWLPHO\LVVXHV
and tells stories that news would not cover: stories of struggle and hope, stories of the marginalized,
and stories of survival despite the times, to name a few. There has also been a spike in the number
of women essayists, and the academe and the media have become avenues for publishing works on
FUHDWLYHQRQ¿FWLRQ

Together with your group mates, think of as many topics for an essay. Then ask a representative
from each group to share one topic until the groups have no topic left to mention. A topic mentioned
by a group should no longer be mentioned by other groups. The last group standing wins and gets
WKHFKDQFHWRGHFLGHWKHWRSLFXSRQ\RXUWHDFKHU¶VDSSURYDOIRUWKH¿QDOHVVD\IRUWKLVPRGXOHODWHU
Reflect Upon
The internet has also become instrumental in shaping essay writing. What essays have you read
online? What are the characteristics of these online essays?
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Fig. 5.2. Dr. Jose Dalisay, Jr.
One of the creative writers who went on to write columns in newspapers is Dr. Jose Dalisay, Jr., who
is more popularly known as Butch Dalisay in his column “Penman” in the Philippine Daily Inquirer.
Read his essay about the position that writers should assume in today’s unfortunate times:
'U -RVH 'DOLVD\ LV D )LOLSLQR ZULWHU ZKR KDV ZRQ VHYHUDO DZDUGV LQ ¿FWLRQ SRHWU\ GUDPD
QRQ¿FWLRQ DQG VFUHHQZULWLQJ LQFOXGLQJ 3DODQFD $ZDUGV $V DQ DFDGHPLFLDQ DQG D ZULWHU KH KDV
EHHQ D )XOEULJKW +DZWKRUQGHQ 'DYLG 7. :RQJ 5RFNHIHOOHU DQG %ULWLVK &RXQFLO IHOORZ %RUQ LQ
5RPEORQ %XWFK 'DOLVD\ LV WKH 9LFH 3UHVLGHQW IRU 3XEOLF $ɣDLUV RI WKH 8QLYHUVLW\ RI WKH 3KLOLSSLQHV
System, maintains a newspaper column, and is one of the big names in many literary festivals and
creative writing workshops. Fig. 5.2. Dr. Jose Dalisay, Jr.
Source: http://www.murphyreport.com/issue-01/pinoy-penman/
Literature in the Time of Tokhang

By Dr. Jose Dalisay, Jr.
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follow next week:
I’ve been asked to speak on the subject of “Literature in the Time of Tokhang,” and I’m sure we will
all agree that no topic could be timelier and more troubling. I suspect that I was chosen to stand here
today much less for any eloquence than for the simple fact that, even peripherally, my family can count
personal losses in this sordid war. As many of you know, I wrote a piece for Esquire magazine last year,
UHFRXQWLQJDKRUUL¿FPRPHQWWKDWQRIDPLO\VKRXOGHYHUKDYHWRXQGHUJR/HWPHMXVWUHDGDSDUDJUDSK
from that essay:
“My wife Beng and I were in San Diego late this July, visiting family and taking in the harmless
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Beng’s nephew Gab, had been shot dead by a man as she was taking a jeepney ride to work. We found
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the most heartbreaking sight I’d seen, the pain of which Beng’s wails could only scratch at. I’d come
across ghastlier crime scenes as a sometime police reporter, but this one hit home and hit hard; she
was someone we knew and cared for, someone who occasionally dropped by with Gab and whom we
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a family funeral.”
Reflect Upon
Before reading this piece, what was your interpretation of the word “tokhang” based on how it
is used in the media or online? What led to your understanding of the term as such?
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As if this wasn’t terrible enough, three months after Lauren was murdered, her brother JR—a
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himself shot dead by a motorcycle-riding gunman who remains unknown, like his sister’s assailant, to
this day.
To be fair—a word that seems hopelessly inappropriate in these circumstances—no one except
the killers and their handlers can say for sure if these murders were part of the government’s so-called
war on drugs. Neither was a drug user, and the police themselves would admit that neither Lauren
nor JR was on their list of suspects. But these murders happened in an environment and in a manner
that, as crime waves and police campaigns typically do, anonymized both victims and perpetrators, and
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innocence together.
The term “tokhang” itself is a corrupted word, a portmanteau of the Cebuano words toktok and
hangyo, or “knock” and “plead”—the very embodiment of courtesy and consideration, conjuring the
image of a uniformed policeman, his cap in hand, knocking on the door of a suspect’s home and politely
seeking information or cooperation. In practice, tokhang has become its opposite: the gentle knock has
become the kick of a booted heel, the cap a gun, and the appeal a barked command.
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also at the facility with which this brief narrative arc has become a cliché—and like all clichés has left us
increasingly benumbed and unsurprised. In a sense, this is the true victory of the war on drugs — the
capture of the passive mind, and its habituation to systematic terror.
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something you get used to.” We’ve gotten used not only to the killings, but to the stories about them,
to the telling and to the listening. And we all know by now how that basic story runs: Juan was a drug
addict, so the police went to arrest him, but he resisted arrest, and was therefore shot and killed—
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law against crime and evil.
In this situation, what can writers who have not surrendered their conscience and their writerly
inquisitiveness do?
Writers come in many forms and functions, which at one time or other may overlap. In this
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editors, copywriters, screenwriters, bloggers, and propagandists of all kinds and persuasions. What
unites us is the written word—and, increasingly these days, the visible image.
I often tell foreign audiences that we Filipinos can be very Big Idea
proud of our writers and literary resources. We have one of the
Writing comes in different
world’s freest presses and social media, where no topic and no forms, each with its own style and
personage is taboo. purpose to the reader. However,
whatever the kind of writing you
But this is accompanied by an awful irony: for all our vaunted choose to pursue, there is always
liberties, the Philippines is also one of the deadliest countries a way to make your writing count
for journalists in the world—according to the New York-based and to write with a purpose to fight
Committee to Protect Journalists, it ranked second only to Iraq in and serve.
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understand that, politically, it is the frontline journalist who takes the greatest risks and sustains the
most grievous losses in the battle for the Filipino mind.
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expect to stay alive and ambulant. Nobody in this country ever got killed or imprisoned in recent times
because of a novel or a story. Neither has a Filipino despot been deposed because of a play or a poem.
Journalism, on the other hand, can be a lethal enterprise, especially if you live and work far away from
the glare of the metropolis.
It’s worth noting, of course, that we have brought down three presidents—Marcos, Estrada, and
Arroyo—by means of media other than print. The massive street revolt that drove Ferdinand Marcos
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predict that the next Philippine revolution—whenever that will be and for whatever cause—will not be
sparked by a novel, but by a viral video.
But again, between now and then, what’s a writer to do?
Source: http://www.philstar.com/arts-and-culture/2017/05/01/1695436/literature-time-tokhang
1. What can you say about the recent killings happening in the country today?
_________________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________________________
2. What do you think can a writer do in this unfortunate time?
_________________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________________________
3. Read the second part of the article at http://www.philstar.com/arts-and-

FXOWXUHOLWHUDWXUHWLPHWRNKDQJ$IWHUUHDGLQJWKHWZRSDUWFROXPQ
article, what is the overall message that Dr. Dalisay wants to communicate?
_________________________________________________________________
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The Modern Essay
What is the modern essay of Filipinos? What do you read nowadays, and what does it say to you?
The modern essay of Filipinos has become more experimental—it would usually take on an informal
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enough to call out and criticize Filipino culture.
One thing is for sure: essays nowadays also tap on their readers for interpretation. Your own beliefs,
experiences, feelings, values, and morals all take part of your interpretation of an essay. When the essay
wants to say something, it does so with your help as its reader because you will be the one to decode its
message.
Patricia Evangelista is a columnist and writer for various publications, but most recently with the
online news portal Rappler. She has been credited to have changed the face of Philippine journalism and
has sparked discussions with her brave essays on Filipino culture, disasters, and events. She recently
received the NCCA’s prestigious Ani ng Dangal award for her journalism.
Go to the following link and try decoding the message in the essay “The Baby in the Backpack”
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Think about where you were and what you were doing before, during, and immediately after Typhoon
Haiyan. Ask yourself, “What is my reaction to this essay?”
Fig. 5.3. Patricia Evangelista

Source: http://www.rappler.com/bulletin-board/83766-patricia-
evangelista-ani-ng-dangal (accessed on 14 February 2015)
Reflect Upon
Imagine what Evangelista is describing in her introduction. If you were where she was, how it
would have felt seeing the corpse inside the backpack?
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
Big Idea
Personal pronouns are never used in news articles. But for opinion articles, “I” is used in columns
and personal essays, just like what Evangelista did. When “we” is used in an editorial article, “we” refers
to the whole newspaper. The editorial is the piece that showcases the whole paper’s stand in an issue.
Under a government agency, you are working for a task force in charge on information
dissemination on disaster preparedness. You are divided into teams who are tasked to create
various infographics, with each group assigned to work on the following:
1. How typhoons come to be
2. Typhoon warning signals
3. Preparing before a typhoon
4. What to do during a typhoon
5. Survival tips
 3RVWW\SKRRQUHKDELOLWDWLRQ
7. Preventing impacts of disaster
Evangelista’s article hopefully inspires you to help others be more informed. Further, it lets you
be aware of what the consequences of a disaster are. Conceptualize a well-crafted infographic that is
appealing, informative, and inspiring on a particular disaster. Focus on safety and preparation. The
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rollout.
Reflect Upon
The article is not merely an essay about disaster. What do you think is it about? What did you
learn from the essay?
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___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________

1. Based on the essay that you have read, what can you say about the Filipino culture in the face of
a calamity?
_________________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________________________
2. What is the role of essay writing and journalism in shaping the mindset of the country?
_________________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________________________
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editor in chief of the magazine enters the room announces that you are part of this year’s Persons
of the Year. You have been requested to take a photo of yourself create a short write-up of your
accomplishments. The magazine will be using your photo and the write-up in the special issue.
Aside from the featured photo, the magazine also needs to decide who will be featured on the
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by the winning group in What Have I Learned So Far"RQSDJH0DNHVXUHWKDW\RXLQFRUSRUDWH
your own experiences in discussing the topic, and come up with an essay that is informative, timely,
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winning piece will be the main article of the magazine and the writer will be on the cover.
Criterion Points
Accuracy of information 15
Creative writing skills 15
Coherent discussion of content 
Organization of ideas 
Total SRLQWV
Essays are available online for your perusal at the RapplerZHEVLWHZZZUDSSOHU.FRP6RPH

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and Patricia Evangelista. Some great writers also publish their essays in Rappler.com, such as poet
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Essential Learning
Essays, just like any Philippine literary genre, deserve their place in the Philippine literary
canon. The essay is one of the most personal and insightful pieces of written work that has been
around since the era of Spanish colonization. We should also note that the essay has changed
throughout the years and has become a vessel for various thoughts and ideals of Filipino writers
and their culture at the time of their writing. It has been a way for revolutionary propaganda to be
shared with common citizens and for national consciousness to be awakened.
The essay has developed itself into two kinds—the formal essay and the informal essay. Whether
the essay is formal or informal, it should have a distinct voice that is able to tell what the written
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and stories on a more personal note, whether it is political, cultural, or social.

Module
6 Remapping of Philippine Literature through Criticism

1. Identify the geographic, linguistic, and ethnic dimensions of Philippine literary history
from precolonial to contemporary.
2. Value the contributions of local writers to the development of regional literary traditions.
3. 'LɣHUHQWLDWH WKH YDULRXV VW FHQWXU\ OLWHUDU\ JHQUHV DQG WKH RQHV IURP WKH HDUOLHU
genres or periods citing their elements, structures, and traditions.
4. Do self- and/ or peer-assessment or the analysis of a literary work based on rationalized
criteria, prior to presentation, how they enhance the text’s meaning and enrich my
understanding.
Literary Criticism
If in the previous module the essay was mentioned as a genre considered to be an “underdog” of
literature, what then of literary criticism? Though often ignored and sometimes seen as necessary but
not a part of the literary genre, criticism plays a vital role not only in literature but in the culture itself. It
has set the mode for certain eras and their particular tendencies: the Victorian Era and its romanticism,
the Renaissance and its humanist people, and the postmodern era and experimentation with art, to cite
a few examples. Criticism, often intertwining both literary and cultural, has set the mode for most of the
culture that has been lived before you were born and the culture you will be living in the future.
What, then, is literary criticism? Some will say it is the “reasoned” consideration or analysis of
literary texts and their themes or issues. It may also be an argument about a literary work, which will
be proven using the text and the culture or context the text was written in or for. There is one general
agreement among critics, however, when it comes to any kind of critique: it has to be “practical.”
Criticism is meant to see what has not been seen before, to say what has not been said before, and to
change what needs to be changed. It interprets meaning in text and judges the text’s quality so that it
may bring forth new ideas, new realizations, and necessary changes in society.
One of the earliest works of criticism is Plato’s argument against the consequences of poetic
inspiration in his writing entitled “The Republic.” Up until now, this text is used to guide critics on how
a text can be interpreted or what other modes of interpretation can be done.
Beyond Walls 6.1

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Read a discussion on “The Republic” at http://www.iep.utm.edu/republic/ or look for other
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online references about the text. Then when you go to class, write on a piece of paper or sticky
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Functions of Literary Criticism
There are many functions of literary criticism, and they vary depending on the text itself or the
context where it is being performed. Literary criticism may be the simple review of books that you often
read online or in local newspapers, or a systematic theoretical discussion of a story’s impact on society.
These reviews usually determine if a book will be widely sold or acclaimed, though at times they do not
serve as a precedent to the best seller’s status of the book. Criticism in everyday newspapers may also
summarize the worth of a book, or support or deconstruct a publisher’s claim about a given book.
Another function of literary criticism is to reevaluate any given text. This is to shed new light or
to give new meanings to old texts. Sometimes, literary criticism lets you see the function old texts in
modern society. The literary critic becomes a scholar who works through old drafts and manuscripts,
and edits all of them so that they may be reevaluated. This, when accomplished, may bring old texts to
the new public’s attention.
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based on a literary text. These kinds of sustained criticism may be found in bimonthly or even annual
magazines or journals, which oftentimes have specialized topics. These kinds of criticisms are usually
available to the academe, although some do end up in daily papers or mainstream magazines.
It is also common for criticism to dip its toes into social and political arguments, especially if the
literary work is social or political in nature. Because literary criticism is highly interdisciplinary in
nature, it is not afraid to transgress boundaries to argue a point and it also bravely follows where the
literary text goes. Some forms of critical work done in the Philippines have dealt with the following:
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injustice; and even postcolonial theories that dispute the years of colonization in which the country has
endured.
This much, however, is true about criticism: critics may be seen as lawgivers when it comes to
books, stories, poems, and the like. They may pass judgment based on their informed critical lenses and
can make or break a writer. Even if writers, in the truest sense of the word, are owners of their own work
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Writer Critic

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in the Once and Future Nation” by Thomas David Chaves at http://journals.upd.edu.ph/index.
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that made the work
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“Totems” by Catherine Torres. Your task is to summarize and present in front of the class what the
author said about the story assigned to you. Hopefully, you will understand how literary criticism is
done by analyzing as a class a critical essay. You can also search for the stories yourself so that you
can understand more the critique to these stories. Write your draft here.
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Read the following literary criticism by Laurence Marvin Castillo. Try to pinpoint its purpose as a
critical text.
Laurence Marvin Castillo is an educator, essayist, and literary critic. An assistant professor at
the University of the Philippines Los Baños, Mr. Castillo has published critical essays and research
works in many journals such as Kritika Kultura, Philippine Humanities Review, Inquire: Journal of
Comparative Literature, and Likhaan Journal. He has written book chapters for A Reader in Philippine
Film: History and Criticism, Salita ng Sandata: Bonifacio’s Legacies to the People’s Struggles, and
Bright Sign, Bright Age: Critical Essays in Philippine Studies. He has also won a Palanca Award in the
sanaysayFDWHJRU\LQ
Fig. 6.1. Laurence Marvin Castillo
Villa’s Specters: Transcolonial and Paternal Hauntologies

in Footnote To Youth: Tales Of The Philippines And Others
By Laurence Marvin Castillo
Jose Garcia Villa’s sole short story collection Footnote to Youth: Tales of the
Philippines and OthersZDVUHOHDVHGLQDVKLVSURQRXQFHGHɣRUWWRSHQHWUDWHWKH
American modernist canon. Villa’s literary move was principally characterized by his
aestheticist self-fashioning as a “beautiful soul” whose artistic practice transcended his
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fashioning, the collection ushers in the ghosts of the historical and personal realities
that he sought to obscure. First, the essay argues that Villa’s intense devotion to the
apolitical and ahistorical tenets of aestheticism, or the doctrine of art for art’s sake, was
in itself conditioned by his biographical circumstances and historical location within the
American colonial milieu, particularly by his rebellion against his own anti-American
father and against the paternity of his country. Second, it elaborates how Villa’s attempt
at paternal surrogacy in the United States fed him to the discursive operations of
ethnocentrism inherent in American modernism, and how his choice to work within the
PLPHWLFJHQUHRI¿FWLRQUHQGHUHGKLVGLVDYRZHGHWKQLFLGHQWLW\EDUHDQGYXOQHUDEOHWR
the predations of modernist racism. Third, employing Derrida’s notion of hauntology,
the essay analyzes the collection as conjurers of the transcolonial and paternal specters
that haunted Villa’s artistic practice.
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,Q&KDUOHV6FULEQHU¶V6RQVSXEOLVKHG-RVH*DUFLD9LOOD¶V Big Idea
Footnote to Youth: Tales of the Philippines and Others7KH¿UVW
In research journals, an
Filipino-authored collection of short stories to be released in the abstract usually introduces an
8QLWHG6WDWHV86WKHERRNFRQVLVWHGRIWZHQW\RQHVKRUWVWRULHV article or essay. This is a short
set in the Philippines and the US, most of which initially saw print description of what the study is all
in several American periodicals. The publication of the collection about in a nutshell, the objectives
that were undertaken, the theories
came three years after Villa arrived in the United States, with the
used, the methods executed, and
intention of leaving behind a relatively successful literary career the general results.
in the Philippines and penetrating the American literary scene.
While the collection was rejected by several publishers and later
on greeted with lukewarm critical and commercial response in the US, its publication was celebrated
back home as an event that beckoned Villa’s entry into the American modernist canon.

Footnote to Youth DOVRPDUNHG9LOOD¶V¿QDOIRUD\WR¿FWLRQ,QKLVHVVD\³7KH0DNLQJRI-RVH*DUFLD
Villa’s Footnote to Youth,” Jonathan Chua while tracing the book’s publication history analyzes how it
was published and received within a modernist racialized framework set within the colonial relations
between the US and the Philippines. Weaving through correspondences, documents pertinent to the
publication of the stories, and the stories in the collection, Chua argued that Villa’s work is positioned
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himself as a universal writer and contemporaneously erasing his socio-political roots was eventually
foiled by the collection’s publication.
From this suggestion, this paper argues that the collection works to usher in the presence of
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“ghosts” operates according to the deconstructive notion of hauntology introduced by Jacques Derrida
in The Specters of Marx+DXQWRORJ\ RU ³WKHORJLF RI KDXQWLQJ´'HUULGD  LV DPRGDOLW\ LQ
which the absence of the unwritten, silenced, or dead returns to haunt the ontological structure that
renders the presence of the written, articulated, and alive.
It is necessary to mention here that the hauntological workings in Footnote to Youth operated within
the context of transcolonial politics. The term transcolonial suggests that “the delineated boundaries
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specters in the short story collection are in fact contingent on the conditions of transcoloniality that
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and Spanish colonial powers in the early twentieth century Philippines, and in the colonialist politics
that hounded him and positioned him as migrant colonial subject upon his movement to America.
This essay will present the historical and biographical “conditions of possibility” for Villa’s
adherence to a deliberately apolitical and ahistorical literary practice, the historical cartography of
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analysis of the collection as conjurer of the transcolonial and biographical specters that haunt Villa’s
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powers of the Spanish and American colonizers.
The Ghosts of Villa’s Self-fashioning

Villa’s historical exorcism constituted a self-fashioning move informed primarily by the idea that
the artist and his practice are divorced from history, a notion integral to the “art for art’s sake” dictum.
He openly dismissed the socio-political function of art, particularly literature, extolling above all the
work’s aesthetic virtue and its eternal and universal value. He rejected the integrality of literary practice
to the nationalist cause, announcing that “the nation is merely adjectival to true art: the noun is art and
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Lopez for “having been unmoved by the ‘stress of times,’” Villa responded, “I do not mix my politics
and economics with my art...I do not believe the economic readjustment of society to be the function of
OLWHUDWXUH´LELG
Reflect Upon
What does the phrase “art for art’s sake” mean?
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Villa’s aesthetic purism must be understood as a disposition haunted by his personal engagements
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by Spain to the new imperial master, the US via the Treaty of Paris. With the country’s recovery from
more than three centuries of Spanish colonialism subsequently replaced by a new colonizer, the country
was positioned within a transcolonial phase. Villa would have been undoubtedly well-acquainted with
the political climate of the era, as his father, Col. Simeon Villa, served as physician to Gen. Emilio
Aguinaldo, the president of the First Philippine Republic. As recorded in his diaries, the older Villa was
part of the company that joined Aguinaldo’s odyssey during the Filipino-American War to escape from
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against the American military and civilian forces—Macario Sakay’s Tagalog Republic, the Moro resistance
forces, the Colorum insurrectos, the Sakdalista, to the then newly-established Communist Party of
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members of the Philippine oligarchy sought to assert independence through parliamentary and legal
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struggle for independence also found expression in literary productions, as signaled by the emergence
of seditious nationalist works in various genres—political plays of Aurelio Tolentino, poetry of Fernando
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expressions of nationalist resistance were contained by the invasive Americanization throughout the
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Public education system exposed the students to Western culture, with literature studied in
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conditioned Filipino sensibilities to regard Filipino literary works with disdain, dismissing their
historically conditioned qualities as didactic and propagandist. Along with the entry of the New Critical
framework which focused on literature’s autonomy from history, the Filipino student’s literary taste was
habituated according to Western aesthetic standards. In addition, the mode of American instruction
taught Filipino writers a new language, and subsequently, a new direction for literary practice. As such,
the emergence of Filipino writers in English like Villa shifted the imperatives of literary practice from
commitment to nationalism to the emulation of Western literature and the endorsement of Western
literary aesthetics. Nationalist sentiments were exorcised from the province of literature, so to speak.
While Villa can indeed be regarded as what Chua refers to as “the apotheosis of the epistemic
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have been possibly furthered by his estranged relationship with his anti-American father. Staunchly
antipathetic toward his son’s literary interest, Colonel Villa pressured him to pursue a medical
profession. The younger Villa submitted to his father’s will and enrolled in a degree in medicine, and
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contributed to the literary section of the Philippines Herald, and gradually established his reputation
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for the series of poems “Man Songs,” published in Herald and a short story “Appasionata” which
appeared in Philippine Collegian. Most controversial in the “Man Songs” series was “Song of Ripeness,”
particularly with its vivid comparison of coconuts to a woman’s breasts. “Appasionata” is a story about a
seductress who permits young men to see her naked body through a peephole. Conceding to the charges
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committee of the university, headed by Jorge Bocobo, dean of the School of Law. Villa defended himself
in a statement invoking literary license and expressing that there is no connection between art and
morality. Villa deemed that “Philippine audiences had misunderstood him,” and were too blinded by
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contest for the short story “Mir-i-nisa,” and used the prize money to migrate to the United States in
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These personal predicaments, along with the epistemic conditioning brought about by his exposure
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writes that “his rebellion against god and surrogate authorities, against literal and symbolic patriarchs,
and his refusal to belong to any physical/real country may be an expression of his fear, dreams and
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rebellion was clearly an expression of the artist’s bourgeois tendency to alienate himself from historical
and political realities and to search for a metaphysical self, “a spirit that the human body and worldly
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Born in Manila, Philippine Islands. His father is a physician, and wanted him to follow a medical
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unacademic because he believes academism cramps the soul. As for the Philippines, he cannot stand
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establish that he did not belong to his country, that his artistic “spirit” transcended the socio-historical
realities of his country in particular. In the words of San Juan: [Villa] struggled to fashion in words and
deeds ‘a beautiful soul’ not in Europe or North America but somewhere in between, in the ‘occult zone
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intellectuals wandering the arcades of the metropoles’ culture-industry and subterranean art-world.
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Eventually, Villa’s “beautiful soul” would be haunted by the specters of his socio-historical subject-
position when he moved to America, where the seemingly distant colonial realities of his renounced
country loomed like a ghost over the ethnocentric logos of modernism.
The Colonial Specters of Modernism

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founded a short-lived mimeographed quarterly publication called Clay: A Literary Notebook, which
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economic and cultural atmosphere that blanketed American society.
Reflect Upon
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why not?
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
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The America that Villa set foot on was being tormented by the damages of the First World War
and plagued by the enormous economic slowdown during the third decade of the century. The period
of his arrival was also marked by the massive entry of Filipinos in the United States, some were
pensionados or scholars who came from the local elite allied to the American colonial government,
some were self-supporting students like Villa, while the others were blue-collar workers hired to supply
labor force in plantations and canneries. These laborers arrived in the US only to experience oppressive
labor conditions propelled by racism, inciting them to engage in labor activism. This situation was
contemporaneous with the labor unrest back in the Philippines where American colonial intrusion
translated to the oppressive restructuring of the local economy. With the closure of canneries, harsh
wage cuts, oversupply in plantation labor, and attempts to repatriate Filipino laborers during the Great
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white hatred toward many Filipinos, whose growing population presented them as competitors for labor,
became widespread. Single Filipino men were regarded as sexual threats to white and Mexican women
in taxi-dance halls, and violent race riots intended to push Filipinos away from several communities
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Racism likewise saddled Villa’s attempt to penetrate a highly competitive literary market that was
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American periodicals. Despite his signifying moves to present himself as universal writer, Villa could
never escape the haunting of his ethnicity. Ironically, his ethnicity conditioned his publishing potential
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his works in Scribner’sPDJD]LQHWKHHWKQLFÀDYRURIVRPHRIKLVVWRULHVDWWUDFWHGHGLWRUVRIOLWWOHQRQ
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modernist thought. Instituted on the liberal philosophy that emerged during the nineteenth century,
modernism served as the West’s response to the political and economic upheavals during the early
decades of the twentieth century. Owing to the Reformation movement’s dismantling of feudalism and
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In the United States, the impact of the First World War and the rapid economic growth followed by
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industries, engage in massive urbanizing projects, and embark on technological ventures. Amidst the
speedy operations of industrialization and technologization that enabled Western powers to expand
their economic and political exercises across non-Western territories, modernism as a philosophical,

political, and cultural framework responded to the imperative of constructing the modern Western self
against the rest of the world—an epistemological procedure founded on an ethnocentric ethos that was
haunted by the oppressive reality of colonialism.
From its construction in the feudal imagination as the Christian imperative to save the “native
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remedy to what the West perceived as the backward, uncivilized, traditional character of non-Western
societies. Supplemented by the invasive discursive proliferation of the dichotomy between the modern
and traditional, the West was constructed in the global imaginary as the center of progress. It was on
this modernist imaging of the Western self as the purveyor of civilization that the imperialist discourses
of “benevolent assimilation” and “manifest destiny” instrumentalized by the Americans in colonizing
the Philippines were predicated.
The ethnocentric ethos naturally found its way in the realm of artistic practice, which was likewise
severely altered with the entry of the modernist age. With the diminution of feudalism, Western artistic
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Moreover, the imperative to create something new surfaced as a response to the changing capitalist
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popular cultural artifacts consumed by the emerging mass urban society, and to contemporaneously
pursue an artistic practice that would never be carried away by the commodifying climate of the period.
Such disposition explains the supervening alienation of the artist from the currents of the political
and economic situation. The doctrine of aestheticism or “art for art’s sake” thus burgeoned, and the
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everyday values of commercialism, morality, and any other sort of instrumental or practical purpose”
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canon on strictly formal, literary grounds. The project of American cultural imperialism in colonies like
the Philippines propagated these twin doctrines, hammering in the minds of the native intellectuals the
superiority of Western literature and alienating them from their own literary traditions. So to speak,
aesthetic standards valorized by the West were universalized as parameters of literariness through the
pedagogical and cultural workings of colonization.
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Villa’s patron who included his stories in his annual anthology of best short stories and whose critical
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Ultimately, despite his attempt to craft universal literature by employing experimentations and
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especially since he chose a literary genre that rendered him vulnerable to the discursive violence of
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system separate from, although dependent on the cultural- historical reality in which it is created and
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story was not diminished by modernist innovations, and was even highlighted with the introduction of
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temporal and spatial reality. As such, the genre is one of “the immanent forms that somehow fail to achieve
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destiny was parasitically reliant. In Footnote to Youth, Villa transcribed his metaphysical explorations
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the desolate spaces of Depression-era America. How these mimetic worlds evoked in the stories serve
as haunting spaces of Villa’s exorcised history will be explored in the succeeding portions of this essay.
Tales of the Haunted Fatherland

In his introduction to the collection, O’Brien remarked that Villa’s literary practice was “deeply
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of local ethnographic details as the setting of twelve of his stories in the service of creating a literature
of universality. Nevertheless, while his works were propelled by an overt lack of political agenda, these
ethnographic constructions brought forth historical specters that he tried to bury under his obsessive
adherence to aestheticism.
The agrarian landscape of the rural country against which Villa imposed his existentialist narratives
is rendered by him in passionate and romantic descriptions. The tales of the Philippines are indeed
brimming with ornate, carefully observed images of the tropical countryside— from the ground “broken
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in “Yet Do They Strife.” These are in fact spectral traces of Euro-Hispanic literature that proliferated
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O’Brien recognized when he remarked “the strong Spanish sense of form and color” in the collection
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The spectral mood of Spanish costumbrismo hovers over Villa’s Philippine stories, smoothening
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folkloric love story apparently situated in the precolonial period as evinced by non-Christian character
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out, by its narration that echoes “the style of a traditional oral performance” even while evincing
the narrative aesthetics of Spanish romanticism. The latter period of their early colonial conquests
in Manila is also a tale of tragic love temporally structured within a few decades before the entry of
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sovereignty during their early colonial conquests in Manila. The rest of the stories are populated by
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The reality of Spanish colonialism likewise prowls the countryside of Villa’s imagination through
the spectral ushering of the Spanish reduccion system. From this spatial technology of colonial power
emerged the epistemological production of identities according to the territorial binary of urbanity
versus rurality. The reduccion GLVFRXUVH UDPL¿HG WKH HQGXULQJ YLHZ RI WKH FRXQWU\VLGH DV WKH VSDFH
of the tulisanes and the barbarians, owing to the fact that the rural landscape is usually the setting
of colonial resistance and agrarian struggles. That the stories of Manila-bred Villa are remarkably
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the more “civilized” city dwellers from the rural “barbarians.” Rehearsing his romantic evocation of
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American colonialism, Villa appropriated his visioning of the countryside from Sherwood Anderson
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privileges character development over plot structure. Attended by his poetic evocation of the pastoral
landscape to universalize the narrative milieu, Villa adopted the Andersonian narrative mode with the
intention of focusing on universal themes rather than on the material realities of his characters.
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example of the Anderson story transplanted to Philippine soil,” a young farmer Dodong asks for his

father’s consent to marry the barrio lass Teang. Eventually, Dodong encounters the hardships and
sorrows of married life and regretfully realizes that his early marriage has taken his youth away from
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marry his childhood sweetheart. Whipped by years of embitterment and disillusionment over his fate,
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The emphatic positioning of these ideals as extracted from the rural backdrop, while framed to clearly
articulate Villa’s existential statement on the oppressive cycle of human life only highlights the dialectics
of the human condition and the socio-economic reality that contains it. In fact, the distillation of these
ideals does not really serve to obscure the story’s ethnographic background. What is achieved instead
is these ideals acquiring meaning from, within, and through the rural context. As such, while Villa
clearly resorted to abstractions and philosophical musings to give shape and weight to the forfeiture
of Dodong’s youth, he, owing to the exigencies of narrative worlding, also rendered these ideals visible
and concrete in the episodes of peasant life—early marriage, unbridled childbirth, domestic travails,
and hardships of farm work. It is precisely through such narrative and semantic operation that one
may fully interpret “Footnote to Youth” as a story of a young man’s confrontation with the oppressive
cyclicality of peasant life in the agrarian countryside.
As the reader further moves through Villa’s provincial stories, one encounters characters similar to
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peasant life. Nevertheless, as in the case of the title story, these ruminations cannot fully disavow the
historical and economic base they are situated in. In fact, Villa’s consistent representation of rural
life as an oppressive cycle of birth, youth, marriage, and death is attuned to the repetitive rhythms of
agrarian activity in the countryside.
In the second story “The Fence,” Villa made use of the titular image to describe the oppressions
wrought by this rural order. A woman builds a fence to isolate herself from the neighbor impregnated
by her estranged husband, and in the process, condemns her son Iking to incurable solitude within the
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feudal religion.
His mother would pray. Could she pray? His soul asked... He stood motionless. And
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the narrative with the temper of a Christian morality tale, this detail temporally situates
the story within the American occupation when Tagalog translations of the bible were
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illiteracy in the story however release the specters of Spanish colonialism, conjuring
the theological and pedagogical machinery of the earlier colonizers. Here, one could
detect Villa suggesting the link between rural backwardness and the enduring feudal
impositions of the Spanish colonizers.
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disseminated by the Americans toward the end of the nineteenth century, and as a rebellion against the
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image that he himself was familiar with—that of the city moving linearly toward the industrializing
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on the American colonial order—a modernity that moves to exorcise the feudal ghosts of the Spanish
colonial system.
Nevertheless, in the eyes of Tona, a mother abandoned by a man who fathered her child in the story
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his girlfriend Maria, is a cause for trepidation, akin to her own fear toward her son’s eventual journey
to manhood. Fearing that Berto might eventually become like his father, Tona approaches Maria’s
mother, telling her to convince her daughter never to go out with her son again. Here, Tona’s anxiety
to accept the movement of time—its vertical passage toward modernization—is depicted as a traumatic
consequence of the rural cycle. This representation of the rural psyche is undoubtedly consistent with
Villa’s perception of the conservatism and backwardness of his country of origin.
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by a counter- progressive rural mindset. In contrast, his male characters are the ones who leave the
countryside for the city, similar to Anderson’s George Willard in Winesburg, Ohio whose eventual
departure from the small town of Winesburg embodies the possibility of escape from the snares of rural
life. After the death of their infant, Ponso in a “Given Woman” suddenly decides to leave Flora, a servant
woman with whom he lived, to go to the city. Even though unsure why he should leave, he decides to
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Ponso’s impulse to embark on this journey clearly suggests his infatuation with the cosmopolis, yielding
to which entails that he must abandon Flora. In the eyes of Ponso, the woman is the antithesis of the
city.
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the narrator’s Uncle Berto remembers Tinang, the woman whom he was forced to abandon in San Diego
in order to follow to his father’s wishes and study in Manila. When he returns to the barrio years later,
the lovers cross paths again and the woman confesses to him that she killed their unborn child. Shocked
by her crime, he bids her a sorrowful goodbye, leaving Tinang to realize from this brief reunion that the
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specters of the patriarchal order prevalent in rural familial dynamics, primarily by constructing women
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represented in proximal reference to their nipa huts. In contrast, the men are itinerant, capable of
moving from the cyclical trap of the countryside to the linear progress of the city. In the case of namesakes
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masculinization of young Berto’s body becomes his mother’s temporal marker for the entry of modernity
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the rural village of San Diego, Uncle Berto’s sojourn in the city and his implied encounter with the
cosmopolitan realities of Manila turn him into a man. The urban versus rural binary is hence rendered
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conservatism. Haunting this heteronormative binary is Villa’s transcolonial disposition, in which the
backward, feudal patriarchy imposed by the Spanish colonialism is contemptuously contrasted with the
favored white male norm of US modernity.
Complementing Villa’s transcolonial imagination of patriarchy is the spectral image of the
repressive father that looms over the countryside. From the spectral father who may possibly haunt his
son in “Death into Manhood” to the violent fathers of “Resurrection,” “Story for my Country” and “Yet
Do They Strife,” Villa’s regression from his estranged relationship with his father is hauntologically
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Jose Rosal escapes from the brutal custody of his father. Gazing at Rizal’s monument, the persona,
Jose’s younger brother soon imagines his lost brother as the national hero incarnate, spectralizing his
older brother in the Rizalian cult. Roughly continuing the trope of escape is the closing story “Yet Do
They Strife,” which tells of another boy’s escape from his wife-beating father, leading him to an eventual
encounter with a wounded man. This episode is haunted by the narrative of the meeting of Elias and
Basilio in Rizal’s Noli Me Tangere.
As noticeable in these two stories and the other Rizal narratives—”The Son of Rizal,” “Daughter of
Rizal,” and “The Man Who Looked Like Rizal”—the national hero becomes positioned as a surrogate
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subaltern protagonists.”
Undoubtedly, these narratives conjure and echo the Philippine state’s canonization of Rizal.
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neocolonial project endorsed by the US empire, as comprehensively exposed by Renato Constantino
in his essay “Veneration without Understanding.” In the hands of the Americanized Villa, the national
hero’s presence as the surrogate for the brutal father and the proverbial fatherland—specters that
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haunted by the phantom of the “imperial Father.”
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sponsored Rizal, in the Philippine stories possesses Villa’s desire to sever his connection with his
own country, which shelters the ghosts of Spanish colonialism, as well as his connection with his own
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to supplant his renounced paternity with the imperial Father. Eventually, as the following analysis will
demonstrate, this attempt at surrogacy would usher in phantoms of the disavowed fatherland.
Specters of the Homeland

In “Untitled Story,” the narrator begins with an evocation of his father’s cruelty: “Father did not
understand my love for Vi, so Father sent me to America to study away from her. I could not do anything
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who sends his son Berto away to Manila to preempt his relationship with a country girl.
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of the “White and Blue Flame” trilogy, as well as the other two independent stories of a Filipino writer’s
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autobiographical details that conjure the specter of Villa’s father. The narrator, similar to Villa, goes to
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against his father who disparages any form of artistic practice. In one instance, the narrator muses “I
had no money and I prayed to God to send me money because I knew I could not get it elsewhere. But
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of paragraphs, the stories visibly resist this poetic erasure of mimesis and release the ghosts of Villa’s
history.
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spectralizes the abandoned home country. Every ushering of the father’s ghost evokes the narrator’s
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country. The narrator thus ruminates:
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America, I nourished the tree of my father till his love had branches and although I had
never played before under the gentleness of his shade now I played in fancy under the
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yearning in the immigrant stories. This newfound desire is aroused in the very moment of his departure
from his homeland and his separation from his father:
Before my father touched my hands on the boat that was to take me to America, I
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The absence of the father, whose presence has been earlier regarded with disdain, now becomes the
source of incompleteness. Villa the writer tried to respond to this unwholeness through what O’Brien
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disposition as literary artist, particularly by his faith in the transcendental potential of art to go beyond
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One expression of Villa’s recourse to the realm of the imagination is his persona’s imposition of
the spectral presence of his abandoned homeland against the alienating wilderness of America. He
particularly spectralizes his father in the foreign land. For instance, in “Walk at Midnight,” he sees his
father come to him in the classroom while the professor lectures, the old man apologizing for a previous
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Inevitably, Villa’s visionary evocation of alienation and yearning in the American landscape
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President Hoover. While his political obliviousness toward the new country is pronounced, as in the
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observations conjure the specter of this present economic misery—from the image of the crippled street
seller, the insertion of a character named David who, unable to shoulder the expenses, leaves school,
to episodes of the narrator’s own destitution in the big city. Severely alienated by this atmosphere of
economic despair, the narrator is haunted by the ghost of his homeland in “Young Writer in a New
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In spite of his indubitably dismal predicament in America, the persona’s evocations clearly
pronounce his desire for assimilation and acceptance in this new country. Imagining such acceptance to
be akin to someone picking a handkerchief on the road, the persona, still haunted by the traumatizing
memory of his homeland, welcomes the idea of surrogacy, while rejecting the thought of returning to
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haunted by the relationship between the Philippine colony and the American empire, as Villa conjured
what Neferti Tadiar observes as the colonial infantilization of the Filipino nation. Since “America, in
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Philippine relations eventually takes on patriarchal terms, with the colonizer positioned as the doting
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This hegemonic construction of the image of the White Father then becomes, for a colonial subject
trapped in the alienating landscape of the empire, instrumental to the discursive operations of paternal
surrogacy. Interestingly, for Villa’s persona, the desired American paternity must supplant not just
the absence of the homeland and the father, but also the thwarted consummation of erotic desire—the
frustrated desire for his childhood sweetheart Vi in the faraway country. Consequently, the persona
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alterity, and in so doing, immediately positions him within the matrix of racial relations in the colonial
center: “There was a boy Jack Wicken ate at the dining hall who would give me ugly glances because I
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Conjuring the reality of racism prevalent during Villa’s arrival in the United States, the persona’s
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reciprocated by the object of desire. The desire for integration and acceptance is visibly impeded,
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nominalized through the spectral reality of colonialism that constitutes the primary encounter between
his homeland and the surrogate country.
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confesses that it was his mother who introduced him to the Christian faith: “My mother taught me to
pray. I went with her to churches and at night we prayed before the picture of God. God had a beard in
the picture but when I was in God’s arms I felt only the warmth and gentleness of His fold, I could not
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This memory, a specter of Spanish colonial theology, haunts the dynamics of the persona’s desire.
This very image of the bearded God in Christian iconography is the one the persona implores to in
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resolution to his incompleteness, even though the persona’s entreaty takes on a somewhat secular
temper with his symbolic non-recognition of the bearded image. This infatuation with the image of
divinity is similarly demonstrated in “The Woman Who Looked Like Christ,” a story of a young man
who falls in a love with a woman whose face resembles a young Christ. Queerly conjured, the male
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Quite amusingly, the persona’s desire for the image of the White Father, Jack, is seemingly
reconciled with the specter of the Hispanic God when he implores, “God, let him love me even as I love
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norm of American colonial discourse, therefore displaces the traditional feudal deity in the process of
violent hierarchy.
Accompanying this exalting vision of the mythical white male is the persona’s realization that
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departure, he exclaims, “I want to see Jack. I want him always to be in my life...even if it hurts. I am
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of the country’s masochistic relationship with the US empire, and more particularly, of the Filipino
migrant’s travail in a highly-racialized ecosystem where his desire for assimilation is perpetually foiled
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In this penultimate evocation of “Young Writer in a New Country,” the last American story in the
collection, the persona, undoubtedly already acquainted at this point with the political, economic, and
racial dynamics in his new country, narrates his imagined integration:
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I, father of tales. Fathering tales I became rooted to the new land. I became lover to the
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In keeping with Villa’s aesthetic purism, the persona valorizes his artistic activity as in itself an act
of paternity, and a way of resolving the political, economic and racial contradictions that characterized
his migrant experience. Reading the writer’s self-imposed exile through the psychoanalytic lens, San
Juan eloquently synthesizes Villa’s recourse to the imaginative realm of literary practice in his attempt
to consummate his assimilationist desire amidst the hostilities of the imperial environs of America:
...the crisis of exile...is dissolved by metaphoric sublimation: In his visionary re-

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antinomic discourses of place, body, inheritance, and need converge in the self- exiled
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Conclusion
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specters of the colonial realities that he did not seek to discuss in his works. In fact, this collection
clearly traces Villa’s movement in the matrix of colonial relations. He disavowed the Philippines as an
oppressive fatherland fraught by the specters of Spanish colonialism, escaping to the American desert
to seek a surrogate White paternity, only to be rejected because of his identity as imperial subject.
Critical responses to the collection were scathing toward Villa’s American stories, while registering
interest toward the local stories that highlight his native roots. Moreover, many reviews concur that his
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Thus, contrary to the monumentalizing news that circulated in the local literary community, it did not
catapult him to his desired place in the modernist pantheon.
Remarkably, Villa, understandably daunted by the lukewarm reception to his American publishing
debut, published almost nothing for a decade, until he released the poetry collection Have Come,
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poetry and abandon prose, Villa later on claimed that “a poet is the highest thing, the hardest thing to
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modernist aspiration and self-fashioning as a universal writer.
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Source: Castillo, L.M. (2014) Villa’s Specters: Transcolonial and Paternal Hauntologies in Footnote To Youth:
Tales Of The Philippines and Others. Philippine Humanities Review, Vol. 16, No. 1.
1. What is literary criticism?
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2. What are the characteristics of a literary criticism in terms of content and language?
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3. How can a literary criticism be used to better understand a literary piece?
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Writing a Critical Paper

You have written a critical paper before in your previous grade levels. What you must remember
in attempting the feat once again for this module is that literary criticism does not look at literature
as a way to proliferate a didactic message. This means that literary criticism does not solely look at
a text to see if it has a message to say to the reader and whether this message is good or bad. Rather,
literary criticism sees in the text what the readers do not see, and leaves the readers to think about what
was discovered by themselves. Literary criticism also does not always have to delve into religious or
nationalistic interpretations—it can be anything about the literary text on hand, as long as it is within
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Reflect Upon
What does it mean to be “critical” when writing a critical paper?
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A quick, insightful, and fun way to discuss your theories and insights in class is through a short
paper. A short paper is literally “short.” It consists of one or two pages of written critique that will
succinctly discuss your idea, realization, or concept regarding a literary selection. The point here is
to introduce your idea or discovery about a literary selection to the class, which they can comment on
and improve through constructive criticism. It is much similar to the writing workshops that the great
national artists have established beforehand.
How do you start with your short paper? Of course, choose a literary selection that you want to
analyze. It is preferred if you choose the same literary selection which you were asked to research on in
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scholarly work, it is time for you to start writing.
Always begin with an outline. What do you want to say, and how do you want to say it? This outline
is tentative and may always change as you keep on writing your paper. The important thing with an
outline is that you can clearly follow it as you write along.
Next, start with a joke, an anecdote, or a quotation from the literary text as your introduction. The
idea is to hook your readers so that they will be more willing to listen to your idea. After this, quickly
state as a way of sign posting RUOHWWLQJ WKH UHDGHUNQRZ ZKDW \RXDUH JRLQJWR ZULWH DERXWLQ \RXU
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a hypothesis or a conclusion in mind. You may also give a background of the story, especially if it hasn’t
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because you only have two pages to write about your whole analysis.
The body of your essay must try to discuss the relation of your idea with the literary text. What
has your idea discovered about the literary text? How did the literary text show you or enlighten you
about your idea? What can your idea say about local culture and society? What other future research
topics can be established from your idea? The body is critical in your analysis. If you need to quote from
the literary text that you have chosen, do so carefully by choosing which are essential to develop your
argument.
The conclusion is just like any conclusion when you are writing an essay—summarize what you have
said or discussed in the body in two to three sentences. You may also want to conclude by referencing
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appealing to the readers. You may also suggest future research projects for your readers, which they
may undertake if they are interested in your topic.

1. In writing a critical essay on a literary text, why is it important to also have other sources?
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________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
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2. How can you make the conclusion of your essay stronger so that you leave a lasting mark to your
readers?
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An example of a short critical paper is J. Neil Garcia’s “Revaluing Value,” which can be found in an
introduction to Likhaan: The Journal of Contemporary Philippine Literature, a refereed journal that
showcases various unpublished Philippine writing, both in Filipino and in English.
Dr. J. Neil Garcia is a poet and a literary and cultural critic who has written numerous collections of
poetry and essays. He is currently teaching creative writing and comparative literature at the University
of the Philippines Diliman, where he also serves as an associate for poetry in the Institute of Creative
Writing. He has won several literary awards including the Palanca and the National Book Award from
the Manila Critics Circle.
Fig. 6.2 Dr. J. Neil Garcia

Source: https://alchetron.com/J-Neil-Garcia
Revaluing Value
An Introduction to Likhaan: The Journal of Contemporary Philippine Literature
$QH[FHUSW
By Dr. J. Neil Garcia
At an important public lecture in the University of the Philippines Diliman campus last August, one
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The speaker did not recognize the Humanities, which occurred nowhere in his painstakingly
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programs with their respective research outputs. The College of Social Sciences and Philosophy was
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was misleading, because Philippine Studies in our university, from its inception, has always drawn as
much from the Humanities as from the Social Sciences, being co-administered by the CSSP with two
other colleges—both of which profess avowedly humanistic orientations.
Nonetheless, the oversight is a familiar one: it simply attests to the secondary and even
epiphenomenal position occupied by the disciplines of the arts and humanities in a national education
system that has come to see progress and development as being the privileged province and exclusive
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Reflect Upon
What is the value of arts and humanities to you as a student?
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And yet progress and development, even when they are understood in strictly economic terms,
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universities heard from two plenary speakers inventories of hard data that showed just how supporting
the arts—and the creative industries that they generate—makes sound economic sense, especially in the
knowledge regimes of this new century.
The clarion call was sounded: there really is no reason why the University of the Philippines
should not promote the growth and welfare of its humanities programs, as well as their resident artists
and scholars, because the creative industries—whose components are already in evidence across its
campuses—may well hold the key to improving the lives of the vast majority of our people, who continue
to be uneducated and poor.
It’s easily apparent that the University of the Philippines hosts the country’s highest density of
resident writers, visual and digital artists, musicians, performers, content providers, animators,

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country’s economy, as the works of creatives already unmistakably do, in many other parts of the world.
These artistic products and processes collectively constitute our national culture, which migratory
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especially through the agency of diasporic Filipinos located in every other corner of the planet.
Among other things, the mission of artists is to promote forms of embodied, “imaginal,” and
creative literacy, that serve to complement as well as provide a solid foundation for the other more
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they bridge the historical, cognitive, and ontological gaps between our enduring orality on one hand and
our uneven and precarious literacy on the other, bringing into the durable media of the contemporary
arts the stories, insights, and rituals of our country’s copious and immemorial cultures, whose deepest
intuition recognizes the dualisms of our world, even as in the same breath it seeks to transcend them,
by yearning into the radiance of the unity that underlies all forms.
On the other hand, we perhaps also need to remember the truth that value—a crucial buzzword
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Because humans are symbol-making creatures capable of inwardness and sublime vision, for our
species value can also be and is, in many important ways, intangible. Despite the convincing purchase
of the “creative industries” argument, we need to ask ourselves, precisely in regard to this issue: Should
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What is happiness? Why do we crave “connectedness” and love? What is gratitude? Why must we
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a fully human or even just a “livable” life? Given the socioeconomic pressures that higher education
in our country is increasingly needing to bear, we need to believe that there remains institutional
room, especially in this esteemed university, for the short story, poem, or play that cannot be remotely
instrumentalized, and yet insists on raising these and other similar questions— whose most likely value,
in turn, is that they can be raised at all ...
I am reminded of a high school classmate and friend—an accomplished scientist has been living
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“It is you, in the humanities, who make life meaningful; while it is we—the scientists—who make life
possible.” Even now, the second part of his sentence still gives me pause. Isn’t everything named—
that dawns in our consciousness—meaning? Who gave scientists their idea of possibility, when before
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might he have gotten it? How are intuitions of collective life acquired? And what of life itself? Surely it’s
not just about protoplasm, the convergence of physical and biochemical processes, or the replication
of genetic material. Finally, “making” is something artists do all the time. We who study and produce
literature sometimes call it poiesisDUWLVWLFFUHDWLYLW\LVDV$ULVWRWOHRQFHSXWLWWKHEULQJLQJLQWREHLQJ
of something new in the world.
One of the simplest and truest “lessons” in that wonderful
Big Idea
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abundant folklore and mythology of our peoples, and the would sometimes clash because
of different beliefs, theoretical
paradoxical procedure of most artists, have always attested foundations, and perspectives.
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both analytical decomposition and disciplinal boundaries. The educators, and researchers, you
contact zones between the arts and the sciences are multiple and must be able to respect each
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together.
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do in analogical modes of thinking and perceiving. Thus, they should not be made to compete with one
another. We dignify our world—and ourselves—by recognizing wholeness. We parse and hierarchize
knowledge to our own peril. In the words of National Artist Edith Lopez Tiempo, “Truth is the world
believed: / only what the eye sees, / and the heart approves.”
While UP has certainly made great and admirable strides in equalizing incentives and opportunities
among its constituents, a paradigm shift is necessary, still and all, in view of recent global trends toward
unbridled materialist scientism, and given the way priorities in the education system have been planned
and operationalized, across the decades, in our country.
For instance, it would be nice if arts high schools could be set up as a complement to the science
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infrastructure that would function as creativity hubs, with the requisite studios, workshops, ateliers,
“thinking spaces,” and performance venues, in which resident and visiting creatives might get to work,
in a variety of solitary and collaborative arrangements.
In accounting for the University’s “suprastructure” of intellectual workers, the input of cultural
practitioners and creatives might likewise be included, their productions catalogued and celebrated
alongside the scholarly articles and books that have thus far enjoyed the exclusive attention of the
various survey-takers, with their cumbersome diagrams and number-laden charts. The much-repeated
lament over the University’s dismal research pro le can perhaps be palliated when the many excellent
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poems, memoirs, biographies, essays, plays, painting and sculpture exhibits, design projects, videos,
installations, “happenings” and performances, curatorial practices, and countless other instances of
creative productivity are incorporated into a more holistic picture of our University’s overall literacy
agenda. There may be no local or global precedents for this kind of metric, but seeing as how ranking
systems are pretty much a matter of product branding, it’s about time we consider originating our
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document, direct, and inspire.
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our beloved University, bringing the various academic knowledges to converse with one another. Here
the University’s many researchers and creatives may get to envision—and subsequently, fashion or
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rigor, and ingenuity of the hard sciences.
Source: Garcia, J.N. (2016). Revaluing Value. Likhaan: The Journal of Contemporary Philippine Literature. Quezon
City, Philippines: UP Institute of Creative Writing.
1. What is the main argument of the paper?
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________________________________________________________________
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VLPLODULWLHVDQGGLɣHUHQFHVEHWZHHQWKHWZR¿HOGV"
________________________________________________________________
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3. How can you promote unity in the academe?
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Beyond Walls 5.1

6.3 Go
Apply
Online
It in Real Life
As a member of the faculty of a prestigious university, you are required to write a critical paper
for publication to a reputable journal on literature. This is a major requirement by the university
administration for tenure. So in writing a critical paper, you need to choose a literary piece to
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a critical paper is written based on previous discussions, as well as the critical eye in discussing
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your editor following the format of a critical paper. Also, print the manuscript, depending on the
preference of your editor in terms of format and submission, so that you can have your articles
published in a journal.
There are a couple of reliable websites online that discuss the essence and history of literary
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global society:
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Essential Learning
Literary criticism is often ignored in Philippine literature. Literary criticism, however, is

essential because it not only informs the readers of what they may discover through a literary text,
but also shapes society for it criticizes the context in which the text was written in. There are many
functions of literary criticism. It may be to review a literary text, to give an informed opinion about
a subject matter or issue, to invoke discussions, or to reevaluate texts.
One way to meaningfully discuss a literary selection in the classroom is through a short paper
that can be shared through paper or panel presentations. In this way, you may apply your critical
thinking skills on the texts of your locality or region and be able to discuss it with your fellow
classmates. Criticism is instrumental in fostering healthy academic discussions in any setting.
Thus, it is an indispensable part of Philippine literature that must be continually practiced and
discoursed about.

Module
7 Looking Beyond: The Future of Philippine Literature

1. Identify the geographic, linguistic, and ethnic dimensions of Philippine literary history
from precolonial to contemporary.
2. Identify representative texts and authors from each region.
3. Value the contributions of local writers to the development of literary traditions.
4. Explain the relationship of the context with the text’s meaning.
5. Produce a creative representation of a literary text by applying multimedia skills.
What is next for Philippine literature? Have you ever wondered what new book will be printed
soon, what new literature will be depicted in the next blockbuster movie, or what new poems will be
published?
There are many new genres coming out in Philippine literature. Some of them have gained ground
and following. Some have branched out to other forms of media, such as theater or movies. Some are
just beginning and are starting to blaze their own path in the local literature scene.
One of these had everyone surprised at how popular it has become. The comics or komiks, as it is
known in the Philippines, is one of the most beloved forms of published work. It appears in newspapers
daily and has been the go-to entertainment form of some Filipinos. Some of the most famous ones are
Mang Ambo of Larry Alcala, Pugad Baboy by Pol Medina, and Kikomachine Komix by Manix Abrera.
However, there is one comic book that has gained a lot of momentum in mainstream media.
Fig. 7.1. Carlo Vergara’s “Ang Kagilas-Gilas na Pakikipagsapalaran ni Zsazsa Zaturnnah”

has gained popularity among Filipino readers, eventually making its impact in
Philippine theater and in the movies.
Source: http://static.comicvine.com/uploads/scale_large/0/77/1856462-zzzcover.jpg
Carlo Vergara’s Ang Kagilas-Gilas na Pakikipagsapalaran ni Zsazsa Zaturnnah has won the
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IROORZVWKHOLIHRIDVXSHUKHURLQWKHOLNHVRIWonder Woman or DarnaLWKDVDJD\PDOHFKDUDFWHULQ
the lead, who is named Ada. He manages a beauty parlor and believes in himself, although his parents
have disowned him. After a series of failures and a failed relationship, Ada moves to a small town and
receives a rock from the sky with the word “Zaturnnah” on it. When he ingested it, he shouts “Zaturnnah!”
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Big Idea
Another area of literature that combines imagery and text is children’s literature. This literature
makes use of storybooks that showcase the illustrations and the story, both elements adding meaning to
the world being created within the work. Storybooks and comics have that effect: there is visualization of
what the story is and a text to tell what is happening, but the visuals and the text carry different meanings
that work best when combined.
The character of Zsazsa Zaturnnah has gained a loyal cult following among comic book readers
in the country. It is so successful that it became a stage play, with Eula Valdez as Zsazsa and Tuxqs
Rutaquio as Ada. The play was staged many times, with the last one being in Tanghalang Pilipino where
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awards, including best supporting actor and best screen song from the Gawad Tanglaw awards.
How come Zsazsa Zaturnnah gained so much popularity over the years and is still gaining popularity
up until now? What makes comics so endearing to its readers that even now, newspapers have a popular
comics section? What does this say about the future of Philippine literature?
The Future of Philippine Literature

What are some of the current trends in Philippine literature? Here are some of the latest genres
emerging in Philippine literature:
• Children’s Literature±&KLOGUHQ¶VOLWHUDWXUHKDVPDGHDSDUDGLJPVKLIWDVLWQRZLQFOXGHV
contemporary stories that are no longer didactical in presentation. Today, many storybooks
discuss controversial and sensitive issues in the context of the child experience. These include
bullying, death, illnesses, calamities, sexuality, politics, and child abuse, just to name a few.
Writers such as Luis Gatmaitan, Eugene Evasco, Rhandee Garlitos, and Sergio Bumatay III,
among others, have taken this challenge of producing works that talk about contemporary
issues and empowering the child. Writers work actively with illustrators such as the people
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Philippines is known to have had stories about the unknown for as long as it can be remembered,
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by Dean Francis Alfar, who has written and edited stories under this genre.
• Avant-garde poetry±7KHVHDUHSRHPVWKDWSXVKWKHERXQGDULHVRIZKDWLVH[SHFWHGDVWKH
norm. In that sense, these kinds of poems experiment with form, phrasing, ideas, imagery, and
the like. Some poets who have written avant-garde poems are Angelo Suarez, Paolo Manalo,
Conchitina Cruz, Arbeen Acuña, and Marc Gabba.
• Contemporary essay ± 7KH FRQWHPSRUDU\ HVVD\ QRZDGD\V LV XQUHVWULFWHG DQG H[SORUHV
diverse topics such as dysfunctional families, LGBT issues, terrorism, religion, and/or faith.

It is a far cry from the common topics of previous essays, because young writers nowadays are
willing to voice their opinions about Filipino society through writing.
Are there other trends that you are familiar with? What are these and what makes you enjoy reading
them?
What are the common elements of the emerging trends in Philippine literature? What made
them become emergent?
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Here are some exemplars from the given trends above:

Dean Francis Alfar is the co-editor and publisher of the yearly Philippine Speculative Fiction
anthology. His novels and short stories have won him several national awards— including a total of
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published in other international journals.
Fig. 7.2. Dean Francis Alfar

Source : http://www.anthologybuilder.com/authorphotos/
photo433.jpg
Six from Downtown
By Dean Francis Alfar
The Wet Market
A week after I arrived in the city, I spent a day at the wet market, negotiating my way down the
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in ice, suspended on hooks, swimming in plastic pails and low metal drums, whose names brought
back memories of my childhood: palos, pating, alimasag, pindangga, lapu lapu, apahap, sap sap,
pompano, tambacol, labahita, malasugi, pugita. At other stalls, I found trays of lato, seaweed that
resembled a miniature bunch of grapes which my parents loved dipping in a mix of crushed garlic and
spicy vinegar, as well as palm-sized oysters, their dull shells encrusted with barnacles.
Beyond Walls 5.1

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One stall’s sign captured my attention and got my taste buds going: Fresh Sirena. I smiled to myself,
surprised at how many years had passed since I last tasted mermaid. When I was a child growing up in
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and seemed ungainly in the water, but none of that mattered since I loved being out at sea with him.
“They think it’s unlucky,” he told me once, when I observed that it seemed only men went into the
sea. “It does not matter to me that you are a girl. You’re what God has given us and that’s all the luck
we’ll need.”
At a precise position whose exact oceanic location was known only to him, my grandfather would
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all the preparations were done, he’d ask me to attach the bait. This was one of the best parts for me
because I got to open the large biscuit tin with the end of a spoon and select a piece of jewelry. I would
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I took the task. My favorite bait was a gold scapular embossed with the image of the Virgin Mary.
After I had carefully attached the bait to the line, my grandfather would always tell me to sit still,
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one hand unrolling calculated measures of length. Sometimes, it took forever for a mermaid to bite,

and I remember thinking that perhaps they had all the jewelry they’d ever need. While waiting, my
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net that was my part in things.
“Be ready at any time,” he’d intone, exhaling smoke into the air laden with salt.
The mermaids we’d catch ranged from two and half to three feet in length. Their tails, excellent
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seaweed, covering much of the face that was punctured thrice by tortoise-colored eyes and a gasping
mouth lined with sharp tiny teeth.
“Here’s one,” my grandfather would whisper upon sensing the line grow taut, before exploding into
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of the sea, unwilling to let go of the shiny bait. At his signal I’d quickly extend the net, making certain
to trap the glistening tail, and together we’d haul the mermaid into the boat, where my grandfather
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it stopped moving.
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would be dotted by little boats similar to my grandfather’s, and how they’d return hours later, pitching
low in the water, each with several mermaids.
Reflect Upon
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fueled by the memories of my childhood years. The mermaids lay side by side and almost haphazardly
on top of each other, eyes closed and mouths agape, on a bed of crushed ice, most of them barely a
foot long, some even smaller, and their tails had only the barest hint of green. Sensing my disquiet, the
vendor, a middle-aged man with a red bandanna and a bulging belly, explained in a lugubrious tone
that it was the lean season, and that all mermaids were that size nowadays.
I purchased the freshest looking one, astounded at the price per kilo, and asked if there was a
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it himself. I suspected he was overcharging me but gave in when he agreed to throw in a handful of sea
snails for free.
The Business Quarter
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would never expect Marie to be the kind of person who collects a particular kind of story—she’s barely
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for a non-government agency that is dedicated to preserving and promoting the zarzuela, moro-moro,
and iyakan.
“I have a new one for you, Tom,” she began, leaning toward my good ear. “There’s this guy, okay?
Around our age, regular guy, a call center guy, you know? Anyway, he’s at his third call center—you
know how people move around, right? Better pay is always a great motivator. So this guy is handling
customer service for a phone company in the US. He gets a call from a woman, and you know, he
goes through the motions, blah blah blah, the usual—they have a script and everything; they have a
program on their monitors like a walkthrough and everything’s there. I mean, everything. So anyway,
this woman gets upset because she can’t get the guy to understand her problem. But the guy, our guy,
thinks he does. So he asks her questions again, just to make sure, very nicely because his supervisor or
whatever they’re called is listening in—they do, for evaluation, I guess. So he keeps asking her questions
which I guess sounded either really useless or stupid to the woman, and she freaks out. She just freaks
out. She starts calling him names, demands exactly where he is—and I don’t know if they’re allowed to
say where they are, I mean, they’re pretending to be in US, right? They even have the proper accents
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who wouldn’t, you know?”
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up, leaves the call center, drives home, calls his wife’s cell phone and tells her to come home from
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I’ll get to that, in a bit. Anyway, when she arrives, well, when she arrives, he stabs her seventeen times
with a kitchen knife. Seventeen times. I mean, oh my god, right? Then he sits down next to her on the
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crawl to his dead wife’s tits. Imagine that. I don’t know what happened next, supposedly the call center
helped keep the thing hush-hush to protect their image, but I don’t know. Obviously, word got out. But
it’s not in the papers though. And you’d think that something like that would make the tabloids at the
very least. I don’t know.”
As I listened to Marie recount the story in her own inimitable way, her eyes punctuating every
detail, every digression, widening, squinting, liquid with the excitement of sensational tragedy, I felt
slightly dizzy. When her hands grasped an invisible knife and punctured the air between us, repeating
the actions of the call center man, I felt myself bleed, inwardly reeling from the assault as if I were his
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I was exhausted, and there was really nothing more to say or do, apart from picking up my fork and
eating the remnants of the turtle pie.
“So, Tom,” Marie asks, checking her watch. “What’s up with you?”
The Red Light District

In the city, everyone has to make money. I dance every night for a hundred pesos. I know it doesn’t
look like much—it’s more of an allowance from the club owner—but I make a good living through tips.
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when the dancing begins.

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imagining the last girl I was with, and apply ten thick rubber bands around my hardness, each one
looped twice to keep the blood in. Some guys use more, but I’ve found that my pain tolerance peaks at
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When I hear my music play, I make my way to the darkened stage and take my position, my back
to the audience, hands and legs spread apart, leaning against the wall. As the vocals rise, the lightshow
begins and I start to move, grinding to the thumping bass line. I turn and move around the stage,
working the space to the beat, posing, strutting, slowly here, faster there. My hands touch my chest,
trailing down my abs and over between my legs.
My face is impassive—I was taught to show nothing, to let the audience imbue my face with
whatever they want—except for my eyes. I look at them, the ones closest to the stage. I catch the eye of
a young woman in the company of friends. I feel the heat of her gaze, consuming every inch of my body.
I dance for her alone, timing my next motion to a downbeat, suddenly kneeling so close to the woman
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supporting myself with the other.
I know what she wants, what she came to see.
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It uncoils quickly, swollen and pulsing, and I urge it up. The applause that follows is deafening
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through both the hot air and the deafening music. Then as I am abruptly trapped in a spotlight, I grab
my thickness and caress the hard muscle, bringing it close to my face and look for the woman I chose
to dance for.
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Please, she mouths. Do it to me.
I break into a smile and send my tail out toward her, fast as a whip, and encircle her neck. Her
eyes open in anticipated surprise and I feel her gasp for breath. I contract and squeeze until her mouth
falls open and her tongue rolls out. I lift her up, tensing my muscles, hiding the pain of the cutting
rubber bands from my face, and she is choking and everyone is clapping, hooting, wishing it was them
I favored.
I hold her in the air for a few moments, feeling the tremors of her spasms on my tail, before setting
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bring it back to my hand, just in time as the music ends.
In the darkness that follows, I return to the dressing room, making way for the next dancer. I cut
the rubber bands around my tail with a pair of scissors all the guys share and feel immediate relief as
the blood drains away from the hard muscle.
I’m sore, as usual, but it’s a living.
The University Belt

I will never forget how Mr. Rosales, my music teacher in 2nd year, vanished. My parents, convinced
at that time that I had a degree of hidden musical brilliance, engaged him as my tutor every Tuesday
and Thursday night, in addition to my regular class under him on Fridays.
Mr. Rosales came from a small town in Negros, from one of those places whose names the mind
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suicides. He was a peculiar man who talked about his life to anyone who would listen. After private
lessons at my house one evening, he told me how much he loved music but felt that his entire life was a
failure. I remained quiet, out of respect. But it was true.
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leading all who heard it almost but not quite to the precipice of utter joy. But consistently, at the precise
moment when the next note would transport his audience of students to an unearthly paradise, he’d
falter, reversing in mere moments the experience of delight and replacing it with a cacophony that
could only rouse an exasperated sense of regret, enveloping those of us within earshot with the fading
echoes of his desperate longing.
One Friday afternoon in class, right after another truncated recital that ended in the manner all
his performances did, Mr. Rosales walked out of the music room, in tears. My fellow students and I
followed him at a cautious distance down the corridors, past the classrooms where voices expounded
on genes and peas, down the stairs past the glass-enclosed trophies that proudly attested to the school’s
victories in volleyball, origami and spelling, and out into the pristine and uniform-length grass of the
quad. It was there that he turned to us and said, “I’m done with this—and with all of you.”
The whirlwind that engulfed him appeared out of nowhere. It came as an inverted cone, swirling
with the tip on top, ten meters tall, colored mostly green and smelling strongly of crushed leaves. It just
covered him, like a cup in a shell game, and was simply not there the next moment. The fascinating thing
about it, in fact the very last thing that everyone who witnessed Mr. Rosales’ leave-taking remembered,
was that the entire event took place in silence. There was none of the expected sounds associated with a
whirlwind, even a completely unexpected one. It just came, upside down, covered him completely, and
vanished, all in silence.
Mrs. Flores, the teacher who replaced him, was less memorable.
I think she taught piano.
Restaurant Row
Evenings at Shiro Shiro were usually a happy time for most of us. Except for me. Tonight I just sat
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their plans and schedules, I kept silent, knowing I was nowhere approaching my expected output as a
member of our circle of writers and artists.
“I’m thinking of the male nude for my exhibit, but very harshly lit,” Tony said, passing a handful of
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really old guys, grandfathers, you know, people like that. Hairless, wrinkly. I’ll get them drunk or high
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perhaps one or two even astounding in their potential. But they remained pure ideas, unexpressed, as
I permitted myself to be mired down by the mundane circumstances of my life. Normally, even the
humdrum everyday would be a source for me to mine and craft, set down into words, but I’ve been
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actually create. The very thought of writing immediately drained me before I even started.
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myself,” Susan was explaining, a little too loudly as usual. “It’s all about the intertextuality of sexuality.”
She was telling the group about her book deal and the risks she was undertaking, pushing her personal
literary agenda when all that the publisher wanted were short romances in Filipino. “Without risk, we
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themed collection in a school for the blind. The challenge is to articulate what these characters cannot

see—the onrush of heartbreak. Imagine these kids groping each other, fucking around while they make
their stupid paper no one buys.”
Her words reminded me how my own thoughts came in staccato bursts, like pyrotechnics that rose
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poems with no hope of truly creating anything; just wanting to write something, anything, to have
something to show the others, to burn away time.
“You know those old ‘Choose Your Own Adventure’ books,” Andrew asked, gesturing to the group.
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been so cool? Well, I’m writing one on my blog, hyperlinked and all, so there’s an actual experience of
moving away once a choice has been, you know, made. I’m working out linking it to this sad, sad blog
I hacked. There’s this woman who’s been abandoned by her husband, and everything she writes is just
pathetically exquisite. She exposes everything. She thinks he left her because she’s fat and ugly, and
she’s absolutely right. She has a picture and, oh man! One of the links goes directly to her—and she
won’t know.” His idea made most of the group laugh and sit up as they contributed memories of the old
book series.
“She’s her own tragedy,” Marge giggled.
“That sounds great,” DM said, bestowing a dazzling smile of approval upon Andrew. “Finish it and
we’ll think about how to protect it from plagiarists. I like the conceit applied to the web, but I don’t trust
the assholes online.”
When it was my turn to speak, I just coughed twice and proceeded to be studiously engrossed with
my cell phone, letting the painful moment of anticipated response pass by in bullet-time, before Marge,
the purple-haired poet next to me, saved me from further embarrassment.
As I listened to her announce the publication of yet another of her collections of angry-young-
woman-who-makes-the-mistake-of-falling-in-love-with-her-mother poetry, I thought about how my
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of menu items in the Japanese restaurant that DM insisted upon so he could light up and smoke his
noxious clove cigarettes.
Big Idea “So, in the end, my collection says, in a nutshell, ‘I have
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In some ways, writing is
indeed like cooking. You need to down on you.” Marge sat back, exhausted by her own vitriol.
have the right ingredients and “I love it,” Susan said, raising her glass of Strong Ice to Marge
you have to mix them well to have
a lasting effect on the readers’
before turning to look at me. “What about you, Trish? I didn’t
palate. Speculative fictionists cook hear what you’re up to.”
the most exotic cuisines! “This and that,” I muttered. “Nothing much.”
“I’m sure you have something,” DM said with a small frown.
“What happened to the novel you’re writing, the one about Spanish friars in Cebu?”
“I have something cooking,” I replied. “I have the words.”
“You’re just being lazy, Trish,” DM said with an exaggerated frown.
“Whatever,” I said. I composed a text message and sent it to myself.
Get out get out get out
When the message arrived, triggering the beep of my cell phone seconds later, I stood up, excused
myself and drove back to my house.
I headed directly to the fridge. I ignored the giant candy-shaped aluminum foil that contained
the remains of last year’s aborted writing and instead took one of the baby blue tupperwares, peeled
open the cover and looked at all the words I’d been cutting out from various books, newspapers and
magazines for past several months.
In a clean skillet, I tossed the words in, added a little water and soy sauce, twisted the heat to low,
waited for the text to simmer and hoped for the best.
The Housing Projects

I wake up from a troubling dream and realize my wife has left again without telling me. She’s
dealing with the anxiety of our inability to have a child in her own way—there, I’ve said it, it’s out in
the open. Seven years of trying nearly everything wears anyone down. I check near the window and see
she’ll be back before the sun rises. She’s never completely gone.
Unable to return to sleep, I decide to go out for a drink and a massage, leaving at just past midnight.
I lock up, walk a bit in the gentle drizzle, and wait for a cab.
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that I’m alone. I do not want or need conversation and I certainly don’t want to think. On occasion
someone comes over to talk. I don’t respond. I am not in the mood for someone else’s story, whether it
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some guy who thinks I’m cruising the bar for some action. I wear a mask of stupidity, of being unable
to comprehend complicated sentences, and radiate a zone of general antipathy in the blue cloud of my
cigarette smoke.
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and take a bath while sitting on a small wooden stool. Then I immerse myself in the hot waters of the
main pool, oblivious to the amiable argy-bargy of the other men around me, Filipinos and foreigners,
simultaneously exposed and cloaked by steaming water. I soak until I feel the alcohol in my system
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sadness with redemptive pain.
Afterwards, I go up to the bar in my robe and have a glass of Shiraz, mellow and with a hint of
tartness, and look beyond the glass walls and out into the street below. I think of nothing, not work or
children. For a while I pretend to be consumed by nothing, no cares, no worries. Just for a while.
Before 5 ʃʏ, I ride a third cab home to the condo. I check to see if my wife is back but she isn’t.
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skies slowly changing hues.
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I realize that I am desperately hungry, that everything in my system since midnight has been smoke
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a couple of links of sticky longganisa.
My wife arrives in a rustle of wings. I look up from my early breakfast and she is there, framed by
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“You’ve been out,” she says, kicking out the kinks in her legs which had gone asleep while she was
away.

I nod. “A couple of beers and a massage.”
“Good, good,” she says, moving to the kitchen counter for a glass.
“Hungry?” I ask, pointing to my half-eaten meal.
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Later in bed, after she showers, I lean over and kiss her.
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In the light of dawn, she turns away to hide her tears.
For Ian Casocot
Source: http://philippinespeculativefiction.com/alfar.html
What do the short stories of Alfar have in common?
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Conchitina Cruz is a Filipina poet who teaches creative writing and comparative literature at the
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She has published several poetry books such as Dark Hours and Elsewhere Held and Lingered.
Fig. 7.3. Conchitina Cruz

Source: https://curiouscouch.files.wordpress.com/2009/03/1002721_1015151
1429952717_2033367287_n.jpg
Dear City
By Conchitina Cruz
Permit us to refresh your memory: what comes from heaven is always a blessing, the enemy is
not the rain. Rain is the subject of prayer, the kind gesture of saints. Dear City, explain your irreverence:
in you, rain is a visitor with nowhere to go. Where is the ground that knows only the love of water? What
are the passageways to your heart? Pity the water that stays and rises on the streets, pity the water that
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water is to be what you have made it. What have you done to its beauty, its graceful body in pictures of
RFHDQVLWVFOHDUIDFHLQDJODVV":HZDONKRPHDQGFDQQRWVHHRXUIHHWLQWKHÀRRG:HIRUJHWWRWKDQN
the gods for their kindness. We look for someone to blame and turn to you, wretched city, because we
are men and women of honor, we feed our children three meals a day, we never miss an election. The
only explanation is you, dear city. This is the end of our discussion. There is no other culprit.
Source: http://www.highchair.com.ph/permitcruz.html
Reflect Upon
What can you say about the nature of this piece by Cruz? What do you think is its form and
genre?
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Beyond Walls 5.1

7.2 Go Online
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poems in it. Analyze the poems in the link. With your group mates, prepare a report where you will
present the poems, discuss their characteristics in terms of form and content, and identify what
makes them contemporary or avant-garde.

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one’s punctuality, but in the end it is simply a matter of whether one’s tardiness has consequences, or if
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Read “Can We Get Rid of ‘Filipino Time’?” by Shakira Sison in the following link: http://www.
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Fig. 7.4. Shakira Sison

Source : https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-iQd32SK6y70/UbphX9Y0MfI/
AAAAAAAAAGY/vn7G9EhF3ZY/s630-fcrop64=1,00000ef0d37fc29f/pogi-001.JPG
Reflect Upon
Have you ever been late in class? What was the reason? What did you tell others as to why you
were late? Come on; share your experiences!
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Beyond Walls 5.1
7.3 Go
Apply
Online
It in Real Life
As an essayist, you tend to write things that you observe. Write an essay that focuses on an eye-
catching scenario that you witness while probably spending an afternoon with your friends or on
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You can also enjoy more avant-garde poems and other forms of literature in Ateneo de Manila’s
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kritikakultura.ateneo.net/.
Essential Learning
The future of Philippine literature is bright—and it is so because there are several luminaries
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restored and renewed interest in Philippine komiks with his character, Zsazsa Zaturnnah. There is
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essay.
What is the future of Philippine literature for you? What genres do you want to see be
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genres of Philippine literature. It is high time for these to be recognized in the mainstream.

Module
8 Finding the Literary Space within You

1. Identify the geographic, linguistic, and ethnic dimensions of Philippine literary history
from precolonial to the contemporary.
2. Identify representative texts and authors from each region.
3. Apply ICT skills in crafting an adaptation of a literary text.
4. Do self- and/ or peer-assessment of the creative adaptation of a literary text, based on
rationalized criteria, prior to presentation.
As you have previously learned, literature is evolving with the times. One way to embrace these
changes is through multimedia presentations. These presentations are on point when it comes to
allowing you to be more creative and critical of what you have read and what you will read. Gone are the
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either through an AVP or through voicing your own opinion in a critical paper.
Why is multimedia encouraged in literary interpretation? This is because some of you may think
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mathematical intelligence. A multimedia presentation may help you undertake a task in a supportive
social environment, such as your friends and teachers. Multimedia, when done in the appropriate time
and in the appropriate environment, can be a fun and informative way of interpreting literary selections
that you have previously read or researched about.
The main goal of creating a multimedia presentation is to Big Idea
elicit a response from your audience. This is an opportunity for you The use of multimedia
to foster new forms of thinking and learning, much like allowing presentation is a very versatile way
yourself and your audience to understand the literary text using of exhibiting what you learned and
their own life experiences and personal opinions by responding to how you perceived the knowledge
the multimedia they are engaging with. you gained.
Using multimedia in class has been known to help students

demonstrate their limitless creativity and invaluable insights, which is how literary texts must be
interpreted in learning. Because multimedia technology integrates text, graphics, animation, audio,
and video, it stimulates your senses and engages with you more critically. You get to see the literary
selection happening right in front of you, and this may be a more convincing way of eliciting a response.
There are many ways to use multimedia in literature. One way, as was demonstrated in the previous
modules, is to ease the access before reading the literary text. When you were tasked to research on
a literary selection from your area, city, or region, you connect with Philippine literature on a more
personal level. If you also looked for thought-provoking images and key information to help you with
your research, then these may accompany your multimedia presentation at the end of this module.
Beyond Walls 5.1
8.1 Go
Apply
Online
It in Real Life
Your team is in charge of the Philippine literary festival in a school under the initiative of your
local government. Your task is to invite a writer or critic to share his or her expertise to you and to the
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online, while some respond through their social networking accounts if you ask them formally and
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writer or critic to talk about his or her work and genre, and plan a program with an open forum. Get
ready to ask questions to your guest as this is a rare opportunity to interact with him or her.
After the event, the mayor wants you to write a one-page report of what happened during the talk,
including the ideas that you have gathered. Submit this to the mayor as part of your accomplishment
report. Make sure to include insights that can help the readers of your report understand what your
guest shared during his or her talk.
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from the diverse areas in the country. The goals are to encourage building meaningful and in-depth
understanding of the text, to foster creative and critical thinking skills, and to showcase the diversity
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One of your individual tasks in the AVP creation is to design your own AVP that will showcase what
you have researched about your own literature from your region or area. This will be integrated in the
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Your AVP will be shown to your classmates and they will evaluate you using the following rubric:
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Attribute Group Score ,QGLYLGXDO6FRUHV
The AVP showed creativity.
The AVP was organized; all

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presentation.
The AVP showcases the best of

Philippine literature.
The AVP promotes critical

thinking by raising questions
and issues present in literature
and culture today.

Attribute Group Score ,QGLYLGXDO6FRUHV
Every group member

contributed for the success of
their project.
Every group member

cooperated well with one
another.
Every group member showed a

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project.
Comments ______________________________________________________________
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After the presentation, the group may be allowed to answer the questions of their audience through
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Beyond Walls 5.1
8.2 Go
Apply
Online
It in Real Life
You and your group mates are employees of Diwa Learning Systems, Inc., the leading publisher
of textbooks and other supplementary materials for students and teachers in the country. As part
of the annual literary festivities of the company, you have been invited to join the annual Philippine
literature quiz bee. Your task is simple. Review the history of Philippine literature from the
precolonial era to the contemporary age, both in terms of forms of literature, authors, and literary
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will administer. The group with the highest number of points will win the quiz bee. Its members will
get a bonus from the executives of the company.
Beyond Walls 5.1

8.3 Go Online
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To further help you in creating a literary multimedia presentation, visit the following links:
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Essential Learning
One of the ways learning is progressing is through the use of multimedia, may it be in the form
of videos, computers, tablets, Internet, or visual/aural devices. These multimedia tools help foster
creative and critical thinking skills in the student, which in turn helps to understand the literary
text better.
There are other limitless ways to explore literature aside from multimedia. Can you name some
that will guide you and Philippine literature in the future?

Culminating Output
Track: Academic, Arts, and Design

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and critics from the literary scene for its compilation of contemporary Philippine literary works. This
compilation aims to provide an encyclopedic anthology of works, together with illustrations and original
unpublished works. Thus, form a group with three members each and agree as to who will have the
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piece with a similar theme as that of or inspired by the literary piece.
As a team, decide on the literary piece from Filipino authors that you will use. It can be a play, a
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assignments combined into one segment of the anthology. The following criteria can help you in creating
your respective pieces:
I. Critique
Evident grasp of literary work and its theme 15
Application of literary theory 15
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Organization of ideas 5
Creativity in writing 5
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II. Illustration
Style and design 15
Creativity of concept 15
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III. Creative Work

Originality 15
Creativity 15
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Quarter Challenge
I. Bearing in mind the contemporary Philippine literature landscape, compare the following
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Category Form Structure Purpose

Fiction
Poetry
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Play
Literary criticism
Children’s literature
Avant-garde poetry

II. Choose two of the selections that you have learned in this unit, and identify what is asked in the
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1. Title: _______________________________
Author: _____________________________
Summary
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2. Title: _______________________________
Author: _____________________________
Summary
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1. Does literature shape society, or does society shape literature? Defend your answer.
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Unit
II
21st Century Literature from the World
Literature is meant to be universal. It has been proven countless times that literature
has the capacity to reach and touch people from all walks of life. This is even truer now
because literature is easily translated into other languages, some of which you may even
download for free from the internet. This rapid transit and transmission of literary data
have been predicted before in letters that one particular German literary critic has written
to so many of his colleagues. His name was Johann Wolfgang von Goethe who coined the
term weltliteratur, which literally means “world literature.”
In the essay “World Literature and European Literature” by Roberto Dainotto, it
is recounted how Goethe, when he was reading a Chinese novel, had realized that the
Oriental society portrayed in the novel was quite the same as his German one—actually,
the characters “think, feel, and act” the same way that he did, and only found the Chinese
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to be a two-way process: that literature may be shared by one nation to the other so that
it is a give-and-take process. He predicted that world literature will bring about a “rapid
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Goethe’s reaction to the way you use the Internet now!
The idea of a “world literature” is the way this second unit was intended to be written
for you. The modules are arranged such that you are introduced to the literature outside
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reach the other side of the globe. In this way, you are given time to acclimate yourself to
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to explore other parts of the literary world. Furthermore, Unit II is meant to let you realize
your place in the vastness of the world by comprehending and understanding the nature
of other cultures and the way they relate to yours. Most importantly, you may realize how
these cultures may enrich your own Filipino culture and vice versa. The possibilities are
endless in world literature, and this is what you will discover as you go through the exciting
and enriching literary selections in this unit.
Learning Outcomes for the Unit
Understand and appreciate literary texts in various genres across national
literature and cultures.
Demonstrate understanding and appreciation of 21st century literature of the
world through
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form and theme, with a description of its context derived from research
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reader and the writer or a critical paper that interprets literary texts using any
of the critical approaches
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Module
9 A Rediscovery of the Literary World
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 Understand literary meanings in context and the use of critical reading strategies.
Literature of the World

There is a lot to be said about the diversity and universality of world literature. The distinct
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Learning about the literatures
these are Charlson Ong’s epic novel Banyaga, which narrates of other nations allows you to also
the plight of Chinese-Filipino boys and their hardships in the open yourself to other cultures
country; Khaled Hosseini’s A Thousand Splendid Suns is set in that you may not be familiar with.
In doing so, you are also opening
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in a situation that leaves them no choice but to depend on each world outside of your own works.
other; Haruki Murakami’s The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle tells
21st Century Literature from the World 139

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classic Things Fall ApartLVDOODERXWDWULEHLQ$IULFDWKDWFKURQLFOHVLWVVRFLHWDOLVVXHVDQGEDWWOHV
against outside colonizing forces.
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these literary works is through the next activity. Choose your group mates and collaborate on a
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To celebrate world literature, your mayor has tasked you and your team to create a
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can be of any height and weight, and must be visually appealing. It also must clearly show some
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to come up with a sculpture that is creative, original, and relatable to all audience for the world
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in the Philippines.
Reflect Upon
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Philippine literature in some way? How?
________________________________________________________________
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The Filipino-Chinese in World Literature
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in the islands and intermarried with the daughters of prominent tribes. Thus, the history of the
Chinese and Filipinos is very much intertwined not only in local history, but in world history as
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20-30% of our culture has Chinese ancestry.
Filipino-Chinese (or also commonly known as chinoy) literature is an important part of
Philippine literature for it is a melting pot of two cultures and the unique experiences that being
a part of this melting pot brings. It is important to recognize Filipino-Chinese literature in world
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contrasting) cultures, which is a common experience in the global context.
Fig. 9.1. Charlson Ong

Source: http://d.gr-assets.com/authors/1285672155p5/586247.jpg
Here is an award-winning short story about Filipino-Chinese life here in the country.
Charlson Ong is a Filipino-Chinese writer who has penned award-winning works in Philippine
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is best known, however, for his novels Embarrassment of Riches (2002), Banyaga: A Song of
War (2006), and Blue Angel, White Shadow (2010). He currently teaches at the University of the
Philippines–Diliman.

The Trouble in Beijing

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By Charlson Ong
He has packed his Chinese version Lutheran Bible this time. Conversion to Protestantism
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to secure from the Chinese embassy later this afternoon, my Father is again packed and set to
“reconquer the mainland.”
With the rest of the world, Father had watched curiously the growing student-led popular
movement in Beijing which the foreign press had dubbed as being “pro-democracy.” Curiosity
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He was exhilarated, awaiting every bit of satellite-fed news from China. Hope became
trepidation as conservative gained the upper hand in the government power struggle, and
as enthusiasm waned and police crackdowns began there was anger in Father’s eyes before
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certainly deny me should I, his daughter, drop dead here
and now. Big Idea
“He wept mother,” I bleated like a goat, then, quite Trade is one of the main
reasons that there is a strong
unable to hold back my own tears. “He wouldn’t even connection today between the
show up at Roger’s funeral and now he weeps for strangers Chinese and the Filipinos. People
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visit our land to trade goods. This
“White hair cannot bury black hair,” Mother replied continues up to the present in a
larger scale, as some businesses
for the umpteenth time, explaining how Chinese parents
in the country are owned by the
aren’t supposed to send their children to the grave. Chinese.
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and set up a trading post for coconut products from Manila. In fact, he’d begun refurbishing
the ancestral home in preparation for our eventual return when Mao marched his armies
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but Father simply hated the communists more. It was an absurd hatred seemingly beyond
ideology and politics, a personal score that has yet to be settled. I remember Mother relating
to us kids once how Father was arrested by some overzealous communist youth leaguer when
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old woman was too weak to travel and Father was detained by this band of militant youngsters
demanding that he unload his “foreign gold hoard.” Father never talked about the incident,
although years later I’d guessed that the calluses on his back had to do with those times. Even
after travel restrictions to China were lifted back in the ‘70s, Father wouldn’t hear of any of
us visiting the place. He wouldn’t touch any merchandise from the mainland even as our dry
goods competitors were bringing in abalones, mushrooms, preserves and other delicacies in
demand in the local Chinese community.
“There are no communist mushrooms, Father.” I remember my brother Roger raising his
voice once in desperation. We later shifted to textile and garments from Taiwan, although,
Lately, mainland merchandise are again gaining on the market. Father’s semi-retired, though,
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Father frequents Taiwan and Hong Kong which he calls “free Chinese” territories. He
has an uncanny way of timing “business meetings” abroad to coincide with important family
matters at home. Two years ago he missed Roger’s funeral for a property auction in Hong
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denouncing the communist leadership in Beijing and supporting the “patriotic youth.” He
even went around soliciting funds for the movement from kin and associates.
I don’t think Father will make it to China, at least not until the political situation normalizes.
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knows this too. But she chooses to play his game. Mother’s great at playing Father’s games.
It’s not that I don’t care about Chinese students being roughed up by their police. For I too
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life of me I cannot fathom this sudden concern for freedom and “human rights” in someone
who insists that there are “technically” no political killings in the Philippines.
When I was picked up by the military years ago on the campus where I was associate editor
of the school organ, Father did nothing to help me get out of detention although I knew lie had
a couple of generals on his Christmas mailing list. It was Mother who visited me every day and
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some lasting lessons.
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him in exasperation a week after my release just to break that consuming silence that has since
come between us. But he was deaf to my anger and has hardly been a presence in my life ever
since.
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marrying Hilario Brill in less than three weeks and it would be quite convenient for my old
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church.

Father doesn’t seem to like Larry. He doesn’t seem to like anyone since Roger died nearly
two years ago from a malignant brain tumor. Father insists that Roger would still be alive if
Mother had consented to send him to China for acupuncture and Chi kung treatment which is
supposed to work wonders. But Roger had gone into coma two weeks after experiencing those
crippling headaches and the doctors assured us that nothing could be done for him anywhere—
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Roger, four years my junior, was Father’s only son. This preference for male heirs among
WKH&KLQHVHXVHGWR ERWKHUPHWRRDQG,WULHG GHVSHUDWHO\WR¿QGFRPPRQFDXVH ZLWKP\
bereaved parents. But Roger was Father’s progeny and his loss was something I’m not supposed
to comprehend. That, I guess, is what Father has been saying to me all this time through his
silence and evasions.
Larry’s much older than me. But that fact didn’t matter to my parents as much as his
being a pure-bred Pampango. Women in our clan have had to marry grandfathers back on the
PDLQODQGZKHQFLUFXPVWDQFHVZDUUDQWHG%XWWKLVZRXOGEHWKH¿UVWWLPHLQHLJKWKXQGUHG
\HDUVWKDWDGDXJKWHURIWKH/LPVZRXOGEHPDUU\LQJDQRQ&KLQHVHSHUVRQ$huanna.
³,W¶V0RWKHU´,¶GVD\DVLIVXFKGDWHVPDWWHUHGWRSHRSOHIRUZKRPWKHIDWHRIWKH
universe is inexorably tied to family history; people who are wont to recall, for instance, “the
\HDURIWKHJUHDWÀRRGZKHQRXUSDWULDUFK/LP%DREHFDPH0LQLVWHURI5LWHVLQWKH&RXUWRI
Emperor Chiemi Lung...”
I’ve known Larry for over a year since meeting him in an introductory session on
Transcendental Meditation and we’ve been dating for six months. He is the editor of a left-
leaning weekly journal to which I contribute occasionally. Perhaps things would have been
PRUHGLɤFXOWIRUXVLI5RJHUKDGQ¶WGLHG)DWKHUZRXOGVWLOOEHTXLWHYLJLODQWLQSURWHFWLQJWKH
purity and honor of his progeny—on all fronts—and my marrying a non-Chinese person would
KDYHFRQVWLWXWHGDPDMRUWUDJHG\1RZ,JXHVVKHFRXOGQ¶WFDUHOHVVLI,HORSHGZLWKD0DUWLDQ
I think Mother saw this, too, and let go. What really bothers her is the fact that Larry has a
sixteen-year-old son by a former lover. But when Mother realized that I’d been sleeping with
Larry marriage suddenly loomed as the lesser of evils. Mother’s from an age where its virginity
or death for single women no matter if they were raised to be concubines I think she’d have
JRQHERQNHUVLIVKHNQHZWKDW/DUU\ZDVQ¶WP\¿UVW%XWZKDWVKHGRHVQ¶WNQRZZRQ¶WKXUWKHU
Father thinks Larry is some kind of communist. He was among a group of students who
HQWHUHG&KLQDEDFNLQEXWOHIWD\HDU,ZDUQHG/DUU\DJDLQVWWHOOLQJ)DWKHUWKLVDQGKHGLG
avoid discussing the matter when I invited him home for dinner. But Larry kept on about the
Proletarian Cultural Revolution being the “best thing that ever happened to China,” despite my
vain attempts to steer the conversation to safer ground. I could sense Father’s discomfort as
he munched a bit too loudly’ on his roast beef. But Larry was irrepressible. Father’s a largely
self-educated man, spending less than four years of his life in school. The apocalyptic bent of
his newfound faith often cuts me in the wrong places, still, I don’t think he could have risen
from the depths of depression were it not for the Chinatown evangelical group he joined eight
months after Roger’s death. I even think it has vastly improved his English, all that Bible study.
“I have a cousin who used to head the Physics Department in Beijing University,” Father
had said to interrupt Larry’s enumeration of Madame Mao’s theatrical achievements. “Oh?
That’s wonderful,” Larry, dense as always, had replied, stumbling into Father’s snare.
“I can’t see why anyone would want to eat yogurt,” I’d quipped even as Mother excused
KHUVHOIIURPWKHWDEOH³<RXHLWKHUKDYHLFHFUHDPRU\RXGRQ¶W:K\VWXɣ\RXUVHOIZLWKWDVWHOHVV
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Father.
³1RW VLQFH WKH\ PDGH KLP VKRYHO PDQXUH LQ 0RQJROLD WR OHDUQ DERXW UHYROXWLRQ IURP
the people,” Father had declared in his this-is-the-Word-of-the-Lord tone and Larry at once
turned to me, having understood my sudden concern over yogurt.
“Please, this isn’t necessary,” I’d whispered to no one in particular. Then, Larry muttered
KLV¿QDOXQGRLQJEHIRUH)DWKHU
“Well, there were excesses, I must admit.”
³([FHVVHV"´ )DWKHU¶V WUHPROR FRXOG¶YH EHORQJHG WR WKH 6HD 'UDJRQ .LQJ VLOHQFLQJ WKH
waves. The silverware leapt as he pounded the table. Larry couldn’t have been more shocked if
the Dragon King had in fact invaded our home.
“Let’s say grace,” I remember saying as Father looked away and Larry stared at his own
hands.
I went home with Larry that night. I don’t know why, but it had suddenly seemed the only
thing to do. Father had locked himself in his room after the dinner table incident. Mother
strained to keep up conversation with us but the confusion and pain in her eyes was too much
to bear. I heard myself saying in Chinese: “It’s late, Mother, we’ll have to be on our way.”
6KHORRNHGDWPHDQGKHUH\HVVHHPHGWREULJKWHQIRUDPRPHQWEHIRUHVKHTXLSSHGDOPRVW
GLVWUDFWHGO\³<HV«\HV\RXVKRXOGEHLW¶VODWH´
“How could I have done this?” I asked Larry in bed. “How could I do this to them?” I said,
¿JKWLQJEDFNWHDUV:HERWKNQHZRQWKHZD\WRKLVSODFHWKDWZHZRXOGQ¶WEHPDNLQJORYH
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KXJJHGP\VHOIRQWKHFRXFKDQG/DUU\EUHZHGFRɣHH
“I just killed them both, Larry,” I said.
³&RPHRQ6LPRQHWKH\NQRZWKHVLWXDWLRQ:H¶UHJHWWLQJPDUULHGVRRQDQ\ZD\´
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whispered in the dimness.
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to fuss over.”
I looked at him and saw him smile and the space between us suddenly loomed awesome.
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“They lost everything with Roger’s death. Can’t you see? That’s the only reason they’re
letting this happen. They don’t care. They don’t give a shit what I do anymore.”
“I’m sorry,” Larry said to protect us from silence. “I’m sorry about your dad. It was my
fault.”
³1R+HPHDQWIRULWWREHWKDWZD\´
“Those scars on his cheek,” he said. “How did he get them?”

“I don’t know.”
“Looks like someone cut with him a knife a long time ago. Was he ever tortured...back in
China?”
“I don’t know.” I said, my throat parched and my eyes stinging. “He’s never told me much
DERXWKLPVHOI+H¶VQHYHUUHDOO\WDONHGWRPH´,VZDOORZHGKDUGWRIHQGRɣQDXVHD$QGIHOW
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I rested my head on his arm and probed his chest for those familiar calluses around the
QLSSOHV³+RZDERXWWKHVH/DUU\"<RX¶YHQHYHUWROGPHDERXWWKHPHLWKHU´,¶GNQRZQWKDW
Larry was picked up by military agents shortly after he returned from China in ‘71 and spent the
next four years in detention. I’d heard the worst horror stories about detention during my own
brief and relatively uneventful incarceration, and suspected Maoists like Larry were known
to have been tortured during the early years of martial law. But Larry has always avoided the
subject. This is something he has in common with father. This black hole in both their pasts
from which no light escapes and yet sucking in so much of the lives presently about them. I’ve
QHYHUNQRZQ/DUU\DVD0DRLVW7KH70SUDFWLFLQJKHDOWKEXɣ,PHWD\HDUDJRZDVDQ\WKLQJ
but a political radical. He still maintains cordial ties with former colleagues on the Left but
cleaning up the environment and saving forests are his priorities these days. I think all that gab
about the Cultural Revolution was cheap nostalgia or his misguided attempt to impress Father
with his knowledge of contemporary Chinese politics.
“What else could they be?” he said in the dark.
“What?”
“Love bites.”
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at once how little I know of Larry. Only twice have I met his son Frankie - who lives with his
maternal grandmother - and neither occasion took over twenty minutes. I don’t know if Larry
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that he hasn’t had many. There’s this old story that Larry’s good friend Pol likes to tell about
WKHKHLUHVVWRDVL]DEOHIRUWXQHZKRRQFHRɣHUHGWRPDUU\/DUU\RQWKHHYHRIKHUEHWURWKDOWR
one of Manila’s most eligible bachelors. “I’m a communist.” Larry was supposed to have said
³,¶PDPDUNHGPDQLQWKLVFRXQWU\,FDQRɣHU\RXQRIXWXUH³1H[WGD\WKHZRPDQUXQVRɣWR
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the story goes.
I’ve never asked Larry about the heiress just as he has never inquired about my earlier
ORYHV,W¶VQRWLQGLɣHUHQFHWKDWKDVNHSWXVIURPSURELQJLQWRHDFKRWKHU¶VSDVWEXWDVHQVHRI
the fragility of our present relationship that can easily be overwhelmed by a surfeit of history.
“I like your dad,” lie whispered.
³<D"6RGR,´
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him into tiny bits.”
I’d never heard Larry like this and a chill ran down my back.
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this dream, too.” “Maybe you should talk to him again, sometime. Maybe he needs you to talk
to him,” I said, feeling sorry for the man beside me yet angry, inexplicably angry, though my
voice remained calm. “Maybe he’s been waiting for you to talk to him about us.”
:HZHUHERWKVLOHQWIRUDZKLOH/DUU\KDGGR]HGRɣEXWDOODWRQFHLWKDGVHHPHGWRPHWKDW
I’ve said everything I ever wanted to say to him. Then the phone rang. It was Mother making
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time she’d looked for me anywhere in a long time.
Larry went back to sleep. In the dimness, the scars on his back seemed to glow purplish.
)RUDQLQVWDQWWKH\DSSHDUHGWREHH[DFWO\OLNH)DWKHU¶V7KHVDPHSRFNPDUNVGH¿QLQJVLPLODU
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It’s nearly sunset and Father’s still sitting by the phone waiting for the call from the Chinese
Embassy that everyone, including himself, knows will never come. He’s been reading his Bible
for hours.
“Father,” I whisper. “Let’s talk, please,” I say in Chinese.
He peers at me for an instant and goes back to his Bible and I want to grab the book from
him and tear it into shreds. “The Book of Job,” he says to no one in particular. “That’s the only
WKLQJDQ\RQHHYHUKDVWRUHDG<RX¿JXUHLWRXWDQG\RX¶OOKDYHDOOWKHNQRZOHGJH\RXQHHG´
he says in Chinese.
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plead but he’s not there. “For Chrissake,” I blurt out in English.
³'RQ¶WEODVSKHPH´KHVD\VVWDULQJDWPHZLWKWKRVHURFNKDUGH\HV$QG,VHHWKDWKHLV
old, truly and terribly old.
“I’m sorry. But why are you doing this?”
He closes his eyes for a while and thinks of something to say. “My life is over. I must now
live for the Lord.”
³:KDW GR \RX SODQ WR GR" 3UHDFK WKH *RVSHO LQ 7LDQDQPHQ 6TXDUH"´ , KHDU P\ YRLFH
thinning.
“China must convert. China must accept our Lord for the glory of our race,” he says, his
voice trembling.
I might as well be attending one of those Bible powwows the way Father’s been carrying on
but the anger is gone from me. “Father please...”
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girlhood name. I don’t recall the last time he called me by that name. I don’t recall the last time
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“What for?” he says with a blankness in his eyes that cuts me in so many places.
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children—she didn’t have the lines on her palm.
“But I’m here,” I protested. “I was born.”
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I don’t think I ever forgave Mother that moment. I doubt she ever told Father the story.
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me away as an infant or drowned me in the river. It might have prevented Roger’s early death.
Father hears me at last and he turns to me with a frightened, haunted look that I’ve never
seen before. “I know what they say,” I go on, “My karma’s too strong. I can never have a brother.
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of the Devil’s talk inside my house. The Lord has revealed to me his heart and I abide in him.”
“I’m sorry,” I say just to hear myself. “The Huanna is a good man,” he says. “Older men
make better spouses. They are responsible, and caring.”
I’m tempted to let the conversation end there but I know we’ve gone far enough this time.
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“What?”
“I’m not marrying him, Father. There’s really nothing between us.”
He is confused and truly haunted now. “What are you saying?”
Reflect Upon
+DYH\RXHYHUEHHQLQD¿JKWZLWK\RXUSDUHQWV":KDWZDVWKH¿JKWDERXW":KDW
did you do to make it right with them?
___________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________
“There just isn’t enough between us,” I mutter, swallowing hard. Despite the years of
VLOHQFHEHWZHHQXVDQGWKHIDFWWKDWKHKDVQHYHUUDLVHGD¿QJHUDJDLQVWPHRU5RJHU,PXVW
muster courage to confront him like this.
³1RWHQRXJK"´KHDVNV³<RXVOHHSZLWKKLP´KHVD\VDVLIXWWHULQJDFXUVH
“It’s not what I mean,” I try to make sense knowing my words are stale and he no longer
hears me.
“Why do you young people do this to yourselves? Why do you behave like animals? Why
do you treat yourselves like dirt?”
³7KDW¶VQRWKRZLWLV´,VFUHDPEXWWKHVSLULWKDVÀRZQIURPPHDQGP\ERQHVDUFZHDU\
“That’s not how it is,” I mutter.
)DWKHUWXUQVDZD\DQGZDYHVPHRɣ³*R´KHVD\V³-XVWJRDQGOLYH\RXURZQOLIH´
,WKLQNRIGRLQJMXVWWKDWEXWUHPHPEHUDWRQFHZKDW,UHDOO\FDPHWRVD\³,ORYHG$K'L´
,VD\FDOOLQJRXW5RJHU¶V&KLQHVHSHWQDPHKLVER\KRRGQDPH²3LJJ\²IRUWKH¿UVWWLPHLQ
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letter. He was my baby brother, Father. I would have died in his place if I could, damn it.”
7KHEDFNRIKLVKDQGIHHOVOLNHOHDG,WLVWKH¿UVWWLPHKHKDVKLWPH,NQRZLWZRXOGEH
the last.
:HSDUW RYHUZKLWH ZLQHDQG -DSDQHVHIRRG /DUU\DJUHHV WKDWZH VKRXOG WDNHWLPH Rɣ
from seeing each other, and his six-month lecture tour at Tokyo University is quite timely. “I
feel guilty pigging out while my mainland compatriots are risking their lives for the future of
the race,” I sigh over sushi. “It’s enough you’re with them in spirit,” Larry quips and unloads a
couple of jokes about Deng Xiao-ping.
It’s easy to make light of events so far removed yet I’m really edgy about the latest
GHYHORSPHQWV &KLQHVH DXWKRULWLHV KDYH FXW Rɣ VDWHOOLWH WUDQVPLVVLRQ IURP %HLMLQJ DQG WKH
news black out could be a prelude to violence. Larry thinks violence is inevitable. “There’s no
tradition of political restraint in the culture,” he says. “It’s always been winners take all. If push
comes to shove, it could be bloody.”
I shiver at the thought. I fear for the people in Beijing but I fear more for Father. I don’t dare
to imagine how he’d react if they started bashing heads in Tiananmen. He’s quite convinced
that the “crucial moment” for China has come. That the conversion of the Chinese people to
Christianity is at hand—despite the absence of any sign of Christian persuasion among the
demonstrators.
It’s almost midnight, and this guy having dinner with the German woman at the table
beside ours is startled as voices emanate from his two-way radio. He’s an old friend of Larry
now editing a major daily. The guy says something over his radio and scrambles to his feet.
³6RUU\´KHWHOOVWKHZRPHQ³,¶YHWRJREDFNWRWKHRɤFH:HKDYHWRUHPDW7KH\¶UHNLFNLQJ
ass in Beijing.” The woman doesn’t quite catch his drift and I hear Larry asking: “What’s up,
Mark?”
“The army has moved in. They’ve begun shooting,” Mark says.
“Oh no,” Larry says and I see his face folding in. Perhaps he wants to cry and I’m thinking
maybe I can love this man, after all. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry,” and he lays his hand
over mine.
“I’ve got to go, Larry,” I manage to say. “It’s late.”
³<HVLWLV´KHVD\V³,UHDOO\KRSH\RXU)DWKHUZLOOEHDOOULJKW´
I don’t really know where I’m going. I wouldn’t want to be the one to break the news to
)DWKHUDQGLQFDVHKHNQRZVZKLFKLVOLNHOLHU,¶GKDWHWREHDWWKH¿ULQJHQGRIKLVGLVSODFHG
anger. I cruise down the highway and suddenly feel that there are far too many cars on the

road for the hour. I wonder whether it’s the eve of some festival and am suddenly reminded
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facing down tanks, awaiting the downfall of a regime. I’d never seen Roger so animated. He’d
always been this apolitical whiz kid who was convinced that somewhere in all this mess would
be found that unformulated mathematical paradigm that would solve every human concern.
<HWKHZDVWKHPRVWUHFNOHVVDPRQJXV5XQQLQJIURPRQHEDUULFDGHWRDQRWKHU+DUDQJXLQJ
WKHFURZGWHDFKLQJDQ\RQHZKRZRXOGOLVWHQKRZWRSUHSDUH0RORWRYFRFNWDLOV$QGZKHQLW
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But that was over three years ago. Three long and unforgiving years. The advent of a new
political dispensation has not brought forth peace and prosperity to our home, but death and
silence. I couldn’t weep for Roger back then. The short season of his sickness and death left me
groping for meanings and scapegoats but now I can sense the tears welling inside me. There is
a sourness on my tongue and my lips are dry. I step on the gas and run a red light Perhaps I’ll
drive all the way to Beijing. But before long I realize where I’m headed.
,W¶VWZRLQWKHPRUQLQJDQGWKHJXDUGVDUHTXLWH¿GJHW\DV,DOLJKWDWWKHFHPHWHU\JDWH
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“What’s going on?”
“Good morning, ma’am,” the other one says. “What are you doing here at this hour?”
³,¶PYLVLWLQJP\EURWKHU¶VJUDYH+H¶VRQ0DWDKLPLN6WUHHW´
“The cemetery’s open only from eight in the morning till six in the evening, ma’am. I’m
sorry, but we can’t let you in.”
“Please,” I say. “Just this once, please. It’s very important. It’s a family matter.”
7KHVKRUWHUJXDUGVFUDWFKHVKLVKHDG³$UH\RX&KLQHVHPD¶DP"´KHDVNV
³<HV´
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“Is the old man a relative?”
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“He’s been inside almost an hour,” the taller guard says, looking quite weary.
“It’s okay,” I assure them. “This won’t take too long. We have to do this tonight or else his
VRXOZRQ¶WHYHU¿QGSHDFH´
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shorter one says. “But don’t do anything crazy. Our jobs are at stake.”
³'RQ¶WZRUU\´,VD\³7KDQNVDORW<RX¶UHGRLQJWKHGHDGDJUHDWIDYRU<RX¶OOEHEOHVVHG
for life.”
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brother’s tombstones, Father’s never been here before, as far as I know. Chinese parents aren’t
VXSSRVHGWROLJKWMRVVVWLFNVRUNQHHOEHIRUHWKHLUFKLOGUHQ¶VWRPEVWRQHV$QG)DWKHU¶VFKRVHQ
to stay away altogether, although both his and Mother’s tombs have already been built beside
Roger’s.
I see smoke rising from the urn as I walk towards the tomb. The smell of incense arrests
the thin air. I think I see Father looking over his shoulder as I approach. I’ve left the headlights
on and I’m sure he sees me. I squat beside him and listen to him mumbling some ancient
ZDUULRU¶VGLUJH:H¶UHOLNHWKDWIRUDORQJZKLOHXQWLO,VD\³<RX¶UHQRWVXSSRVHGWROLJKWMRVV
sticks before sunup.” But Father’s deaf to me again.
Finally, I lean over and kiss him on the temple. “We can all go visit China, once all of this
WURXEOHLVRYHU´,VD\³<RX0RWKHUDQG,´+LVVLQJLQJVWRSVDQG,KHDUFULFNHWVWDNLQJXSWKH
slack. He is silent for a while and his head drops to his chest. The cold air nips me and I have
to get up. I rest my hands on his shoulders. “I’m going ahead, Father,” I whisper. “Don’t take
too long. It’s cold.”
$V,DSSURDFKWKHFDUKLVYRLFHUHQGVWKHVLOHQFH³,¶PVRUU\6LDR0HL)RUJLYHPH3OHDVH
forgive me,” he says, not looking at me. I drive away in the dark and turn on the radio and
listen to what an excitable Britisher on the short-wave band says, that scores have been killed
as tanks crashed human barricades and all hell’s broken loose at Tiananmen, the Gate of
+HDYHQO\3HDFH,WXUQWKHGLDOWRFDWFK1DW.LQJ&ROHFURRQLQJ³6PLOHWKRXJK\RXUKHDUWLV
DFKLQJ´,SDUNMXVWRXWVLGHWKHFHPHWHU\JDWHVDQGWXUQRɣWKHKHDGOLJKWV,VKXWP\PLQG
and listen to Cole and forget for a brief moment the trouble in Beijing.
Source: https://iwp.uiowa.edu/sites/iwp/files/IWP2002_Ong_charleson.pdf.
Activity:
Draw a concept map showing the characters of the story and their respective goals as
characters. Present your concept map to the class.

Looking beyond the Text or at the Text
A. Further Discussion of New Historicism and “Death of the Author”

Have you ever read a literary piece, and afterward, you were more interested in the author’s
history than the story itself? Or maybe you believed that for you to understand the text, you needed
to know the author’s history?
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it in a text? The idea of historical criticism is a reiteration that for you to understand any given
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concepts that were established during his or her time, and the milieu he or she lived in back then.
The idea is that before or after you appreciate a literary text, you need to be familiar with who the
author is and the world he or she lives in back when the text was written.
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WU\ WR UHYHDO WKH KLVWRULFDO WUXWK DQG DXWKRULW\ LQ D WH[W VR DV WR ¿QG WKH SUHYDLOLQJ LGHDV DQG
assumptions of its historical time. Hence, history moves beyond just being mere data or chronicles
of time, facts, and events; history becomes a complicated catalog of the human being’s reality and
ideas. Literature written in a particular time may reveal its social organization, taboos, prejudices,
problems, practices, and so much more. It also seeks to discover how these ideas have evolved as
the literary text itself changes.
If you were to apply this theory to the selection that you have just read (The Trouble in Beijing),
ZKDWGRHVLWUHYHDODERXWWKHSOLJKWRIWKH)LOLSLQR&KLQHVHEDFNEHIRUHWKH$PHULFDQVFDPHWRWKH
Philippines?
$QRWKHU WKHRU\ WKDW FRXQWHUDFWV QHZ KLVWRULFLVP LV IURP DQ HVVD\ E\ )UHQFK SKLORVRSKHU
5RODQG%DUWKHVHQWLWOHG³7KH'HDWKRIWKH$XWKRU´+HUH%DUWKHVDUJXHVDJDLQVWORRNLQJDWWKH
author’s identity and the context in which the author lived in to understand the author’s literary
text. He says that if you allow the author to intervene in the text or if you give the text an author,
the view and interpretation may be limited.
Reflect Upon
Can you also apply the concept of historical criticism to the excerpt of The Trouble of
Beijing? Which of the two theories—new historicism or “death of the author”—do you prefer
and why?
_______________________________________________________________
_______________________________________________________________
_______________________________________________________________
_______________________________________________________________
_______________________________________________________________
He further states that the readers must separate the literary text from its writer so that the text
itself may be liberated from the tyranny that the author’s context may impose on the selection.
Every literary selection has multiple layers of meaning; thus, these meanings must be allowed to
ÀRZDQGEHLQWHUSUHWHGRQWKHLURZQZLWKRXWWKHDXWKRU¶VEDFNJURXQGRUKLVWRU\
Read the next excerpt from a contemporary novel by Basque writer Kirmen Uribe.
Fig. 9.2. Kirmen Uribe

Source: http://kirmenuribe.eus/en/biografia/
.LUPHQ8ULEHLVD%DVTXHZULWHUERUQIURPD¿VKLQJIDPLO\LQ2QGDUURD%LVFD\+HVWXGLHG
Basque Philology at the University of the Basque Country-Gasteiz and also has a graduate degree
in Comparative Literature in Trento, Italy. He won the Becerro de Bengoa Prize for his book-length
essay in collaboration with Jon Elordi entitled Lizardi and Eroticism while he was in prison for
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WKH6SDQLVK/LWHUDWXUH3UL]HIRUKLVQRYHOBilbao–New York–Bilbao. Uribe has since engaged in
various forms, such as poetry, multimedia, and children’s and young adult literature, and has won
many awards and participated in international festivals for writers.
An Excerpt from Bilbao–New York–Bilbao

By Kirmen Uribe
Translated from the Basque by Elizabeth Macklin
1
%,/%$2
Fish and trees are alike.

They’re alike because of the growth rings. Trees have these in their trunks. Cut through a
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those growth rings what the animal’s age is.
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go on growing.

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our life, until they become a measure of time. Happy days go fast, on the other hand—too fast—
and we forget them quickly.
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a relationship, the death of a person we love.
Each loss a dark growth ring deep down.
The day they told him he had a scant few months left to live, our grandfather didn’t want to
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morning. Granddad listened calmly to what the doctor said. He heard him out without a peep
and, afterward, shook his hand and courteously bade him goodbye.
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asked him if they’d be heading along to the bus to Ondarroa now. He said no.
“We’re not going back yet. We’ll spend the day in Bilbao. I want to show you something,”
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how on the very day they told him he was going to die Granddad took her to a museum. How
he attempted to place beauty above death, without success. How he attempted to make that
terrible day have another kind of memory for her. Our mother would always remember that
gesture of his.
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picture was important, that it would turn out to be an essential piece in the novel I was writing.
The picture is a mural, painted, as it happens, in the Ondarroa country house the architect
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painted the mural, in the living room there. In the nineteen-sixties, though, a few years after
Bastida died, his family sold the house. The buyers razed it to build apartments. But the mural
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been on exhibit ever since, in one of the upstairs galleries.
Jose Julian Bakedano, one of the museum’s curators, showed it to me. In its day the mural
took up three walls of the Bastidas’ living room. In the museum, though, it’s hung as a triptych.
In the very center is the representation of an outing to a country fair, that’s the largest of the
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the shade of a tree.
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are indeed described in the story. Then share your insights about the style of the painter
and the kind of place conveyed in the paintings.
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that had never been done before.
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told me. “Mocking him, they said he wore colored spectacles to paint in. The years he spent
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to make a complete break with tradition. It’s precisely because of this, I think, that his pictures
put me in mind of an old tavern that’s been painted in bright colors—they’re modern but
without losing their charm.”
In the mural two worlds appear, together at one and the same time. On one side are the
baserritarrak, the people of the farmsteads, and on the other the townspeople. The farm
girls are in traditional dress. Their skirts come down to their ankles, scarves on heads and
their necklines modest. The city girls, though, don’t look like that at all. Their dresses are
lightweight, the wind moves them. Their hemlines are shorter, their knees allowed to show,
and their necklines are wide open. What’s more, they sport jewelry on their breasts. Compared
with the baserritarrak, the city girls seem to beckon, as if they were courting the onlooker. The
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paintings.
“This picture represents the leap from old world to new,” Bakedano explained now, “and
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mural technique and the architect let him use his living room to test things out. The real work
would come a bit later. It was Ricardo Bastida himself who designed the headquarters the
Bank of Bilbao was to have in Madrid. In its day, that building, to be erected right on the Calle
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known one another ever since they were children, and their lives were strikingly alike, one in
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paint an allegory of Bilbao. The stevedores, the workers from the steel mills of the era, the
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an irregular surface to boot.

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and slashed the man’s face. It was the one thing said to drive him wild.
Big Idea
It is not uncommon for various art forms to mix and create new interactions. The results
of these interactions are fascinating—a stage play with dance performances, a dance where
performers also sing like the cultural dance Putungan from Mindoro, a film where poetic pieces
are also read like Ang Sayaw ng Dalawang Kaliwang Paa directed by Alvin Yapan, and many more.
Another example is A Portrait of the Artist as Filipino, which is a play written by Nick Joaquin. In the
play, a painting is central to the story.
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Madrid, so that when it came time to start work in Madrid the water would be sure to have the
same density. He chose the best materials. The sand would be ground from genuine Markina
marble.
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a beloved painter. He was well regarded by conservatives, nationalists, and socialists alike, “his
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for the Paris Exposition. The whole world would know then what had happened in Guernica,
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all know what comes after that. Doing the Guernica picture would have been a huge advance
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family to being remembered in the future.
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above his art. There will be those, too, who will never forgive him for it, in the belief that a
creator’s obligation is to their creative gift above all else.
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I’d choose.
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removal from Bastida’s house.
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Carmen Bastida, the architect’s daughter, it’d be best to call her,” and he handed me her phone
number on a Post-it, saying, “Tell her you’re calling her because I said to,” and went back to
his work.
I stayed behind on my own, staring at the mural, thinking. The optimism that emanated
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years’ time.
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on the contrary, yes: we know a thousand tales from Mom’s side, stories about one relation
and another. But on our dad’s side very few. Maybe because of this, that grandfather made me
curious.
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of life in the summertimes. I’d heard him say how when he was little he’d be on the beach the
whole day, at the wooden changing rooms Granddad kept for the summer people. He’d help
his parents with any number of chores; taking basins of water to the summer people, helping
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poles. I imagine him entirely silent at this work, carrying water and picking up clothing and,
between times, paying attention to the things the summer people said to each other.
“I remember your father very well, he was a graceful boy and a worker,” Carmen Bastida
said to me when I paid her a visit at her house in Bilbao. “Those were the best years of my life.
Life held no worries for me then, no adversity.”
The Bastida family had three bathing cabanas on the beach. They used to set them up high
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in therapeutic nudism, shielded by a tall length of dark cloth. The beach days come gathered
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explain who each person was. To go by what Bastida’s daughter said, painters, musicians,

architects, astronomers met up on the beach at the Bastidas’ cabanas. Most of them coming
from Bilbao and Madrid. “But what I loved best was a man from the town, Liborio, the stories
he used to tell us.”
Keeping the cabanas was not Granddad’s only way of making a living. He had a small boat,
WRRWRJRRXW¿VKLQJLQE\WKHQDPHRIDos Amigos. The name of the boat always made me
wonder: Dos Amigos—Two Friends. Why ever had he named his boat that, how had he come
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the other one been.
I wanted to unearth that other one, discover why all trace of him had been wiped out.
Whether Granddad had gotten angry at his friend. Wanting to answer those questions, several
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I hadn’t expected, I’ve met up with many surprises.
****
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6LQFHHHOVVSHQGIRXUV\HDUVDVODUYDH
7KH\OLNHZLVHQHHGIRXU\HDUVWRFURVVWKH$WODQWLF7KHWLQ\HOYHUVPDNHWKHWULSIURPWKH
6DUJDVVR6HDWRWKH%D\RI%LVFD\LQWKDWPXFKWLPH
0\SODQHZLOOFRYHUWKHVDPHGLVWDQFHLQVHYHQKRXUV,¶OOEHWDNLQJDÀLJKWWR1HZ<RUNRQ
this very day, from the Bilbao airport.
Activity:
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(choose one) can be applied to Bilbao–New York–Bilbao.
2. Try to think of a memorable trip that you had. Write a short travelogue about your journey
to your destination similar to the way the author did. What were your thoughts at that
time? What were you feeling? What events occurred during the trip?
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
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_____________________________________________________________
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bones of hominids (or the ancestors of modern humans today) were
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were found in Ethiopia. This place was where they found Lucy the
Australopithecus, a skeleton of a hominid that lived in Ethiopia 3.2
millions of years ago.
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The countries in this continent have been gripped again and again
by colonial invasions, civil wars, diseases, famine, and so much
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and thrive. Their literature is a testament to their infallible spirit.
&KLQXD$FKHEHLVD1LJHULDQQRYHOLVWSURIHVVRUDQGFULWLFZKR Fig. 9.3. Chinua Achebe
rose to critical acclaim when he published his magnum opus, Things Source: http://www.swisseduc.
ch/english/readinglist/
Fall Apart,WLVWKHPRVWZLGHO\UHDGERRNLQ$IULFDQOLWHUDWXUH+HLV
achebe_chinua/icons/
a titled Igbo chief who was given scholarships to attend universities, achebe.jpg
until he invested in his writing. He has taught in Western universities
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for his contributions to world literature.
An Excerpt from Things Fall Apart

By Chinua Achebe
Okonkwo was well known throughout the nine villages and even beyond. His fame rested on
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since the founder of their town engaged a spirit of the wild for seven days and seven nights. The
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Every nerve and every muscle stood out on their arms, on their backs and their thighs, and
one almost heard them stretching to breaking point. In the end, Okonkwo threw the Cat. That was
many years ago, twenty years or more, and during this time Okonkwo’s fame had grown like a
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a very severe look.
He breathed heavily, and it was said that, when he slept, his wives and children in their houses
could hear him breathe. When he walked, his heels hardly touched the ground and he seemed to
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often. He had a slight stammer and whenever he was angry and could not get his words out quickly
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with his father.
Unoka, for that was his father’s name, had died ten years ago. In his day, he was lazy and
improvident and was quite incapable of thinking about tomorrow. If any money came his way, and

it seldom did, he immediately bought gourds of palm-wine, called round his neighbors and made
merry. He always said that whenever he saw a dead man’s mouth he saw the folly of not eating
what one had in one’s lifetime. Unoka was, of course, a debtor, and he owed every neighbor some
money, from a few cowries to quite substantial amounts.
Reflect Upon
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or not? Do you have certain characteristics that are similar to your parents, or do you feel
FRPSOHWHO\GLɣHUHQWIURPWKHP"
_______________________________________________________________
_______________________________________________________________
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He was tall but very thin and had a slight stoop. He wore a haggard and mournful look except
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moments were the two or three moons after the harvest when the village musicians brought down
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egwugwu to come and stay with them and teach them their tunes. They would go to such hosts for
as long as three or four markets, making music and feasting.
Unoka loved the good fare and the good fellowship, and he Big Idea
loved this season of the year, when the rains had stopped and Your family is a vital part of
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not too hot either, because the cold and dry harmattan wind what your family is or who your
family members are, they have
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was very severe and a dense haze hung on the atmosphere. personhood in some way. So try
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don’t turn your back on where you
returned with the dry season, and the children who sang songs come from.
of welcome to them. He would remember his own childhood,
how he had often wandered around looking for a kite sailing
leisurely against the blue sky.
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long journey, and asking it if it had brought home any lengths of cloth. That was years ago, when he
was young. Unoka, the grown-up, was a failure. He was poor and his wife and children had barely
enough to eat. People laughed at him because he was a loafer, and they swore never to lend him
any more money because he never paid back.
But Unoka was such a man that he always succeeded in borrowing more, and piling up his
debts. One day a neighbor called Okoye came in to see him. He was reclining on a mud bed in his
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the goatskin which he carried under his arm, and sat down. Unoka went into an inner room and
soon returned with a small wooden disc containing a kola nut, some alligator pepper and a lump
of white chalk.
“I have kola,” he announced when he sat down, and passed the disc over to his guest.
“Thank you. He who brings kola brings life. But I think you ought to break it,” replied Okoye,
passing back the disc.
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the honor of breaking the kola. Okoye, meanwhile, took the lump of chalk, drew some lines on the
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against their enemies. When they had eaten they talked about many things: about the heavy rains
which were drowning the yams, about the next ancestral feast and about the impending war with
the village of Mbaino. Unoka was never happy when it came to wars. He was in fact a coward and
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face beamed.
He could hear in his mind’s ear the blood-stirring and intricate rhythms of the ekwe and the
udu and the ogeneDQGKHFRXOGKHDUKLVRZQÀXWHZHDYLQJLQDQGRXWRIWKHPGHFRUDWLQJWKHP
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as it went up and down and then broke up into short snatches, one saw that there was sorrow and
grief there.
Okoye was also a musician. He played on the ogene. But he was not a failure like Unoka. He
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title, the third highest in the land. It was a very expensive ceremony and he was gathering all his
resources together. That was in fact the reason why he had come to see Unoka. He cleared his
throat and began:
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the Ibo the art of conversation is regarded very highly, and proverbs are the palm-oil with which
words are eaten. Okoye was a great talker and he spoke for a long time, skirting round the subject
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was driving at, he burst out laughing. He laughed loud and long and his voice rang out clear as the
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was able to give an answer between fresh outbursts of mirth.
“Look at that wall,” he said, pointing at the far wall of his hut, which was rubbed with red earth
so that it shone.
“Look at those lines of chalk;” and Okoye saw groups of short perpendicular lines drawn in
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then he continued:
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see, I owe that man a thousand cowries. But he has not come to wake me up in the morning for it.
I shall pay you, but not today. Our elders say that the sun will shine on those who stand before it
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goatskin and departed. When Unoka died he had taken no title at all and he was heavily in debt.
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man was judged according to his worth and not according to the worth of his father. Okonkwo was
clearly cut out for great things. He was still young but he had won fame as the greatest wrestler in
the nine villages. He was a wealthy farmer and had two barns full of yams, and had just married
his third wife.
To crown it all he had taken two titles and had shown incredible prowess in two inter-tribal
ZDUV$QGVRDOWKRXJK2NRQNZRZDVVWLOO\RXQJKHZDVDOUHDG\RQHRIWKHJUHDWHVWPHQRIKLV
WLPH$JHZDVUHVSHFWHGDPRQJKLVSHRSOHEXWDFKLHYHPHQWZDVUHYHUHG$VWKHHOGHUVVDLGLID
child washed his hands he could eat with kings. Okonkwo had clearly washed his hands, and so
KHDWHZLWKNLQJVDQGHOGHUV$QGWKDWZDVKRZKHFDPHWRORRNDIWHUWKHGRRPHGODGZKRZDV
VDFUL¿FHGWRWKHYLOODJHRI8PXR¿DE\WKHLUQHLJKERUVWRDYRLGZDUDQGEORRGVKHG7KHLOOIDWHG
lad was called Ikemefuna.
Source: http://www.castlemaineindependent.org/excerpt-fall/
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think Okonkwo is a good exemplar of the Ibo culture?
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
Track: Technical-Vocational
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start-up involves making a sample of a useful household product that showcases a particular
province’s local folklore and proverbs. It can be a bag, kitchen utensil, or even a piece of
furniture! This sample will be used to show the members of the adopted below-minimum-wage
community how they can supplement their household income by producing these items, which
will be sold in department stores all over the country.
1. It may be easy to look for novels to read, but how good are the novels you are reading?
:RUOG OLWHUDWXUH KDV PDQ\ LQWHUHVWLQJ WLWOHV WR RɣHU /RRN DW Things Fall Apart. Most
people assume that it is boring because it is a novel that has been published several years
DJREXWZKHQ\RXUHDGLW\RXPD\DFWXDOO\¿QGWKDWLWLVODUJHO\H[FLWLQJDQGLQWHUHVWLQJ
 7R KHOS \RX FKRRVH WKH QRYHOV \RX PD\ ZDQW WR UHDG DV \RX GHOYH LQWR WKH GLɣHUHQW
literatures of the world, you may visit the following websites:
 SURPLQHQWDXWKRUVIURPPRUHWKDQGLɣHUHQWQDWLRQVKDYHHOHFWHG7KH/LEUDU\
of World Literature: “The 100 Best Books in the History of Literature” (http://www.
ERNNOXEEHQQR6DPER:HEVLGHGR"GRN,G 
• “Top 100 World Lit Titles” (http://www.perfectionlearning.com/top%20100-world-
lit-titles)
• Editor Eric’s Greatest Literature of All Time (http://editoreric.com/greatlit/index.
html)
3. For more contemporary reads, visit this website for suggestions: https://www.realsimple.
com/work-life/entertainment/what-to-read-right-now.
Essential Learning
Goethe’s concept of world literature transcends what world literature means to society
today—it is a fast-paced, multilevel, and dynamic means of sharing information with one
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7KHLQÀX[RIOLWHUDWXUHIURPDURXQGWKHZRUOGPDNHVUHDGLQJPRUHH[FLWLQJDQGFKDOOHQJLQJ
How do you understand the situational contexts of these works, and which ones are the best to
read? Two theories are presented in this module to further help the reader in understanding
the given literary selections: new historicism and “the death of the author.” Both of these
FRQFHSWVKHOSWRIXUWKHULOOXVWUDWHWKHGLɣHUHQWVKDGHVRIPHDQLQJLQDJLYHQOLWHUDU\VHOHFWLRQ
$QRWKHULVWKHLGHDRIWKHUDSLGWUDɤFRIOLWHUDWXUHWKDW\RXDUHDOOH[SRVHGWRDVRIWKH
moment. It is up to you, the reader, to discern which ones are worth reading or not, which ones
may contribute to world literature or not, and which ones may contribute to your totality as a
human being.

Module
10 Charting Our Own Paths in Southeast Asia
1. Explain the texts in terms of literary elements, genres, and traditions.
2. Compare and contrast the various 21st century literary genres and their elements,
structures, and traditions from across the globe.
3. Examine the relationship between text and context.
 8QGHUVWDQGOLWHUDU\PHDQLQJVLQFRQWH[WDQGWKHXVHRIFULWLFDOUHDGLQJVWUDWHJLHV
Southeast Asian Countries

7KH DUHD ZKHUH WKH 3KLOLSSLQHV EHORQJV WR 6RXWKHDVW Big Idea
$VLD6($LVULFKZLWKLWVRZQXQLTXHFXOWXUHDQGKLVWRU\,W ASEAN promotes unity among
consists of 11 countries, and because of its expansive geography, the Southeast Asian countries
in terms of economics, politics,
WKHFRXQWULHVZLWKLQ6($PD\EHDUFKLSHODJRVLVODQGVRUODQG
cultures, and other aspects. It is
masses. easy to go to a Southeast Asian
country and find many similarities
7KH FRXQWULHV WKDW PDNH XS 6($ DUH %XUPD 7KDLODQG with the Philippines. However,
/DRV &DPERGLD 9LHWQDP 0DOD\VLD 6LQJDSRUH ,QGRQHVLD you must also acknowledge the
the Philippines, Brunei, and the new nation of East Timor diversity of each country, and
(which was recently separated from Indonesia). The religions respect its culture and traditions.
LQ6($YDU\WRR,VODPPD\EHWKHPDMRULW\LQFRXQWULHVVXFK
DV0DOD\VLD%UXQHLDQG,QGRQHVLDKRZHYHUWKH3KLOLSSLQHVDQG9LHWQDPKDYHDSUHGRPLQDQWO\
Catholic population. Other countries such as Thailand have Buddhism as well. This interesting
PL[RIJHRJUDSK\DQGEHOLHIVPDNH6($DYHU\LQWHUHVWLQJDUHDWREHORQJLQ
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similar in terms of their climate and ecosystem. In the lower areas, the temperatures may be
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many unique species in the sea and jungle, which has caught the attention of colonizers in the past.
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changing climate and have adapted well to the conditions of the land they live in.
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OHDVWDWKRXVDQGVSRNHQODQJXDJHVLQ6($DORQH0RUHWKDQWKDWLWLVDPHOWLQJSRWRIFXOWXUHV
&KLQDKDVORQJPLJUDWHGWRSDUWVRI6($DVZLWKRWKHU(XURSHDQFRORQL]HUVODWHURQ$QGDVXVXDO
6RXWKHDVW$VLDQVKDYHDGDSWHGZHOOZLWKZKDWHYHUFKDQJHVWKDWKDYHFRPHXSRQWKHP²ZKHWKHU
WKH\EHJHRJUDSKLFFOLPDWHRUFXOWXUHZLVH:KHQWKH FRORQL]HUVFDPH6RXWKHDVW$VLDQVZHUH
RSHQWRWKHQHZSUDFWLFHVWKDWWKH\RɣHUHG7KHVHZHUHRIWHQWLPHVLQWHJUDWHGLQWKHLURZQORFDO
cultures.
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A Brief Introduction to Formalism Big Idea
One way to look at a literary selection is through the lenses Formalism seeks to champion
of formalism, or Russian formalism, as it was also called back the form and technique of the
literary work, rather than its
in the early 20th century. What is formalism? It is partly based content. By focusing on form and
RQ )HUGLQDQG GH 6DXVVXUH¶V LGHD RI semiotics and how signs technique, literature can stand
and symbols may bring about a new meaning in a literary text. on its own with or without the
discourse about its content or
Formalism aims to look at the medium in which literature is theme.
written. More than that, it aims to look at how literature, most
especially poetry, artistically alter or “renew” the everyday
common language in which everyone speaks so that they come up with a “defamiliarized” work
of art that is new to the senses. The idea is to focus on the form and technique used in literature
rather than its content, so that literature becomes an autonomous form of art which may stand on
its own—without its content.
Track: Technical-Vocational
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WRGHYHORSDNH\HFRQRPLFSURGXFWLQWKH6RXWKHDVW$VLDQFRXQWU\\RXDUHDVVLJQHGWR/DWHU
RQ\RXPXVWWUDGHWKLVSURGXFWZLWKWKDWRIDQRWKHUJURXSUHSUHVHQWLQJDGLɣHUHQW$6($1
country.
Research on the key economic product of your assigned country. Brainstorm on how
you can improve or enhance this product, and then create a marketing campaign through a
multimedia presentation that will best commercialize it. Make sure to create a commercial that
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WRKDYHRQH$6($1FRXQWU\ZLOOLQJWRLQYHVWLQ\RXUSURGXFWRUWRWUDGHZLWK\RX
+HUHLVDOLWHUDU\VHOHFWLRQIURP6RXWKHDVW$VLDWKDWPD\EHORRNHGDWZLWKIRUPDOLVP
Beloved E\8VPDQ$ZDQJZKLFK\RXFDQUHDGDWKWWSFRVPLFGLQHVKEORJVSRWFD
kekasih-beloved-by-usman-awang.html.
Big Idea
Oftentimes, you may get caught up in fantasies and idealisms that are not possible at all in your
current situation. Remember to maintain rationality during these times. If you think rationally, you will
make sound and logical decisions that involve yourself and those around you.
/RRNIRUVRXUFHVWKDWFDQWHOO\RXPRUHDERXWWKHFRQFHSWRI³GHIDPLOLDUL]DWLRQ´1RZWHOO
KRZWKLVSRHPLV DEOHWR³GHIDPLOLDUL]H´\RXU XQGHUVWDQGLQJRIORYH/LVW WKHGLɣHUHQWZD\V
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classmates.
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________

Where does formalism come from, and how is it used in critiquing literary selections?
How is formalism related to defamiliarization? How can a literary selection such as “Beloved”
defamiliarize you as a reader?
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
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collection Nine CutsZDVVKRUWOLVWHGIRUWKH6LQJDSRUH/LWHUDWXUH3UL]HZKLOHKHUQRYHOAs
the Heart Bones BreakZDVD¿QDOLVWLQWKH6LQJDSRUH%RRN$ZDUGV6KHZRUNHGLQLQYHVWPHQW
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SURPRWHV$VLDQOLWHUDWXUH
Fig. 10.1. Audrey Chin

Source: http://diacritics.org/wp-content/
uploads/2014/06/Audrey-Chin.jpg
The Dragon Fish

By Audrey Chin
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guppies. Time it fends for itself.”
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“Will that do?” he asked.
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know I’ll always see to that.”
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like him, cramped in a tank. We’ll release him into the canal. He can spend the rest of his life
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hand into the tank and skimmed the surface of the water with his thumb. Immediately, Da
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he said as the monster sank back sullenly to the bottom of the tank. “He won’t last more than
a day.”
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she needed both her hands and all her wits about her. Without the free food they got from the
boss, they wouldn’t even last the full seven days with a week’s severance, not with prices the
way they were.
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GD\´VKHVDLGWR$K6HQJ
He appeared not to have heard her. “Eat up, Da Long Wang, eat up,” he was saying to the
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one to be protected, their mother had always said.
6KHUXEEHGWKHEDFNRIKHUEURWKHU¶VQHFN³,¶OOJRDVNWKHkang-tao at the food court if
he can use us. If he says yes and you think of a way to get the tank upstairs, it’s fated to live.
2WKHUZLVH«´
#
Big Idea
)DWH IDYRXUHG WKH ¿VK 7KH kang-tao’s three illegal Overseas workers face many
Burmese cleaners had disappeared following a raid by struggles, which is why they are
,PPLJUDWLRQ $K 6HQJ DQG $K %HH FRXOG FRPH EDFN IXOO considered modern heroes.
time.
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it.”

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VL[ÀRRUVDERYH
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Brother and sister then went back downstairs to empty the rest of the water from the tank into
EXFNHWV7KH\FDUULHGWKHEXFNHWVXSWRWKHÀDWLQDVHFRQGDQGWKHQDWKLUGWULSDQG¿QDOO\WKH
emptied glass aquarium, pumps and other paraphernalia.
They installed the tank against their back wall and facing the front door, where their family
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hawkers at the food court, primarily mashed-up meat scraps and discarded prawn heads. On
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sake.
It was one of those times in their lives when everything was good. They were working.
They had three meals a day. They weren’t in arrears with the Housing Board. In the months
VLQFHWKH\PRYHGWKH¿VKXSVWDLUV$K6HQJKDGHYHQUHVXPHGKLVEXVLQHVVZULWLQJJRRGOXFN
FRXSOHWVIRUWKHQHLJKERXUV$QGKH¶GPDQDJHGWKUHHVPDOOZLQVDQGRQHELJRQHRQWKH'
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<HDU
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didn’t he know better? To be talking about their good luck so openly was sure to bring on the
opposite.
%XWVKHGLGQ¶WGDUHFKDVWLVHKHUEURWKHU1RWZKHQWKH kang-tao was nodding agreeably to
$K6HQJDQGSDWWLQJKLPRQWKHEDFNDQGRɣHULQJKLPDQH[WUDGROODUDQJSDR
³:KDWDERXWZHEULQJ\RXUGUDJRQ¿VKGRZQKHUH"´WKHkang-tao was suggesting. “We can
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¿VKLVOXFN\,ISHRSOHZLQWKH\¶OODOZD\VJLYHVRPHWKLQJEDFN\RXNQRZ«´+HZLQNHGDWWKH
brother and sister.
$K6HQJORRNHGDW$K%HH
³6XUH´VKHVDLG³,IQRWKLQJHOVHZHZRQ¶WKDYHWRSD\IRUWKHHOHFWULFLW\WRUXQKLVZDWHU
pump.”
***
'D/RQJ:DQJOHIWWKHVLEOLQJV¶ÀDWZLWKPXFKJUHDWHUIDQIDUHWKDQKHKDGHQWHUHG
³1REODFNUXEELVKEDJIRUD'PDVWHU´WKHkang-tao declared.
$ 7DRLVW SULHVW DUUDQJHG E\ WKH kang-tao and sponsored by the hawkers’ association,
RɤFLDWHGDWWKH*UHDW'UDJRQ.LQJ¶VPRYH+HZDVFDUULHGGRZQWKHVWDLUFDVHDQGLQWRWKH
OLIWLQDIXOO\¿OOHGWDQNFDUHIXOO\FRYHUHGZLWKDPLFDWRSWKDWZDVVHFXUHGZLWKUHGDQGJROG
bunting. The tank’s installation was accompanied by taped orchestral music and two tables of
feasting courtesy of the food court’s zi char vendor.
“From now on we’ll be responsible for Da Long Wang’s food and the chemicals for the
tank,” the kang-tao informed the brother and sister. “We’ll pay for everything—joss sticks
IRUWKHZRUVKLSSHUVWKHÀRZHUVHOHFWULFLW\$IWHUFRYHULQJWKHH[SHQVHVWKHWDNLQJVZLOOEH
VSOLWSHUFHQWIRUWKHKDZNHUV¶DVVRFLDWLRQDQGPHDQGWKHWHPSOHSHUFHQWIRUWKHERWK
RI\RX´ KH FRQWLQXHG +H SRXUHGPRUH EHHU LQWR $K6HQJ¶V JODVV ³$V IRUDQ\ FRXSOHWV WKH
devotees want you to write, you get to keep all the money from them. Fair, right?”
$K6HQJQRGGHG$K%HHVFDQQHGWKHWZRWDEOHVTXLFNO\7KHUHZHUHWZRRIWKHPHLJKWHHQ
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***
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the corridor lights on all night. It was never dark enough for him to rest. I shouldn’t have been
VRFDUHOHVV,VKRXOGKDYHVWDUWHGJRLQJGRZQWRFRYHUXSWKHWDQNHDUOLHU´$K6HQJVREEHGWR
$K%HH
Reflect Upon
What superstitions about animals do we have in the Philippines?
___________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________
“Ai yohHYHQ'PDVWHUVGLHRIROGDJH<RXWKLQNKHZDVDJRGRUZKDW"´$K%HHUHSOLHG
JUXPSLO\PRUHFRQFHUQHGDERXWWKHWZRRIWKHPWKDQWKH¿VK
They’d had a good run—the two of them, the kang-tao and his associates, the neighbourhood
7DRLVWSULHVW7KH\¶GKDGVXFKDJRRGUXQ$K6HQJKDGWULHGWRFRQYLQFHKHUWKH\VKRXOGVWRS
ZRUNLQJ+HZDVVKHZDVQHDUO\KH¶GUHDVRQHG7KH\VKRXOGNLFNEDFNWKHLUOHJVDQG
relax. He could spend more time on his calligraphy, she could take up mahjong.
³:KDWDVWXSLGLGHD´VKH¶GVDLG³:KDWGR\RXWKLQNZH¶UHJRLQJWRHDWLIWKH¿VKVWRSV
predicting?”
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the collections for the couplets and to hand the money to her together with their monthly
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beer money. What with this and that, including a few lucky strikes on the lottery, she now had
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tank and the run of their luck over?
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They’d made him confess to that brush with idiocy anyway.
“The things they did to me. I had to!” she’d heard him whispering to their mother months
after they’d let him out.
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what followed—the string of incidents with his students and then the second incarceration, the
way things fell apart after he came out the second time, how both he and their mother ended
XSLQ:RRGEULGJH+RVSLWDO1R$K%HHZDVTXLWHVXUH$K6HQJZRXOGQRWVXUYLYHDQRWKHU
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“Was there anyone else around?” she asked her brother.
“I don’t think so. It was past midnight.”
³$QGGLG\RXFRYHUWKHWDQNXSDQ\ZD\DIWHU\RXVDZKH¶GGLHG"´
“Of course. I didn’t think it would be respectful, letting everyone see him the way he was.”
³6RPD\EHQRRQHNQRZVKH¶VGHDG\HW´
“I know. Isn’t that enough?”
$K%HHIURZQHGWKHVKDGRZRIDVFKHPHIRUPLQJ<HH\DWVD\IDWWWKHFDUGLQDOQXPEHUV
in her bank balance sure sounded a lot like the Cantonese homonyms for ‘easy days and after-
GHDWKSURVSHULW\¶6KHZDVFOXWFKLQJDWVWUDZVVKHNQHZEXW«
³$K6HQJGRHV\RXUFDOOLJUDSK\LQNUXQZKHQLWJHWVZHW"´
³1RQRWWKHJRRGVWXɣ,¶YHEHHQEX\LQJUHFHQWO\:K\"´
6KHLJQRUHGKLVTXHVWLRQ+HUKHDUWEHDWLQJVKHWRVVHGKLPDEUXVK³+HUHJULQGVRPH
ink. I need you to write something.”
“What for?”
“Just do it. In your best hand. We don’t have much time. I have to speak to the kang-tao
alone, before everyone else turns up for the morning shift.”
***
$IWHUKHDULQJ$K%HHRXWDQGVHWWLQJXSWKHQHFHVVDU\WKHkang-tao called the head of the

hawkers’ association and then the Taoist priest.
³6DG QHZV« <HV WKH ' PDVWHU¶V SDVVHG RQ %XW \RX ZRQ¶W EHOLHYH LW KH KDV D VFUROO
clamped tight in his maw,” the kang-tao PDGHLWNQRZQ³1R«,¶YHQRLGHDZKDW¶VZULWWHQRQ
LW,WFRXOGEHYDOXDEOHWKRXJK«7RRYDOXDEOHIRUPHWRKDYHVROHUHVSRQVLELOLW\%HVWLI\RX
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By the time the two dignitaries arrived—the hawker head in a long-sleeved shirt buttoned
up to the collar, the priest in his grey regalia—a larger-than-usual crowd had gathered around
the tank. Upside down and dead, Da Long Wang seemed even more imposing than when he
was alive and sulking. In the aquarium’s blue light, the silver scales on his square head and
blunt tail seemed to shine with a supernatural glow. His big jaws, clamping a white scroll just
DERYHWKHZDWHUOLQHVHHPHGGH¿DQWDOPRVWFKDOOHQJLQJ³7DNHWKHVHVHFUHWVRQO\LI\RXGDUH´
his whiskers, wavering ominously in the water, seemed to warn.
The Taoist priest showed he had the guts. Dipping his forearms into the water, he lifted the
¿VKXSDQGSXOOHGRXWWKHVFUROO
***
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the market crowds grumbled. Who can say they’re for real; that priest and the kang-tao and
that head hawker could’ve staged it all; a scam, for sure. You won’t catch me buying into it!
But enough people were willing to give the gang of three a chance. Or rather, they were
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100 dollars against the chance of winning the big prize?
³&RQVLGHU LW D FRQWULEXWLRQ WR WKH ' 0DVWHU¶V IXQHUDO´ WKH kang-tao said to the half-
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EDFNWR\RXLQDGUHDPZLWKPRUHQXPEHUV«´
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optimistic calculations. Within three days enough had been collected for a suitable funeral
procession for the Great Dragon King, the kang-tao WROG$K%HHDQGWKHRWKHUWZR³$QGVWLOO
10 more days to the funeral,” he said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.
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prayer.
The morning of the funeral, the eighteenth of the eighth lunar month, dawned hot and
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wrapped in a piece of red-and-gold brocade, out of the zi char vendor’s freezer. Ceremoniously,
KHSODFHGWKH¿VKEDFNLQWRKLVQRZGU\WDQN)RXUQRPLQDWHGNLWFKHQKHOSHUVOLIWHGWKHWDQN
RQWRWKHEDFNRIWKHKHDGKDZNHU¶VSLFNXS7KHQZLWKWKHNDQJWDR$K%HHDQGDVSUXFHGXS
VREHU$K6HQJLQDWWHQGDQFHWKHWUXFNGURYHRɣLQWKHULVLQJKHDWWRWKH(DVW&RDVWSLHU

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and squashed into a rented van. The plan was to entrust Da Long Wang to the sea, at the
pier, then present the scroll with the magic numbers to the winner of the Great Dragon King’s
funeral lottery.
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winner’s name. I’ll hand the scroll over and that’s that.”
³7KH PRQH\¶V EHHQ FROOHFWHG DQG VKDUHG WKH JRRGV ZLOO EH GHOLYHUHG WKH ¿VK VXLWDEO\
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$K%HHDQG$K6HQJKDGQRWKLQJWRDGG$K%HHVHQVHG$K6HQJZRXOGKDYHOLNHGPRUH
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she?
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and the closing prayers for Da Long Wang’s commitment to the waters a mere 60 seconds. But
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VOLGHLQWRWKHZDWHUV8QZUDSSLQJWKH¿VKKHWXUQHGWRIDFHWKHVHDOLIWHGWKHERG\XSDQGOHW
RXWDKLJKXOXODWLQJ\RGHOEHIRUHÀLQJLQJWKH*UHDW'UDJRQ.LQJRXWLQWRWKHVN\DQGWRZDUGV
the horizon. He might even have continued to watch for a few minutes more to ensure the
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ZLQQHULV"¶$VLWZDVKHZDVFDOOHGEDFNWRKLVGXWLHVWRZDUGVWKHKXQJU\SXQWHUVDQG'D/RQJ
:DQJ¶V¿QDOMRXUQH\LQWRWKHYRLGZDVZLWQHVVHGRQO\E\$K%HHDQG$K6HQJ
With everyone elbowing and shoving towards the lottery winner to get a touch of the lucky
scroll, no one but the brother and sister watched Da Long Wang’s body arch upwards and then
EHJLQLWVIDOOLQWRWKHVHD1RRQHEXW$K%HHDQG$K6HQJVDZWKHÀRFNRIVHDJXOOVOLIWLQJ'D
/RQJ:DQJ¶VERG\XSDJDLQLQWRWKHVN\1RUGLGDQ\RQHH[FHSWWKHVLEOLQJVVHHKLPGLVDSSHDU
piece by piece as the hungry birds fought and tore at their meal.
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+HUEURWKHUZDVQRZFU\LQJ$K%HHGLGQ¶WQHHGD'PDVWHUWRSUHGLFWZKDWZRXOGFRPH
QH[W ZKDW KDGFRPH EHIRUH 6KH VDZ LW DJDLQ²WKH DUF RI VLOYHU IDOOLQJ WKH KHDYLQJGHSWKV
below.
Guide Questions:
 :KDWLV$K6HQJ¶VUHODWLRQVKLSZLWK'D/RQJ:DQJ"+RZDERXW$K%HHkang-tao, and the
7DRLVWSULHVW"+RZGRWKH\VHHWKHGUDJRQ¿VK"
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2. What does the ending paragraph symbolize?
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3. Using defamiliarization, explain the central theme(s) of the story and how it can be
contextualized to your common experience as a Filipino.
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Track: Academic
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countries. For this issue, you are assigned to write a short critical paper that discusses the
IROORZLQJZRUNV³,V,WWKH.LQJ¿VKHU"´E\0DUMRULH(YDVFRDQG³,QWKH0LGVWRI+DUGVKLS´E\
/DWLɣ0RKLGLQ
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XQGHUZKLFKWKH\RSHUDWHDQGWKHQ¿QGWKHVLPLODUWKHPHVDULVLQJIURPWKHWZR,WZRXOGDOVR
EHKHOSIXOWR GLVFXVVWKHZRUNVZLWK DFHUWDLQWKHPHRU LVVXHDWKDQGRU ¿QGDQDSSOLFDEOH
OLWHUDU\WKHRU\RQFRQFHSWVWRXVHVXFKDVGHIDPLOLDUL]DWLRQ$WWKHVDPHWLPHWKHZRUNVKRXOG
be creatively written. Write your 1 000-word article and submit it to your editor. Write a draft
or outline of your article here.
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1. To immerse yourself fully in the concepts of formalism, visit the Purdue OWL website at
https://owl.english.purdue.edu/owl/resource/722/03/.First link is working as of January
3OHDVHFKDQJHVHFRQGOLQNZLWKWKHRQHEHORZ
 7KHUHDUHPDQ\ZULWLQJDZDUGVIRU6RXWKHDVW$VLDQZULWHUV<RXFDQ¿QGVRPHRIWKHP
DWKWWSVERRNFRXQFLOVJDZDUGV0DQ\ZULWHUVLQWKH$6($1UHJLRQLQFOXGLQJ)LOLSLQR
writers, have already received these awards.
Essential Learning
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EHHQ PDQ\ FKDOOHQJHV WR 6RXWKHDVW $VLD¶V KLVWRU\ DQG WKH YDVWQHVV DQG XQLTXHQHVV RI WKH
literature in the 11 countries that belong to this corner of the world shows the extent of these
experiences.
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aims to look at the way the literary work uses words and techniques to present something
entirely new to the reader, so that familiar experiences and situations are defamiliarized, or
made new and modern. The three selections included in this module certainly shows how
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as the weather, longings, beliefs, and customs, to name a few.
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Module
11 The Roots of East Asia
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 6LWXDWHWKHWH[WVLQWKHFRQWH[WRIWKHUHJLRQQDWLRQDQGWKHZRUOG
 $SSO\,&7VNLOOVLQFUDIWLQJDQDGDSWDWLRQRIDOLWHUDU\WH[W
 'RVHOIDQGRUSHHUDVVHVVPHQWRIWKHFUHDWLYHDGDSWDWLRQRIDOLWHUDU\WH[WEDVHG
on a rationalized criteria prior to presentation.
The Civilization of East Asia

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erectus RU ³XSULJKW PDQ´ OLYHG LQ ERWK (DVW DQG 6RXWKHDVW $VLD DOPRVW WZR PLOOLRQ \HDUV DJR
6XEVHTXHQWO\IRVVLOVRIHomo erectus men, or the Peking Men, were found near Beijing, China.
These Homo erectus individuals are believed to have lived in China and Indonesia.
The early Homo erectusZHUHWKH¿UVWRQHVWRPLJUDWHWRRWKHUSDUWVRI$VLDDQGZHUHIROORZHG
by herds of animals such as mammoths. They brought with them their own culture and practices
WRGLɣHUHQWSDUWVRIWKHZRUOG
7KH ¿UVW G\QDVWLHV HYHU UHFRUGHG ZHUH LQ &KLQD DQG WKH ¿UVW G\QDVW\ ZDV FDOOHG WKH ;LD
'\QDVW\7KLVZDVIROORZHGE\WKH6KDQJ'\QDVW\RIWKH<HOORZ5LYHU9DOOH\,WLVLQWHUHVWLQJWR
note that the Zhou Dynasty was the longest lasting dynasty in Chinese history. During this dynasty,
bronze ware was developed into mass production, and written script became the modern Chinese
characters that you are familiar with today.
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were all intertwined with Chinese culture in some way. Confucianism, for one, became a state
religion during the Han Dynasty. Eventually, these beliefs, traditions, and practices spilled onto
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Islands (now known as Okinawa prefecture), Tibet, and Taiwan.
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history/east-asia/. Then with your group mates, create a visual representation of a time line
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your time line. Present your output in class. Make a preliminary sketch here.

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Postcolonial Literature
7KH H[WHQVLYH KLVWRU\ RI FRORQLDOLVP LQ $VLD FDQQRW EH Big Idea
GHQLHG $OPRVW DOO $VLDQ FRXQWULHV KDYH EHHQ FRORQL]HG LQ Living in a postcolonial era, it
some way or another. In response to this long history of may be quite challenging for you to
determine which parts of you are
colonization and the aftermath of it, literature has begun to truly Filipino, and which parts of
tackle these prevailing issues in society. Literary criticism has you are influenced by our previous
also responded to this, with an intellectual discourse called colonizers. A healthy discussion
postcolonialism or postcolonial studies. of these issues is important to
acknowledge the ways in which
What is postcolonialism? It is an era or theory that is you can respond and deal with the
realities of living in a postcolonial
developed after a certain colony gains independence from
country.
its mother country. Postcolonialism looks at these colonial
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respond to the independence it is suddenly given, and how is it still bound to the countries that
have colonized it beforehand?
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that the colonizers have brought and left behind?
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imperialism on the characters. Furthermore, it also seeks to look at the way the powers of the
colonizers are extended beyond their colonial era and into the future of the colonized country.
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decolonization. Decolonization is the intellectual process of returning to the former independence
that colonies have enjoyed before the colonizers came. Here, the pervading ideas, cultural practices,
and beliefs that were integrated and taught by the colonizers may be deconstructed from the minds
of the natives. It is an extensive and exhaustive process of change, of eliminating the tethers that
bind the colonies with their colonizers and regaining the power that was lost upon colonization.
Form groups with three members each. Each group will be assigned an essay to read in the
postcolonial essays found at KWWSVKGLYDSRUWDORUJVPDVKJHWGLYD)8//7(;7
pdf. Read your assigned essays as a group and prepare a short slide presentation that discusses
EULHÀ\WKHIROORZLQJ
1. What is the essay about?
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
2. What literary works or cultural artifacts were discussed in the essay?
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
3. What are the major points of the essay?
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
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_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________

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particular colony, they destroy native beliefs and cultural practices, only to replace these with their
own. When left on their own to pursue independence, the colonies usually face the challenge of
forming a concrete nationwide identity.
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http://www.visual-mapping.com/ for samples.
East Asia
Postcolonialism ĞĐŽůŽŶŝǌĂƟŽŶ
Postcolonial
Literature
Li Bai, also known as Li Bo, was a Chinese poet who was known for his genius, romantic
musings, and innovation. He took traditional poetic forms to new heights. Li Bai and his friend Du
)XZHUHWKHPRVWIDPRXVSRHWVGXULQJWKH7DQJ'\QDVW\ZKLFKLVDOVRNQRZQDVWKH³*ROGHQ$JH
of Chinese Poetry.”
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By Li Bai
Green hills above the northern wall,

White water winding east of the city.
On this spot our single act of parting,
The lonely tumbleweed journeys ten thousand li.
Drifting clouds echo the traveller’s thoughts,
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<RXZDYH\RXUKDQGDQGVHWRɣIURPWKLVSODFH
<RXUKRUVHZKLQQLHVDVLWOHDYHV
Source: http://www.chinese-poems.com/lb15t.html
Reflect Upon
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_______________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
Big Idea
Literature is oftentimes a reflection of the various array of cultures a particular country has, based
on its history. Aside from this, literature has often been seen as another historical account of a country’s
development—a mirror of all the peoples who have made the country the way it is now.
&KRQ3RQJJRQZDVERUQLQ1RUWK.RUHDEDFNLQDQGÀHG
WR WKH 6RXWK LQ  $IWHU EHLQJ GLVFKDUJHG IURP WKH DUP\ KH
became a poet who championed the integration of the experiences
of war in poetry. His poems are usually about the ways to deal with
and overcome the traumatic experiences of war.
Read one of Chon Ponggon’s poems, If you come to a
stony Place DW KWWSKRPSLVRJDQJDFNUDQWKRQ\NOWIDOO
chonponggon.htm. Fig. 11.1. Chon Ponggon
Source: http://www.pianotopics.
nl/24FB%20Ponggon%20
Chon.jpg
Reflect Upon
Which parts of the poem show the trauma war has brought upon the people? Can this text
be analyzed through postcolonialism? If so, what message then does the poem impart about
postcolonialism?
_______________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
1. If a literary piece is not necessarily about postcolonialism but is written by an author from
a colonized country, will postcolonial cues manifest? Why or why not?
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________

_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
2. How do the lenses of postcolonial and decolonization help you understand the literary
pieces in this module?
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
Krys Lee is a Korean author who is a

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Drifting House and debut novel How I
Became a North Korean are both published
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an assistant professor of creative writing and
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Fig. 11.2. Krys Lee
,QWHUQDWLRQDO &ROOHJH LQ 6RXWK .RUHD DQG Source: ŚƩƉƐ͗ͬͬǁǁǁ͘ǁŽƌůĚůŝƚĞƌĂƚƵƌĞƚŽĚĂǇ͘ŽƌŐͬďůŽŐͬ
has various works appearing in Granta, The ĨƌŝĚĂǇͲůŝƚͲůŝŶŬƐͬƌĞƐƉŽŶĚŝŶŐͲĐĞŶƐŽƌƐŚŝƉͲůŝƚĞƌĂƌǇͲ
Kenyon Review, Narrative, San Francisco ĐĂƚĐŚƉŚƌĂƐĞƐͲĂŶĚͲŵŽƌĞ
Chronicle, Corriere della Sera, and The
Guardian, among others.
Fat
By Krys Lee
There was only one word to describe me and that was fat. Fat as a melon in its full ripeness,
fat as a double-decker hamburger threatening to capsize, fat as a woman’s belly heavy with
triplets. My body moved slowly, heavy with itself, unable to trip along as fast as my words.
The irony was, I wasn’t fat enough. I was certainly bigger than I’d ever been, and too heavy
to practice or to attend backup dancer auditions, but still eight kilos from the deadline. The
trouble was, my weight gain had reached a plateau at ninety kilograms despite an arduous
daily regimen of spicy fried chicken, sweet potato pizza, jajang noodles, hot dogs, and ice-
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on my lower dresser drawer. I ate three portions of french fries a day. I’d sneak in an extra slice
of pound cake after dinner.
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tired of it, like you get tired of everything else.” When he realized that I was determined, he
tried to make me vomit out what he called my disgrace. He stood to his full formidable height,
a rectangle of veiny muscle, and thumped my back as I stared stubbornly into the toilet water.
He said he would turn me into the authorities. He threatened to dunk my head into the toilet
and use my hair to clean it. Thankfully, Eomma was hanging onto his arms from behind so he
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“What’s a bulimic?” He said, “I’m trying to make you an upright citizen.”
The thing was, I didn’t think our government really needed me to do over two years of
military service. They had nearly seven hundred thousand kids doing that job for them, and
that wasn’t including the professionally enlisted soldiers. I had spent more than a few nights
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my conscience that he claimed I didn’t have, I had decided that the army could do without me.
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of cheddar cheese, I announced that I was less than ten kilograms away from my goal which
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showed pleasure if his favorite baseball team won a game or when a new world map arrived via
mail order, or anger when he found out that, once again, I’d burrowed back into the comforter
after his six o’clock morning call. He was the kind of man who found it too embarrassing to
buy roses for his wife and gave us money so we could buy our own birthday presents. But now
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genuine tear from a man who’d recited a ten-minute speech without a single pause at his own
mother’s funeral.
The entire family stared. I stared. Even if he did care more about his reputation than
my well-being, I almost felt sorry. Then he wiped his eyes, and stared back. The weakness
disappeared from his face as if it had never happened.
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But it was clear that I was eating because I didn’t want to be stationed anywhere near the
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is, hysterical and more than a little unreasonable.
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We’d mix edible roots and leaves into a little bowl of barley and if we were lucky, we got a few
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Reflect Upon
What aspects of Korean culture, traditions, and practices are evident in the story?
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___________________________________________________________
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He overturned his bowl of rice on the lacquered table, which would send my mother on a
two-day cooking strike, but didn’t frighten me at all. The only thing frightening was his wide
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gangster.
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What kind of history did they teach you at school?”
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what was important.
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choice.
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LQD¿YHVWDUKRWHOIRUIUHH´
His face had turned the shade of a gala apple so I poured him a glass of water.
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a little exaggeration.”
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“They’re starving up there! We’re the least of their worries. Besides, they were just trying
to unify the country.”
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I was glad to hear that, though I pretended to be hurt.
“Wonsu,” my sister said as she rose for work, “When you get a job and everyone’s exchanging
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without giving up a few years of her life. Just because she and my oldest married sister didn’t
have a penis, they wouldn’t be forced not to sleep for nights or endure violent hazing sessions,
or run up mountains carrying an M16 while wearing boots that weighed as much as a newborn
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to watch their circus, even building a glittering resort on their side of Kumgang Mountain.
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programmed by the government, and in a way, he was. He’d retired from the Incheon naval
base two years ago and still walked in measured steps as if life was to be lived by a manual. He
commanded people instead of talking to them even if every civic organization he joined (and
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“the only honest civil servant,” which he loved, and my younger cousins buzzed after him like
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better. He was a springer of math problems over steak when I cared more about my hairstyle
than the amount of air pressure in an igloo. He was a paduk player who didn’t understand my
music or the dancing that he compared to an epileptic making love. He made me wear a cap
when I grew my hair out and warned me that if I pierced my ears, he’d make me wear pink
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been in the army too long and while the army hadn’t changed, Korea had.
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He studied a hole in my knee before saying, “I’ve tried it your Eomma’s way, but there’s
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washed-up friends and you’re going to eat. That’s what you’re going to do, eat.”
“I do have a job.”
“Delivering Chinese food is not a job.”
“The pay’s double on weekends!”
I tried to dash past him but he gripped my arms and forced me into my room. He was
nearly sixty, and still, twice as strong as me.
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persimmon cakes, and dumped them into an empty ramen box. I helplessly watched him
FRQ¿VFDWHmy things the same way he’d done when I was younger and he’d thrown out my
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to be a comic book artist.
“Eomma!” I shouted, but she didn’t come.
He said, “I’ll bring you lunch, not that you’ll need it.”
I said, “Is there no free speech? If you were president of this country, would I get a vote?”
“What is free speech?” He said, and closed the door.
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chained the outdoor doorknob to something I couldn’t see. I threw my body against the door
but it didn’t move. I shouted, “Eomma! Eomma!”
The door stayed shut.
I was abandoned, alone, locked up like a political prisoner tortured for expressing myself.
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and could spin and move with the best. Then I did what I’d promised myself I wouldn’t do.
I undressed in front of the closet’s full-length mirror and examined the soft sacs of fat of my
arms, my padded legs and stomach, at what had become me.
I had to get out.
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stuck his head out the window above mine and said, “Would you please stop? I’m trying to
study.”
Minutes later, I was sitting in his room rubbing the burns on my palms and he was pulling
up the jump rope.
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his forehead and too-tight jeans that hugged his bony buttocks. But four months before his
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stay on the bed?”
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hard on my rump.
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the folds of an old lady’s stomach after liposuction.
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next to nothing!”
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he sees you’re gone. The chances of me letting you stay is like picking a star out of the sky.”
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college entrance exams twice?”
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He said this when my high school teacher called him about my attendance, when I’d skipped
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man’s responsibility is to marry his mistakes,” he said, and was punished by Eomma who gave
him day-old rice for a full week.
I was lazy. But I didn’t see anything wrong with wanting an easy life. I just needed a few
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what I liked. Once upon a time I had tried to study and please him, tried to sit still and compete
with students whose eyeglasses were so thick they must have been born reading, but I didn’t
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frog’s intestines, no matter how I tried. Besides, after I failed the college entrance exam for the
second time, I started to wonder why go to college and become one of the studious boys that
were already on their way to becoming paunchy salarymen with the same regulation haircuts
and same mistresses and same sorrows? The same smiles? I started to wonder what I really
wanted to do with my life.
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member’s children, the President’s, the wealthier businessmen, even a lot of professor’s brats,
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were healthy enough to do military service but a few years later, they mysteriously recovered
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diesel fumes but to me, this smell of freedom was sweeter than azaleas. I had one of those
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greatest rapper, blasted through. His autograph blazed across one knee of my acid-washed

jeans. I felt better than I looked. I crossed three streets and turned down an alley with my eyes
closed, following the smell of rubber burning from factory chimneystacks.
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father’s credit card debt.
“Late for what?”
“We were thinking of seeing a movie or practicing, or something.”
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professional backup dancer, who made Dongdaemun Market sweaters look department store
quality.
Hwangmin said, “There’s an audition next Wednesday.” He didn’t look at me.
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He said, “Maybe three or four. It’ll be a tough one, but good chances.” He laughed. “You
interested?”
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months, then I could lose the weight.
I said, “Right now, that’s like asking a monster truck to do a Porsche’s work.”
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“I think about other things.”
“Like what?”
“Lunch! Can we get some lunch?”
They laughed again. It wasn’t hard to get them to laugh. I wondered if I’d ever be able lose
all this weight and even if I did, would I ever get a real dancing job that paid actual money? Or
would I end up spending the rest of my afternoons drinking beer and soju and spending my
evenings delivering mapoWRIX",ZDVVWDUWLQJWRVRXQGOLNH$EHRMLVR,WXUQHGRQWKHWHOHYLVLRQ
to see if there were any good-looking girls on or if they were the sparkly-hairpin-we-only-date-
gentlemen-with-crew-cuts-and-backpacks type.
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them to wait outside in case I needed help. I didn’t want to hurt Eomma. But most of all, I
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with them even after marriage and take care of them in their old age. But I wasn’t a good son,
and it was better that he learned that early.
The family had made their own preparations. The living room was full of the people I
dreaded most: my relatives. There they were, twenty or so of them squeezed in like a traveling
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Uncle who wore hiking clothes everywhere though he rarely went hiking, even a cousin who’d
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better person because of it.
I looked at Eomma. 6KHORRNHGDSRORJHWLF6KHPRXWKHGLWZDV$EED¶VLGHDDVLI,QHHGHG
FODUL¿FDWLRQ
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happened every day.
Eomma said, “Remember? He immigrated to Canada last year.”
$EHRMLVDLG³$QGwhere were you?”
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so rude that I wouldn’t say hello to my relatives.
“I was at the library.” I lied. “I’m thinking of taking the entrance exams again.”
My cousin leaned forward, the knob in his throat as big as a boiled egg bobbing up and
down. His face was pitted with pock-mark scars like the craters on the moon. He looked
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<RX¶UHDQDEVROXWHVKDPHWR\RXUFRXQWU\´
The room nodded.
,WXUQHGP\VNXOOFDSEDFNZDUGV³6KHHSDO´
My cousin said, “There’s adults here! Curses just stick to your lips, don’t they?”
(OGHVW$XQWVDLG³'R\RXZDQWWRUXLQDOO\RXUIDWKHU¶VJRRGZRUN"´
Eldest Uncle, or Professor Kim as he liked to be called, even by his nieces and nephews,
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perfectly disgusting.”
I rubbed my belly swelling underneath my t-shirt. That I was. I was kind of proud my
HɣRUWV
I said, “I’m not going.”
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and embarrass himself. He said, “Can’t you see what everyone will think of you for the rest of
your life? We’re trying to help you.”
I said, “Let them think.”
:KHQ$ERMLVSRNHKLVYRLFHZDVTXLHWHUWKDQLWKDGHYHUEHHQ³,PD\QRWDOZD\VEHULJKW
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live together.”

That’s when I pulled out the crumbled rental contract from my pocket and waved it like a
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live with this military delusion any longer!”
It was supposed to be my moment of triumph, my declaration of independence. But
VRPHWKLQJLQWKHORRN$EHRMLH[FKDQJHGZLWK(RPPDDQGWKHZD\WKHKDUGFHUDPLFVXUIDFHRI
his face began to melt, subdued me.
Then he slowly twisted back toward Eomma and said, “It must be heartburn. It must’ve
been the meat,” and collapsed.
$W¿UVW,¶GWKRXJKWWKDW$EHRMLKDGIDNHGDKHDUWDWWDFNEHFDXVHKLVVOXPSHGRYHUERG\
looked just like it did in the movies. I’d said, “Let’s just check if it’s real before we haul him to
the hospital.”
$V\RXFDQLPDJLQHLQWKHHPHUJHQF\URRPP\UHODWLYHVVHDWHGWKHPVHOYHVDIHZVHDWV
away from me and occasionally snuck glances my way as if I were a cancerous wart.
,VWDUHGDWP\KDQGVDW(RPPDELWLQJKHU¿QJHUQDLOVGRZQWREORRG\HGJHVWKHKROHLQP\
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P\IDFHDQGLPDJLQHGVXɣRFDWLQJP\VHOI
We were there for a few hours when the resident doctor made a magisterial appearance
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had evidently needed blood pressure medication for some time but had refused to take it.
(RPPDZDVZHHSLQJ³,W¶V\RXU$EHRML¶VVWXEERUQQHVVDOORYHUDJDLQ,NHSWWHOOLQJKLPWKDW
the broth of deer antlers wasn’t the same as Western medicine. If he’d only taken his pills...”
I said, “Why didn’t you tell us about his blood pressure?”
0\FRXVLQVDLGVRXUO\³:RXOGLWKDYHPDGHDGLɣHUHQFH"´
(RPPDNQXFNOHVWXUQHGZKLWHDVVKHFOHQFKHGKHUKDQGVWLJKWO\WRJHWKHU1RPDWWHUZKDW
VKHVDLG VKHNQHZ ,NQHZWKDW LI,¶G MXVWJRQH WRWKH DUP\OLNH, ZDVVXSSRVHG WR$EHRML
wouldn’t be lying on a gurney right now.
I laid down across the creaking seats. The hump of my belly blocked out the other waiting
families, my family, everyone but myself. I closed my eyes. The next time I opened my eyes, I’d
made my decision. I was going to shave my head, run those ten kilometers a day. I was ready
to eat dry clumps of rice and runny kimchee. To share a bunkroom with two dozen other men
cultivating mold between their toes, and haul myself out of bed at the sinful hour of six in the
PRUQLQJ,ILWNHSW$EHRMLDOLYH,ZRXOGHYHQJLYHXSKRWGRJVIRUEUHDNIDVW,ZDVWLUHGRIEHLQJ
a disappointment.
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monitor beside his bed wobbled dangerously when he reached for my hand. But he had already
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“When are they letting me out?” he complained.
³$EHRML\RXQHHGWRUHVW<RXKDYHQ¶WUHVWHGIRURYHUIRUW\\HDUV7KDW¶VZKDW\RXQHHGD
rest.”
I began to cry. I couldn’t help myself. He looked smaller lying down. It was true, what they
said. Gravity did compress the backbone and shrink you slowly with age. He was proof of it. In
a few years, I’d probably be able to carry him.
+HSDWWHGP\KDQGDZNZDUGO\ ³:RQVXGRQ¶WFU\,¶PQRWGHDG 6DYHWKHWHDUVIRUWKH
funeral, but you’ll have to wait a good long time for that.”
,VDLG³$EHRML,,KDYHVRPHWKLQJWRVD\´
0\DQQRXQFHPHQWZDVVZDOORZHGXSDV$EHRMLJDVSHGDQGVDLG³-XVWOLVWHQWRWKDW´
“What?”
He was waving his arms in the air like a village shaman dancing with the dead, which made
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which wasn’t easy—and gathered them together.
³$EHRML\RX¶UHQRWZHOO<RXQHHGWRFDOPGRZQ´
He pulled me closer despite the clear tube going up his nose, and gazed into my eyes.
³6RQ´KHVDLGLQDVORZVROHPQZD\³\RX¶YHEHHQJLYHQDFKDQFH´
³$FKDQFH",KDYHVRPHWKLQJWRWHOO\RX,²´
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EDQQHGJHQHUDOZHLJKWH[HPSWLRQV<RX¶OOJRLQDER\DQGFRPHEDFNWRXVDVDPDQ<RXGRQ¶W
need to be afraid.”
The newscaster continued to drone on about the many ways that young men were trying
to become exempt from military service. Finally the screen switched to an image of a burning
insurance building in downtown. There was nothing left for me to do but fold up my redemption
LQWRP\EDFNSRFNHWRIXQUHDOL]HGLGHDVDQGVOXPSLQWRWKHFKDLUDV$EHRMLORRNHGZLWKORYH
and pity at me, forever his prodigal son.
Activity:
,GHQWLI\WKUHHVFHQDULRVLQWKHVWRU\WKDWLOOXVWUDWHFDXVHDQGHɣHFWUHODWLRQVKLSV:ULWH
your answers in the table.
Cause (ɣHFW

1. What obstacle was Wonsu facing, and what were his actions to overcome it?
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
2. What was Wonsu’s real passion? What was the obstacle that hindered him from achieving
this?
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
3. What postcolonial experiences are evident in the story?
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
 +RZGRSRVWFRORQLDOH[SHULHQFHVDɣHFWWKHFRQWHPSRUDU\VRFLHW\"
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
 :KDWLVWKHQDWXUHRIFRQWHPSRUDU\.RUHDQOLWHUDWXUHEDVHGRQWKHVWRU\"
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
The local bar that has also become a hub for writers, artists, and performers is organizing
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poet-performers in the literary scene, you have been invited to participate in the showcase of
spoken word performances.
6HDUFK RQOLQH RU FKHFN OLEUDU\ UHVRXUFHV IRU D SRHP ZULWWHQ E\ DQ $VLDQ ZULWHU DERXW
postcolonial experiences or other topics. Memorize the poem, and perform it for the competition.
The criteria for judging are as follows:
Criterion Points
6WDJHSUHVHQFH 
Interpretation and delivery 
Memorization 10
Choice of piece 
$XGLHQFHLPSDFW 
1. Watch a creative retelling of the history of Japan and its nearby countries at https://www.
\RXWXEHFRPZDWFK"Y 0K/<0]R 5HÀHFW RQ KRZ -DSDQHVH OLWHUDWXUH FDPH WR EH
EDVHGRQWKHFRXQWU\¶VKLVWRU\6KDUH\RXULQVLJKWVZLWKWKHFODVV
2. To know more about Korean Literature, check out
• http://www.asianinfo.org/asianinfo/korea/literature.htm and
• https://www.britannica.com/art/Korean-literature.

Essential Learning
(DVW$VLDQOLWHUDWXUHLVULFKLQKLVWRU\FXOWXUHDQGWUDGLWLRQV7KHUHKDYHEHHQUHIHUHQFHV
WKDWFLYLOL]DWLRQPLJKWKDYHEHJXQLQ(DVW$VLD$OVRWKHLQÀXHQFHRI(DVW$VLDFDQEHIHOWLQ
many countries around the world up to today.
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7KHVH H[SHULHQFHV ZLWK FRORQL]DWLRQ ZDU DQG LQGHSHQGHQFH KDYH LQÀXHQFHG LWV OLWHUDWXUH
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work. It is similar to the way you look at your own literature as a Filipino—remember that our
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four hundred years. Thus, you must also look at your local literature as something that aims to
be analyzed further to discover the identity of the natives or colonies. There is a “Filipino-ness”
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7KHUHLVVRPXFKPRUHWREHGLVFRYHUHGWKURXJKWKHOLWHUDWXUHRI(DVW$VLDDQGWKLVPRGXOH
is only the beginning of a very rich experience for you.
Module
12 Exploring South Asia and Western Asia
1. Infer literary meaning from literal language based on usage.
2. Compare and contrast the various 21st century literary genres and their elements,
3. ,GHQWLI\WKH¿JXUHVRIVSHHFKDQGRWKHUOLWHUDU\WHFKQLTXHVDQGGHYLFHVLQWKHWH[WV
 Explain the texts in terms of literary elements, genres, and traditions.
All about Western and Southwest Asia

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this module, you will get to know another fascinating part of Before talking about
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history, politics, and even religion
is also called the Middle East and is home to the three great are discussed first. This stems from
monotheistic religions: Islam, Christianity, and Judaism. To literature being interconnected
be precise, Judaism was actually founded in the eastern part with society, history, and culture.
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of economic growth in the area is due to petroleum, for almost 60 percent of the world’s reserves
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happening to these regions?
An Introduction to Marxism
Have you ever wondered why some people are rich and Big Idea
some are poor? Or why some people are so rich that they can Belonging to a certain class
buy islands and malls, and why some people are so poor that affects how you are treated in
society. But ideally, it should not be
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questions such as these. The founder of the critical concept, from a rich or middle-class family,
Karl Marx, wanted to understand how the capitalist society you should treat everyone equally
works (for whom does it truly work better and worse for) and and fairly.
where it would likely lead. For Marx, he saw the struggle of the

two classes in society: (1) the capitalists or owners of the resource-producing companies and (2)
the workers or proletariat, who work to produce and, thus, survive. This is where Marxism comes
from: it is the analysis of the relationship between these two classes and their struggles with each
other.
One of the key terms in Marxism is the concept of alienation. Alienation is looking at the
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the workers in a capitalist society do not own the materials with which they produce and, thus, are
owned by the capitalists who force the workers to sell their “labor power,” or their ability to work,
for money or wages.
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he or she has no part in the decision-making process of what to do and how to do it. This is because
the capitalist sets all the rules and conditions for the proletariat to work in; the capitalist may
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the product itself, because the worker will almost never have the opportunity to experience or
use the product that they have produced by themselves, because it is only produced for the ruling
capitalist society. Third, because of the excessive demands of mass production and labor, the
worker is alienated from society and other humans. The conditions in a capitalist society force the
ZRUNHUWRFRPSHWHDQGEHLQGLɣHUHQWWRRWKHUKXPDQEHLQJVDVWKHZRUNHUWULHVWRVXUYLYHDQG
thrive in the capitalist’s conditions. Fourth, the worker is alienated from the need of the human
being for creativity and community that is to be shared with other human beings. Instead, the
worker is faced with production day in and day out and cannot be free to develop his or her own
creativity anymore. Thus, the worker is not allowed to feel and experience being part of the human
ecosystem.
When the individual is alienated, he or she becomes diminished and weakened. There is
something missing, and the proletariat does not feel whole anymore.
Reflect Upon
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experience.
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:KDWKDSSHQVLVWKDW¿UVWWKHZRUNHULVDOLHQDWHGIURPWKHSURGXFWLYHSURFHVVLWVHOIEHFDXVH
he or she has no part in the decision-making process of what to do and how to do it. This is because
the capitalist sets all the rules and conditions for the proletariat to work in; the capitalist may
HYHQKLUHRU ¿UHWKH ZRUNHUDWZLOO RUE\ FHUWDLQUHDVRQV6HFRQG WKHZRUNHULV DOLHQDWHGIURP
the product itself, because the worker will almost never have the opportunity to experience or
use the product that they have produced by themselves, because it is only produced for the ruling
capitalist society. Third, because of the excessive demands of mass production and labor, the
worker is alienated from society and other humans. The conditions in a capitalist society force the
ZRUNHUWRFRPSHWHDQGEHLQGLɣHUHQWWRRWKHUKXPDQEHLQJVDVWKHZRUNHUWULHVWRVXUYLYHDQG
thrive in the capitalist’s conditions. Fourth, the worker is alienated from the need of the human
being for creativity and community that is to be shared with other human beings. Instead, the
worker is faced with production day in and day out and cannot be free to develop his or her own
creativity anymore. Thus, the worker is not allowed to feel and experience being part of the human
ecosystem.
When the individual is alienated, he or she becomes diminished and weakened. There is
something missing, and the proletariat does not feel whole anymore.
1. How can Marxism be applied in analyzing literary text?
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The following selections may be analyzed using the concept of “alienation” in Marxism. Read
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Fig. 12.1. Arundhati Roy, on the cover of Elle Magazine

Source: ŚƩƉ͗ͬͬǁǁǁ͘ĨĂŵŽƵƐĮǆ͘ĐŽŵͬ ƚŽƉŝĐͬĞůůĞͲ
ŵĂŐĂǌŝŶĞͲŝŶĚŝĂͲũƵůǇͲϮϬϭϲ
$UXQGKDWL5R\LVDQ,QGLDQDXWKRUDFWUHVVDQGSROLWLFDODFWLYLVWNQRZQIRUKHUQRYHOThe God
of Small ThingsZKLFKUHFHLYHGLQWHUQDWLRQDODFFODLPDQGZRQ WKH0DQ%RRNHU3UL]HIRU
)LFWLRQ6KHDOVRZURWHDQGFRVWDUUHGLQWKH¿OPIn Which Annie Gives It to Those Ones and was
WKHVFULSWZULWHUIRUWKH¿OPElectric MoonDVZHOODVPDQ\WHOHYLVLRQGUDPV6KHIRFXVHGKHUODWHU
ZRUN RQ SROLWLFDOO\ RULHQWHG QRQ¿FWLRQ SXEOLFDWLRQV 7KHVH SXEOLFDWLRQV LQFOXGH Power Politics
(2001), 7KH $OJHEUD RI ,Q¿QLWH -XVWLFH (2002), War Talk (2003), Public Power in the Age of
EmpireField Notes on Democracy: Listening to GrasshoppersBroken Republic:
Three Essays (2011), and Capitalism: A Ghost Story$IWHU\HDUVVKHSXEOLVKHGThe
Ministry of Utmost Happiness, her newest novel since The God of Small Things. Read an excerpt
of her novel here.
An Excerpt from The Ministry of Utmost Happiness

By Arundhati Roy
1.
Where do old birds go to die?
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and exited from the story.
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to read the insults scratched into her bark. When people called her names—clown without a circus,
queen without a palace—she let the hurt blow through her branches like a breeze and used the
music of her rustling leaves as balm to ease the pain.
Reflect Upon
Have you ever called people names? Or have you ever been called names by your classmates
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It was only after Ziauddin, the blind imam who had once led the prayers in the Fatehpuri
Masjid, befriended her and began to visit her that the neighbourhood decided it was time to leave
her in peace.
Long ago a man who knew English told her that her name written backwards (in English)
spelled Majnu. In the English version of the story of Laila and Majnu, he said, Majnu was called
5RPHRDQG/DLODZDV-XOLHW6KHIRXQGWKDWKLODULRXVµ<RXPHDQ,¶YHPDGHDkhichdi of their
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was really Juli?’ The next time he saw her, the Man Who Knew English said he’d made a mistake.
Her name spelled backwards would be Mujna, which wasn’t a name and meant nothing at all.
To this she said, ‘It doesn’t matter. I’m all of them, I’m Romi and Juli, I’m Laila and Majnu. And
0XMQDZK\QRW":KRVD\VP\QDPHLV$QMXP",¶PQRW$QMXP,¶P$QMXPDQ,¶PDPHK¿OI’m a
gathering. Of everybody and nobody, of everything and nothing. Is there anyone else you would
like to invite? Everyone’s invited.’
1. What Indian words did you encounter in the story? Based on how these words are used in
the story, what do these words mean?
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words online.
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The Man Who Knew English said it was clever of her to come up with that one. He said he’d
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d’you think? English makes you clever automatically?’
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government hospital. For company she had her steel Godrej almirah in which she kept her music—
scratched records and tapes—an old harmonium, her clothes, jewellery, her father’s poetry books,
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threadbare Persian carpet that she locked up in the day and unrolled between two graves at night
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One morning, while she read the newspaper aloud to him, the old imam, who clearly hadn’t
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not cremated?’
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µ6DFK.KXGDKDL .KXGDKL6DFK KDL.’ Truth is God. God is Truth. The sort of wisdom that was
available on the backs of the painted trucks that roared down the highways. Then he narrowed his
blindgreen eyes and asked in a slygreen whisper: ‘Tell me, you people, when you die, where do they
bury you? Who bathes the bodies? Who says the prayers?’
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sunset, or moonrise during Ramzaan – what goes through your mind?’
Having wounded each other thus, deeply, almost mortally, the two sat quietly side by side on
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fall on us like stones from the sky? Do we stumble on their bodies in the streets? Do you not think
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us away?’
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his way through the graves, his seeing-eye cane making music as it encountered the empty booze
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cruelty.
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its dreams and its secrets were not hers alone to betray.
2.
Khwabgah
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in her mother’s arms wrapped in two shawls, said, ‘It’s a boy.’ Given the circumstances, her error
was understandable.
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The next morning, when the sun was up and the room nice and warm, she unswaddled little
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delight. That was when she discovered, nestling underneath his boy-parts, a small, unformed, but
undoubtedly girl-part.
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reaction was to feel her heart constrict and her bones turn to ash. Her second reaction was to take
another look to make sure she was not mistaken. Her third reaction was to recoil from what she
had created while her bowels convulsed and a thin stream of shit ran down her legs. Her fourth
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up and hold him close while she fell through a crack between the world she knew and worlds
she did not know existed. There, in the abyss, spinning through the darkness, everything she had
been sure of until then, every single thing, from the smallest Big Idea
to the biggest, ceased to make sense to her. In Urdu, the only In English, the case of Jahanara
language she knew, all things, not just living things but all Begum’s child also has two words:
things – carpets, clothes, books, pens, musical instruments— intersex and hermaphrodite.
had a gender. Everything was either masculine or feminine,
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him—Hijra. Two words actually, Hijra and Kinnar. But two words do not make a language.
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in words, or as a single lucid sentence. It addressed itself to her as a soundless, embryonic howl.
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Christians did, after he had made Heaven and Earth. Except that in his case he rested after making
sense of the world he had created, whereas Jahanara Begum rested after what she created had
scrambled her sense of the world.
It wasn’t a real vagina after all, she told herself. Its passages were not open (she checked). It
ZDVMXVWDQDSSHQGDJHDEDE\WKLQJ3HUKDSVLWZRXOGFORVHRUKHDORUJRDZD\VRPHKRZ6KH
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+HZRXOG$QGPD\EH+HGLGLQZD\VVKHGLGQRWIXOO\FRPSUHKHQG
1. Based on the excerpt, what form of “alienation” is the story trying to convey?
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
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2. What religions are present in the story, and how are these portrayed? What do you think is
the role of religion in the narrative?
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
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and short story writer who explored the themes of female sexuality and freedom. Later on, she has
gained more respect for her works.
Source: https://feminisminindia.com/wp-content/uploads/ 2017/03/kamala-das.jpg
:LWK\RXUFODVVPDWHVSHUIRUPDGUDPDWLFUHDGLQJRIWKHSRHP³$Q,QWURGXFWLRQ´E\.DPDOD
Das. Go to http://www.poemhunter.com/best-poems/kamala-das/an-introduction-2/. Take
turns in reading the lines of the poem with proper intonation, pronunciation, and action. Later
on, you can have an interpretative reading of the poem that you can choreograph together.
Reflect Upon
How is alienation depicted in the poem? In what ways does the persona of the poem
respond to these instances of alienation that Kamalas Das cited?
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Track: Arts and Design

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Here are some links to get you started in on reading their works:
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(QOLVFK7UDQVODWHVLQGH[3B1DGHULB3RHPVKWPO
• Kamala Das on PoemHunter (http://www.poemhunter.com/kamala-das/)
 ³/LVWRI3RHPV´RQ7KH,QGLDQ3RHWKWWSWKHLQGLDQSRHWFRP"SDJHBLG 
Essential Learning
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kinds of “alienation” present in their literature and culture. This is because alienation is present
as a result of the class struggle of the capitalist and the worker in society, or the dominant
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Module
13 Delving Deep into the Anglo-American Frontier
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 Explain the biographical, linguistic, and sociocultural contexts. How they enhance
the text’s meaning and enrich my understanding.
Anglo-Saxon Literature
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read excerpts from “Beowulf,” one of the oldest epic poetry Oral tradition is an early form
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generation to the next. This is
refresh your memory. rooted on our love for telling and
listening to stories.
“Beowulf” is a Germanic epic that details the adventures
of its lead character (Beowulf as the “chief” of his kingdom)
as he fearlessly kills a monster that was terrorizing his kingdom. It is one of the longest and most
important poems in Old English. “Beowulf” started through the oral tradition, the transmission
of a tale from one person to another through storytelling. It is a widely known pagan tale, but was
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example of a heroic epic, sourced from pre-Christian myth and custom. The other is the Christian
epic. It is sad to say that Old English poetry is known to be compiled in only four books and
most probably, the best of these poems are lost to history forever. However, the important Old
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tradition tells a lot about the history of Germanic society.
Old English Christian poetry, by contrast, is simplistic, for it is marked by innocent Christian
belief. There are two names that are prominent during this period (or these two names are the only
ones whose works were preserved): (1) Cædmon, one of the earliest known English poet whose
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of using the visions of a dream in poetry, is suggested to have been written by either Cædmon or
Cynewulf.
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of unstressed syllables. It is broken by a caesuraDEUHDNLQWKHÀRZRIVRXQGDQGLVDUUDQJHG
in independent patterns. It is also quite common for these poems to end unrhymed. Its common
form is narrative, for there was no such thing as lyric poetry back then.
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we know now.
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then?
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An Introduction to New Criticism

Do you still remember Russian formalism from Module Big Idea
11? Talk with your seatmate about what it is and what you New criticism can be used not
only in literature but also in other
remember about that particular literary concept.
art forms. This is true as long as the
The next introduction of a literary theory that you will be focus is no longer on the artist and
the context under which the art
learning about is closely related to formalism. This is called was made but its relevance in the
new criticism. New criticism is a literary concept that places now.
the emphasis on “close reading” of the work or text itself.
The rejection of old historicism’s attention to context and
background is a way to look at the literary selection as to “how it works.” The way a piece works may
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LWVDXWKRUDQGZKHQZKHUHDQGZK\LWZDVZULWWHQ1HZFULWLFLVPKDVEHHQWKHPRVWFRPPRQ
approach to explicating literary selections in grade school and high school English subjects.

Reflect Upon
Why is it no longer necessary to know the author and when, where, or why a work was
written?
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How then is new criticism related to formalism? These Big Idea

two literary theories examine closely how the text’s ideas may In analyzing a text through
interrelate with its form—what does the text say and how does new criticism, you can focus on
LWVD\LW"1HZFULWLFLVPLVVRPHWLPHVNQRZQWREHD³VFLHQFHRI three things: form, meaning, and
function.
literature,” for it looks at the technical aspects of the vocabulary
that is used in the selection, the sounds, imagery, narrative,
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KRZWKH\DɣHFWZKDWWKHWH[WLVVD\LQJ
How does this work in a literary selection? For example, say that you read a poem about love.
1HZFULWLFLVPORRNVDW WKLVSRHPDQGKRZ LWLVZULWWHQ²LWV LDPELFSHQWDPHWHUDQGUK\PLQJ
VFKHPHZKHWKHU6KDNHVSHDUHDQRU3HWUDUFKDQLQQDWXUH²DQGGLVFRYHUWKDWLWVJRDOLVH[SUHVVHG
in the subtlety and unity of the text itself. It does not achieve its meaningfulness from the author
and his or her intention. The meaning exists on the page itself.
:KDWWKHQLVWKHPDLQTXHVWLRQLQGRLQJDQHZFULWLFDOUHDGLQJ"$VN\RXUVHOI³+RZGRHVWKLV
SLHFHZRUN"´/RRNIRUKRZWKHWH[WFRPSOLFDWHVLWVHOI7KHQ\RX¿QGDXQLI\LQJLGHDRUWKHPHWKDW
may or may not resolve these complications.
*REDFNWR ³6HHLQJRɣD)ULHQG´ E\/L%DL$SSO\ QHZFULWLFLVPLQ DQDO\]LQJWKLVSRHP

:ULWHDZRUGDQDO\VLV
The following poems and short stories may be looked at using the critical lenses of new
FULWLFLVP<RXZLOOVWDUWZLWKWKHROGHVWVXUYLYLQJSRHPEHORZZULWWHQLQ2OG(QJOLVKDQGIROORZHG
by Ben Johnson’s work:
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Hymn,” was composed after he had a dream. Later on, he became a monk and an inspirational
poet.
Fig. 13.1. Cædmon
Source: https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/
b9/32/7b/b9327ba4b46d60014c993bca12d69553.jpg
Caedmon’s Hymn (Modern English Version)

By Caedmon
1RZOHWPHSUDLVHWKHNHHSHURI+HDYHQ¶VNLQJGRP
The might of the Creator, and his thought,
The work of the Father of glory, how each of wonders
The Eternal Lord established in the beginning.
+H¿UVWFUHDWHGIRUWKHVRQVRIPHQ
Heaven as a roof, the holy Creator,
Then Middle-earth the keeper of mankind,
The Eternal Lord, afterwards made,
7KHHDUWKIRUPHQWKH$OPLJKW\/RUG
Source: http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/caedmon-s-hymn/
Reflect Upon
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what the poem intends you to feel? Why or why not?
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How does new criticism help you understand a literary selection such as “Caedmon’s
Hymn”? What does using the theoretical framework of new criticism say about such a poem?
Fig. 13.2. Ben Jonson

Source: http://torontomasquetheatre.
com/node/43
Ben Jonson, also known as Benjamin Jonson, was an English playwright, poet, and literary
critic of the 17th century. He is best known for his popularization of the comedy of humors and his
lyric poetry.
An Elegy
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Though beauty be the mark of praise,

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$VQRWWKHZRUOGFDQSUDLVHWRRPXFK
<HW¶WLV\RXUYLUWXHQRZ,UDLVH
$YLUWXHOLNHDOOD\VRJRQH
Throughout your form, as, though that move
$QGGUDZDQGFRQTXHUDOOPHQ¶VORYH
This sùbjects you to love of one.
Wherein you triumph yet; because

’Tis of yourself, and that you use
The noblest freedom, not to choose
$JDLQVWRUIDLWKRUKRQRU¶VODZV
But who should less expect from you,
In whom alone Love lives again?
By whom he is restored to men,
$QGNHSWDQGEUHGDQGEURXJKWXSWUXH
His falling temples you have reared,
The withered garlands ta’en away;
His altars kept from the decay
That envy wished, and nature feared;
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With so much loyalties’ expense,
$V/RYHW¶DFTXLWVXFKH[FHOOHQFH
Is gone himself into your name.
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To whom all lovers are designed
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$PRQJZKLFKIDLWKIXOWURRSDP,
:KRDVDQRɣVSULQJDW\RXUVKULQH
Have sung this hymn, and here entreat
One spark of your diviner heat
To light upon a love of mine.
Which, if it kindle not, but scant

$SSHDUDQGWKDWWRVKRUWHVWYLHZ
<HWJLYHPHOHDYHW¶DGRUHLQ\RX
What I in her am grieved to want.
Source: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/50676/an-elegy
Reflect Upon
Can you interpret the poem without knowing who it was written for? Why or why not?
How does its unique language help or confuse your interpretation of the poem?
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What is the central message of Ben Jonson’s poem? How do its form, language, and content
operate its central message?
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Fig. 13.3. Edgar Allan Poe

Source: http://www.brainpickings.org/wp-content/
uploads/2013/09/edgarallanpoe.jpg
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The Tell-Tale Heart

By Edgar Allan Poe
TRUE!—nervous—very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why will you say
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all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard
many things in hell. How, then, am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily—how calmly
I can tell you the whole story.
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me day and night. Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved the old man. He had
never wronged me. He had never given me insult. For his gold I had no desire. I think it was his
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it fell upon me, my blood ran cold; and so by degrees—very gradually—I made up my mind to
take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye forever.
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with what dissimulation I went to work! I was never kinder to the old man than during the
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head, I put in a dark lantern, all closed, closed, that no light shone out, and then I thrust in my
head. Oh, you would have laughed to see how cunningly I thrust it in! I moved it slowly—very,
very slowly, so that I might not disturb the old man’s sleep. It took me an hour to place my
whole head within the opening so far that I could see him as he lay upon his bed. Ha! would
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the lantern cautiously-oh, so cautiously—cautiously (for the hinges creaked)—I undid it just so
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night just at midnight—but I found the eye always closed; and so it was impossible to do the
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the day broke, I went boldly into the chamber, and spoke courageously to him, calling him by
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been a very profound old man, indeed, to suspect that every night, just at twelve, I looked in
upon him while he slept.
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of my own powers—of my sagacity. I could scarcely contain my feelings of triumph. To think
that there I was, opening the door, little by little, and he not even to dream of my secret deeds
or thoughts. I fairly chuckled at the idea; and perhaps he heard me; for he moved on the bed
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pitch with the thick darkness, (for the shutters were close fastened, through fear of robbers,)
and so I knew that he could not see the opening of the door, and I kept pushing it on steadily,
steadily.
I had my head in, and was about to open the lantern, when my thumb slipped upon the tin
fastening, and the old man sprang up in bed, crying out— “Who’s there?”
I kept quite still and said nothing. For a whole hour I did not move a muscle, and in the
meantime I did not hear him lie down. He was still sitting up in the bed listening;—just as I
have done, night after night, hearkening to the death watches in the wall.
Presently I heard a slight groan, and I knew it was the groan of mortal terror. It was not a
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soul when overcharged with awe. I knew the sound well. Many a night, just at midnight, when
all the world slept, it has welled up from my own bosom, deepening, with its dreadful echo, the
terrors that distracted me. I say I knew it well. I knew what the old man felt, and pitied him,
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noise, when he had turned in the bed. His fears had been ever since growing upon him. He
had been trying to fancy them causeless, but could not. He had been saying to himself—“It is
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heard—to feel the presence of my head within the room.
When I had waited a long time, very patiently, without hearing him lie down, I resolved to
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stealthily, stealthily—until, at length a simple dim ray, like the thread of the spider, shot from
out the crevice and fell full upon the vulture eye.
It was open—wide, wide open—and I grew furious as I gazed upon it. I saw it with perfect
distinctness—all a dull blue, with a hideous veil over it that chilled the very marrow in my
bones; but I could see nothing else of the old man’s face or person: for I had directed the ray as
if by instinct, precisely upon the damned spot.
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sense?—now, I say, there came to my ears a low, dull, quick sound, such as a watch makes
when enveloped in cotton. I knew that sound well, too. It was the beating of the old man’s
heart. It increased my fury, as the beating of a drum stimulates the soldier into courage.
But even yet I refrained and kept still. I scarcely breathed. I held the lantern motionless.
I tried how steadily I could maintain the ray upon the eve. Meantime the hellish tattoo of the
heart increased. It grew quicker and quicker, and louder and louder every instant. The old man’s
terror must have been extreme! It grew louder, I say, louder every moment!—do you mark me
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the dreadful silence of that old house, so strange a noise as this excited me to uncontrollable
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heard by a neighbor! The old man’s hour had come! With a loud yell, I threw open the lantern
and leaped into the room. He shrieked once—once only. In an instant I dragged him to the
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and held it there many minutes. There was no pulsation. He was stone dead. His eve would
trouble me no more.
Reflect Upon
What are the motivations behind the protagonist’s actions? Do these justify his
crime? Why or why not?
____________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________
If still you think me mad, you will think so no longer when I describe the wise precautions
I took for the concealment of the body. The night waned, and I worked hastily, but in silence.
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the scantlings. I then replaced the boards so cleverly, so cunningly, that no human eye—not
even his—could have detected anything wrong. There was nothing to wash out—no stain of
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bell sounded the hour, there came a knocking at the street door. I went down to open it with a
light heart,—for what had I now to fear? There entered three men, who introduced themselves,
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the night; suspicion of foul play had been aroused; information had been lodged at the police
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I smiled,—for what had I to fear? I bade the gentlemen welcome. The shriek, I said, was
my own in a dream. The old man, I mentioned, was absent in the country. I took my visitors all
over the house. I bade them search—search well. I led them, at length, to his chamber. I showed
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into the room, and desired them here to rest from their fatigues, while I myself, in the wild
audacity of my perfect triumph, placed my own seat upon the very spot beneath which reposed
the corpse of the victim.
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sat, and while I answered cheerily, they chatted of familiar things. But, ere long, I felt myself
getting pale and wished them gone. My head ached, and I fancied a ringing in my ears: but still
they sat and still chatted. The ringing became more distinct:—It continued and became more
GLVWLQFW,WDONHGPRUHIUHHO\WRJHWULGRIWKHIHHOLQJEXWLWFRQWLQXHGDQGJDLQHGGH¿QLWHQHVV²
until, at length, I found that the noise was not within my ears.
Reflect Upon
What do you think is the message of this short story? How does it use symbols,
imagery, and narrative in letting you understand its message?
____________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________
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heard it not. I talked more quickly—more vehemently; but the noise steadily increased. I arose
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if excited to fury by the observations of the men—but the noise steadily increased. Oh God!
what could I do? I foamed—I raved—I swore! I swung the chair upon which I had been sitting,
and grated it upon the boards, but the noise arose over all and continually increased. It grew
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making a mockery of my horror! this I thought, and this I think. But anything was better than
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smiles no longer! I felt that I must scream or die! and now—again!—hark! louder! louder!
louder! louder!
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here!—It is the beating of his hideous heart!”
Source: http://xroads.virginia.edu/~hyper/POE/telltale.html
Guide Question:
What words would you use to describe the story’s protagonist?
_______________________________________________________________
_______________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
How would a critic read “The Tell-Tale Heart” from a formalist lens and through new
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“The Tell-Tale Heart”

Formalism 1HZ&ULWLFLVP
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Canons

Title $XWKRU 6\QRSVLV -XVWL¿FDWLRQ
Canons
Contemporary
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you to further understand this theory.
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of how new criticism is used in the analysis of a literary selection:
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how the particular literary selections presented in this module may be analyzed using new
criticism. Furthermore, you will also share what you have discovered using these critical
lenses as bases for analysis. Once you are done, you may share what you have discussed
with the rest of the class.
Essential Learning
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gave birth to two kinds of literature back then: epic pagan poems and Christian literature.
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Their literature shows how much of their culture the Filipinos have assimilated as their own,
including their own sensibilities, beliefs, practices, and values, to name a few.
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is related to formalism for they both look at how the text works, without delving into the author
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literature, and you may have experienced being indirectly taught new criticism when you
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Oftentimes, you solve your problems on your own without consulting an adult—you do this by
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informed decision on how to operate it.
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the way for most of the traditions and innovations that you enjoy now as a student of literature.

Module
14 Traversing Europe and Its Intricacies
1. Identify representative texts and authors from Europe.
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3. Explore the concept of romanticism.
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European Literature
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literary world.
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existentialism) and Germany (weltliteratur). Of course, one of the most famous English writers
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his unique standards and mastery of his language.
Do you remember reading 5RPHRDQG-XOLHW before? Try answering these questions about the
story with your seatmate:
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b. What is one of the tragic themes of the play?
c. Why do you think the play is still highly regarded even if it was written centuries ago?
Write down your answers on a piece of paper. Then compare and contrast your answers
afterward through a chart. What do you and your seatmate agree or disagree on? Why is that so?
When you’re done, share this with the rest of the class.
“Romeo and Juliet” is an interesting literary selection because it sets the kind of romance
that is popular today among many demographics. It also warns against universal follies such as
hastiness and impulsiveness, which are problems that society still faces today.
Romanticism
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half a century before it was quickly replaced by modernism. What is it all about? Romanticism
emphasizes the emotions and imagination within the human being. It was a movement that
responded against the disillusionment of the Enlightenment values of reason after the French
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Reflect Upon
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life? Do you think this is healthy or not? Explain.
_______________________________________________________________
_______________________________________________________________
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also believed in the liberty of a person’s ideas. Freedom is
Romanticism presents humans
emphasized to a degree so that a person may be free enough to as free entities who can make their
explore his or her own emotions and the tenets of imagination. own decisions without the influence
Due to this, it is also characteristic of romanticism to be quite of their environments.
egocentric, because the person has to look at his or her own
emotions before looking at the world. Moreover, romanticism places an emphasis on individualism:
the person must think on his or her own to support his or her personal liberalism. The emphasis
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may enlighten a person as to what an individual is feeling, so that he or she may better respond to
the world around him or her.
What truly sets romanticism as a global literary movement was the appreciation for medieval
romance, from where romanticism borrows its name. The idea of a heroic individual and the
mysterious and thrilling adventures he goes through to win the maiden of his dreams was a sharp
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poems. The sudden interest in the overly emotional literary expressions in the past became the key
note from which romanticism was derived from.
In English literature, romanticism started with the famous lyrical ballads RI ERWK 6DPXHO
Taylor Coleridge and William Wordsworth. Wordsworth has even described the kind of poetry that
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Kingdom. It caught on quite quickly when Germany started innovating content and literary style
by celebrating the bizarre, the mysterious, the mystical, the supernatural, and the subconscious.
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was shared with cultural naturalism and native origins—folklore, folk ballads, poetry, folk dance,
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to have invented the historical novel), while English poetry had begun to catapult into absolute
URPDQWLFFRQVFLRXVQHVVZLWKSRHWVVXFKDV-RKQ.HDWVDQG3HUF\%\VVKH6KHOOH\2QHZRUNWKDW
ZDVDSURGXFWRIWKLVPRYHPHQWZDV0DU\6KHOOH\¶VQRYHOFrankenstein.
$V URPDQWLFLVP VSUHDG WR RWKHU SDUWV RI (XURSH LW VWDUWHG WR EHFRPH PRUH VSHFL¿F LQ LWV
approach and invested a concentration on exploring the nation’s historical and cultural importance
and the struggles of the individuals behind these.

1. What is romanticism? How can you use romanticism to analyze a literary text? How has
(XURSHLQÀXHQFHGZRUOGOLWHUDWXUH"
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2. How is romanticism used to analyze a particular literary text?
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The following literary selections may be analyzed using romanticism. Read them carefully and
try to look at them using the lenses of the critical theory:
Fig. 14.1. François-Marie Arouet (Voltaire)

Source: https://www.researchgate.net/figure/Francois-Marie-Arouet-Vol-
taire-1694-1778_fig2_308201164
)UDQoRLV0DULH$URXHWPRUHSRSXODUO\NQRZQE\KLVSHQQDPH9ROWDLUHZDVD ZULWHUZKR
wrote under the French Enlightenment. He was also a historian, a witty philosopher who attacked
the Catholic Church, and an advocate of the freedom of religion, expression, and separation of the
church from the state. He produced works in various literary forms—poems, plays, novels, essays,
and so much more. Because of his outspokenness, he was often put into censorship at that time.
Candide
By Voltaire
&KDSWHU2QH³+RZ&DQGLGH:DV%URXJKW8SLQD0DJQL¿FHQW&DVWOH
and How He Was Driven Thence”
In the country of Westphalia, in the castle of the most noble Baron of Thunder-ten-tronckh,
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LQGH[RIKLVPLQG+HKDGDVROLGMXGJPHQWMRLQHGWRWKHPRVWXQDɣHFWHGVLPSOLFLW\DQGKHQFH
I presume, he had his name of Candide. The old servants of the house suspected him to have
been the son of the Baron’s sister, by a very good sort of a gentleman of the neighborhood, whom
that young lady refused to marry, because he could produce no more than threescore and eleven
quarterings in his arms; the rest of the genealogical tree belonging to the family having been lost
through the injuries of time.
The Baron was one of the most powerful lords in Westphalia, for his castle had not only a gate,
EXWHYHQZLQGRZVDQGKLVJUHDWKDOOZDVKXQJZLWKWDSHVWU\+HXVHGWRKXQWZLWKKLVPDVWLɣVDQG
spaniels instead of greyhounds; his groom served him for huntsman; and the parson of the parish
RɤFLDWHGDVKLVJUDQGDOPRQHU+HZDVFDOOHG³0\/RUG´E\DOOKLVSHRSOHDQGKHQHYHUWROGDVWRU\
but everyone laughed at it.
Reflect Upon
3UHGLFWZKDWKDSSHQVQH[WLQWKHVWRU\+RZGRWKH¿UVWIHZVHQWHQFHVJLYH\RXFOXHVDVWR
how the story will unfold?
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0\/DG\%DURQHVVZKRZHLJKHGWKUHHKXQGUHGDQG¿IW\SRXQGVFRQVHTXHQWO\ZDVDSHUVRQ
of no small consideration; and then she did the honors of the house with a dignity that commanded
universal respect. Her daughter was about seventeen years of age, fresh-colored, comely, plump,
and desirable. The Baron’s son seemed to be a youth in every respect worthy of the father he
sprung from. Pangloss, the preceptor, was the oracle of the family, and little Candide listened to
his instructions with all the simplicity natural to his age and disposition.
Master Pangloss taught the metaphysico-theologo-cosmolonigology. He could prove to
DGPLUDWLRQWKDW WKHUH LVQR HɣHFWZLWKRXW D FDXVHDQG WKDWLQ WKLV EHVWRI DOOSRVVLEOH ZRUOGV
WKH%DURQ¶VFDVWOH ZDVWKHPRVWPDJQL¿FHQW RIDOOFDVWOHVDQG 0\/DG\WKH EHVWRIDOOSRVVLEOH
baronesses.
“It is demonstrable,” said he, “that things cannot be otherwise than as they are; for as all
things have been created for some end, they must necessarily be created for the best end. Observe,
for instance, the nose is formed for spectacles, therefore we wear spectacles. The legs are visibly
GHVLJQHG IRU VWRFNLQJV DFFRUGLQJO\ ZH ZHDU VWRFNLQJV 6WRQHV ZHUH PDGH WR EH KHZQ DQG WR

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round: and they, who assert that everything is right, do not express themselves correctly; they
should say that everything is best.”
Reflect Upon
'R\RX¿QGDQ\WKLQJEL]DUUHLQWKHVWRU\":KDWPDNHVLWVWUDQJHWR\RX"
_______________________________________________________________
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Candide listened attentively and believed implicitly, for he thought Miss Cunegund excessively
handsome, though he never had the courage to tell her so. He concluded that next to the happiness
of being Baron of Thunder-ten-tronckh, the next was that of being Miss Cunegund, the next that
of seeing her every day, and the last that of hearing the doctrine of Master Pangloss, the greatest
philosopher of the whole province, and consequently of the whole world.
One day when Miss Cunegund went to take a walk in a little neighboring wood which was called
a park, she saw, through the bushes, the sage Doctor Pangloss giving a lecture in experimental
SKLORVRSK\WRKHUPRWKHU¶VFKDPEHUPDLGDOLWWOHEURZQZHQFKYHU\SUHWW\DQGYHU\WUDFWDEOH$V
Miss Cunegund had a great disposition for the sciences, she observed with the utmost attention
the experiments which were repeated before her eyes; she perfectly well understood the force of
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ZLWKWKHGHVLUHRINQRZOHGJHLPDJLQLQJWKDWVKHPLJKWEHDVXɤFLQJUHDVRQIRU\RXQJ&DQGLGH
and he for her.
On her way back she happened to meet the young man; she blushed, he blushed also; she
ZLVKHGKLPDJRRGPRUQLQJLQDÀDWWHULQJWRQHKHUHWXUQHGWKHVDOXWHZLWKRXWNQRZLQJZKDWKH
said. The next day, as they were rising from dinner, Cunegund and Candide slipped behind the
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of his hand, and he as innocently kissed hers with a warmth, a sensibility, a grace-all very particular;
their lips met; their eyes sparkled; their knees trembled; their hands strayed. The Baron chanced
WRFRPHE\KHEHKHOGWKHFDXVHDQGHɣHFWDQGZLWKRXWKHVLWDWLRQVDOXWHG&DQGLGHZLWKVRPH
notable kicks on the breech and drove him out of doors. The lovely Miss Cunegund fainted away,
and, as soon as she came to herself, the Baroness boxed her ears. Thus a general consternation was
VSUHDGRYHUWKLVPRVWPDJQL¿FHQWDQGPRVWDJUHHDEOHRIDOOSRVVLEOHFDVWOHV
Source: http://www.gutenberg.org/files/19942/19942-h/19942-h.htm#Page_1
Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm or more popularly known as the Brothers Grimm were German
writers, academics, cultural researchers, and linguists who collected and published folklore
GXULQJWKHWKFHQWXU\7RJHWKHUWKH\KDYHJDWKHUHGVRPHRIWKHEHVWNQRZQIRONWDOHVVXFKDV
“Cinderella,” “The Frog Prince,” “Hansel and Gretel,” “Rapunzel,” and even the “Little Red-Cap”
(also entitled “Little Red Riding Hood”).
Fig. 14.2. Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm
Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brothers_Grimm#/media/
File:Grimm.jpg
Little Red-Cap
By Brothers Grimm
Once upon a time there was a dear little girl who was loved by everyone who looked at her, but
most of all by her grandmother, and there was nothing that she would not have given to the child.
Once she gave her a little cap of red velvet, which suited her so well that she would never wear
DQ\WKLQJHOVH6RVKHZDVDOZD\VFDOOHGOLWWOHUHGFDS
One day her mother said to her, come, little red-cap, here is a piece of cake and a bottle of wine.
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DQGEUHDNWKHERWWOHDQGWKHQ\RXUJUDQGPRWKHUZLOOJHWQRWKLQJ$QGZKHQ\RXJRLQWRKHUURRP
don’t forget to say, good-morning, and don’t peep into every corner before you do it.
I will take great care, said little red-cap to her mother, and gave her hand on it.
Reflect Upon
Is the little red-cap an empowered child in the story? Why or why not?
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The grandmother lived out in the wood, half a league from the village, and just as little red-cap
entered the wood, a wolf met her. Red-cap did not know what a wicked creature he was, and was
not at all afraid of him.
“Good-day, little red-cap,” said he.
“Thank you kindly, wolf.”
“Whither away so early, little red-cap?”
“To my grandmother’s.”
“What have you got in your apron?”
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good, to make her stronger.”
“Where does your grandmother live, little red-cap?”
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The wolf thought to himself, what a tender young creature. What a nice plump mouthful, she
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VKRUWWLPHE\WKHVLGHRIOLWWOHUHGFDSDQGWKHQKHVDLG³VHHOLWWOHUHGFDSKRZSUHWW\WKHÀRZHUV
are about here. Why do you not look round. I believe, too, that you do not hear how sweetly the
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out here in the wood is merry.”
Little red-cap raised her eyes, and when she saw the sunbeams dancing here and there through
WKHWUHHVDQGSUHWW\ÀRZHUVJURZLQJHYHU\ZKHUHVKHWKRXJKWVXSSRVH,WDNHJUDQGPRWKHUDIUHVK
nosegay. That would please her too. It is so early in the day that I shall still get there in good time.
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one, she fancied that she saw a still prettier one farther on, and ran after it, and so got deeper and
deeper into the wood.
Meanwhile the wolf ran straight to the grandmother’s house and knocked at the door.
“Who is there?”
³/LWWOHUHGFDS´UHSOLHGWKHZROI³6KHLVEULQJLQJFDNHDQGZLQH2SHQWKHGRRU´
“Lift the latch,” called out the grandmother, “I am too weak, and cannot get up.”
The wolf lifted the latch, the door sprang open, and without saying a word he went straight to
the grandmother’s bed, and devoured her. Then he put on her clothes, dressed himself in her cap,
laid himself in bed and drew the curtains.
/LWWOHUHGFDSKRZHYHUKDGEHHQUXQQLQJDERXWSLFNLQJÀRZHUVDQGZKHQVKHKDGJDWKHUHG
so many that she could carry no more, she remembered her grandmother, and set out on the way
to her.
6KHZDVVXUSULVHGWR¿QGWKHFRWWDJHGRRUVWDQGLQJRSHQ Big Idea
and when she went into the room, she had such a strange
The wolf is usually portrayed
feeling that she said to herself, oh dear, how uneasy I feel to- in Western literature as someone
day, and at other times I like being with grandmother so much. big and bad. The wolf has thus
6KH FDOOHG RXW ³JRRG PRUQLQJ´ EXW UHFHLYHG QR DQVZHU 6R become an archetype, a frequently
used model to portray a certain
she went to the bed and drew back the curtains. There lay her type of character.
grandmother with her cap pulled far over her face, and looking
very strange.
“Oh, grandmother,” she said, “what big ears you have.”
“The better to hear you with, my child,” was the reply.
“But, grandmother, what big eyes you have,” she said.
“The better to see you with,” my dear.
“But, grandmother, what large hands you have.”
“The better to hug you with.”
“Oh, but, grandmother, what a terrible big mouth you have.”
“The better to eat you with.”
$QGVFDUFHO\KDGWKHZROIVDLGWKLVWKDQZLWKRQHERXQGKHZDVRXWRIEHGDQGVZDOORZHGXS
red-cap.
When the wolf had appeased his appetite, he lay down again in the bed, fell asleep and began
to snore very loud. The huntsman was just passing the house, and thought to himself, how the old
woman is snoring. I must just see if she wants anything.
6RKHZHQWLQWRWKHURRPDQGZKHQKHFDPHWRWKHEHGKHVDZWKDWWKHZROIZDVO\LQJLQLW
'R,¿QG\RXKHUH\RXROGVLQQHUVDLGKH,KDYHORQJVRXJKW\RX7KHQMXVWDVKHZDVJRLQJWR¿UH
at him, it occurred to him that the wolf might have devoured the grandmother, and that she might
VWLOOEHVDYHGVRKHGLGQRW¿UHEXWWRRNDSDLURIVFLVVRUVDQGEHJDQWRFXWRSHQWKHVWRPDFKRI
the sleeping wolf. When he had made two snips, he saw the little red-cap shining, and then he
made two snips more, and the little girl sprang out, crying, ah, how frightened I have been. How
GDUNLWZDVLQVLGHWKHZROI$QGDIWHUWKDWWKHDJHGJUDQGPRWKHUFDPHRXWDOLYHDOVREXWVFDUFHO\
DEOHWREUHDWKH5HGFDSKRZHYHUTXLFNO\IHWFKHGJUHDWVWRQHVZLWKZKLFKWKH\¿OOHGWKHZROI¶V
belly, and when he awoke, he wanted to run away, but the stones were so heavy that he collapsed
at once, and fell dead.
7KHQDOOWKUHHZHUHGHOLJKWHG7KHKXQWVPDQGUHZRɣWKHZROI¶VVNLQDQGZHQWKRPHZLWKLW
The grandmother ate the cake and drank the wine which red-cap had brought, and revived, but
red-cap thought to herself, as long as I live, I will never by myself leave the path, to run into the
wood, when my mother has forbidden me to do so.
It is also related that once when red-cap was again taking cakes to the old grandmother,
another wolf spoke to her, and tried to entice her from the path. Red-cap, however, was on her
guard, and went straight forward on her way, and told her grandmother that she had met the
wolf, and that he had said good-morning to her, but with such a wicked look in his eyes, that if
they had not been on the public road she was certain he would have eaten her up. Well, said the
JUDQGPRWKHUZHZLOOVKXWWKHGRRUWKDWKHPD\QRWFRPHLQ6RRQDIWHUZDUGVWKHZROINQRFNHG
and cried, open the door, grandmother, I am little red-cap, and am bringing you some cakes. But
they did not speak, or open the door, so the grey-beard stole twice or thrice round the house, and at
last jumped on the roof, intending to wait until red-cap went home in the evening, and then to steal
after her and devour her in the darkness. But the grandmother saw what was in his thoughts. In
front of the house was a great stone trough, so she said to the child, take the pail, red-cap. I made
some sausages yesterday, so carry the water in which I boiled them to the trough. Red-cap carried
XQWLOWKHJUHDWWURXJKZDVTXLWHIXOO7KHQWKHVPHOORIWKHVDXVDJHVUHDFKHGWKHZROIDQGKHVQLɣHG
and peeped down, and at last stretched out his neck so far that he could no longer keep his footing
and began to slip, and slipped down from the roof straight into the great trough, and was drowned.
But red-cap went joyously home, and no one ever did anything to harm her again.
Source: http://www.cs.cmu.edu/~spok/grimmtmp/020.txt

How does this particular folktale emulate romanticism? Does red-cap show her
individualism in the story? How so?
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
:LOOLDP6KDNHVSHDUH was an English poet, playwright, and

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widely regarded as the greatest writer in English and a premiere
dramatist who set the ground for so many plays to follow the
innovations he did for theater. His works vary from poems
PRVW SRSXODUO\ KLV 6KDNHVSHDUHDQ VRQQHWV HVVD\V DQG RI
course, plays. His works have been translated to almost every
language available in the world. The selection you are about to
read, A Midsummer Night’s Dream LV RQH RI 6KDNHVSHDUH¶V
most popular plays because of its comedic nature. It shows the
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DQG PLVDGYHQWXUHV RI $WKHQLDQ ORYHUV DQG DPDWHXU DFWRUV
who are being controlled by fairies of the forest. Fig. 14.2. William Shakespeare
Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/
William_Shakespeare#/media/
File:Shakespeare.jpg
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
$FW,6FHQH,
By Shakespeare
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7+(6(86
1RZIDLU+LSSRO\WDRXUQXSWLDOKRXU
Draws on apace; four happy days bring in
$QRWKHUPRRQEXW2PHWKLQNVKRZVORZ
This old moon wanes! she lingers my desires,
Like to a step-dame or a dowager
Long withering out a young man revenue.
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Four days will quickly steep themselves in night;
Four nights will quickly dream away the time;
$QGWKHQWKHPRRQOLNHWRDVLOYHUERZ
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Of our solemnities.
7+(6(86
Go, Philostrate,
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$ZDNHWKHSHUWDQGQLPEOHVSLULWRIPLUWK
Turn melancholy forth to funerals;
The pale companion is not for our pomp.
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Reflect Upon
How do you express your love for your family and friends? Have you ever been romantically
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and friends?
_______________________________________________________________
_______________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
Hippolyta, I woo’d thee with my sword,

$QGZRQWK\ORYHGRLQJWKHHLQMXULHV
But I will wed thee in another key,
With pomp, with triumph and with revelling.
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Happy be Theseus, our renowned duke!
7+(6(86
Thanks, good Egeus: what’s the news with thee?
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Full of vexation come I, with complaint
$JDLQVWP\FKLOGP\GDXJKWHU+HUPLD
6WDQGIRUWK'HPHWULXV0\QREOHORUG
This man hath my consent to marry her.
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This man hath bewitch’d the bosom of my child;
Thou, thou, Lysander, thou hast given her rhymes,
$QGLQWHUFKDQJHGORYHWRNHQVZLWKP\FKLOG

Thou hast by moonlight at her window sung,
With feigning voice verses of feigning love,
$QGVWROHQWKHLPSUHVVLRQRIKHUIDQWDV\
With bracelets of thy hair, rings, gawds, conceits,
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Of strong prevailment in unharden’d youth:
:LWKFXQQLQJKDVWWKRX¿OFK¶GP\GDXJKWHU¶VKHDUW
Turn’d her obedience, which is due to me,
To stubborn harshness: and, my gracious duke,
Be it so she; will not here before your grace
Consent to marry with Demetrius,
,EHJWKHDQFLHQWSULYLOHJHRI$WKHQV
$VVKHLVPLQH,PD\GLVSRVHRIKHU
Which shall be either to this gentleman
Or to her death, according to our law
Immediately provided in that case.
7+(6(86
What say you, Hermia? be advised fair maid:
To you your father should be as a god;
One that composed your beauties, yea, and one
To whom you are but as a form in wax
By him imprinted and within his power
7ROHDYHWKH¿JXUHRUGLV¿JXUHLW
Demetrius is a worthy gentleman.
+(50,$
6RLV/\VDQGHU
7+(6(86
In himself he is;
But in this kind, wanting your father’s voice,
The other must be held the worthier.
+(50,$
I would my father look’d but with my eyes.
7+(6(86
Rather your eyes must with his judgment look.
+(50,$
I do entreat your grace to pardon me.
I know not by what power I am made bold,
1RUKRZLWPD\FRQFHUQP\PRGHVW\
In such a presence here to plead my thoughts;
But I beseech your grace that I may know
The worst that may befall me in this case,
If I refuse to wed Demetrius.
7+(6(86
Either to die the death or to abjure
For ever the society of men.
Therefore, fair Hermia, question your desires;
Know of your youth, examine well your blood,
Whether, if you yield not to your father’s choice,
<RXFDQHQGXUHWKHOLYHU\RIDQXQ
For aye to be in shady cloister mew’d,
To live a barren sister all your life,
Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon.
Thrice-blessed they that master so their blood,
To undergo such maiden pilgrimage;
But earthlier happy is the rose distill’d,
Than that which withering on the virgin thorn
Grows, lives and dies in single blessedness.
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6RZLOO,JURZVROLYHVRGLHP\ORUG
Ere I will my virgin patent up
Unto his lordship, whose unwished yoke
My soul consents not to give sovereignty.
7+(6(86
Take time to pause; and, by the next new moon—
The sealing-day betwixt my love and me,
For everlasting bond of fellowship—
Upon that day either prepare to die
For disobedience to your father’s will,
Or else to wed Demetrius, as he would;
Or on Diana’s altar to protest
For aye austerity and single life.
'(0(75,86
Relent, sweet Hermia: and, Lysander, yield
Thy crazed title to my certain right.
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<RXKDYHKHUIDWKHU¶VORYH'HPHWULXV
Let me have Hermia’s: do you marry him.
(*(86
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$QGZKDWLVPLQHP\ORYHVKDOOUHQGHUKLP
$QGVKHLVPLQHDQGDOOP\ULJKWRIKHU
I do estate unto Demetrius.

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I am, my lord, as well derived as he,
$VZHOOSRVVHVV¶GP\ORYHLVPRUHWKDQKLV
My fortunes every way as fairly rank’d,
If not with vantage, as Demetrius’;
$QGZKLFKLVPRUHWKDQDOOWKHVHERDVWVFDQEH
I am beloved of beauteous Hermia:
Why should not I then prosecute my right?
Demetrius, I’ll avouch it to his head,
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$QGZRQKHUVRXODQGVKHVZHHWODG\GRWHV
Devoutly dotes, dotes in idolatry,
Upon this spotted and inconstant man.
7+(6(86
I must confess that I have heard so much,
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My mind did lose it. But, Demetrius, come;
$QGFRPH(JHXV\RXVKDOOJRZLWKPH
I have some private schooling for you both.
For you, fair Hermia, look you arm yourself
7R¿W\RXUIDQFLHVWR\RXUIDWKHU¶VZLOO
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Which by no means we may extenuate—
To death, or to a vow of single life.
Come, my Hippolyta: what cheer, my love?
Demetrius and Egeus, go along:
I must employ you in some business
$JDLQVWRXUQXSWLDODQGFRQIHUZLWK\RX
Of something nearly that concerns yourselves.
(*(86
With duty and desire we follow you.
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/<6$1'(5
How now, my love! why is your cheek so pale?
How chance the roses there do fade so fast?
+(50,$
Belike for want of rain, which I could well
Beteem them from the tempest of my eyes.
/<6$1'(5
$\PHIRUDXJKWWKDW,FRXOGHYHUUHDG
Could ever hear by tale or history,
The course of true love never did run smooth;
%XWHLWKHULWZDVGLɣHUHQWLQEORRG²
+(50,$
O cross! too high to be enthrall’d to low.
/<6$1'(5
2UHOVHPLVJUDɣHGLQUHVSHFWRI\HDUV²
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O spite! too old to be engaged to young.
/<6$1'(5
Or else it stood upon the choice of friends—
+(50,$
O hell! to choose love by another’s eyes.
/<6$1'(5
Or, if there were a sympathy in choice,
War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it,
Making it momentany as a sound,
6ZLIWDVDVKDGRZVKRUWDVDQ\GUHDP
Brief as the lightning in the collied night,
That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth,
$QGHUHDPDQKDWKSRZHUWRVD\µ%HKROG¶
The jaws of darkness do devour it up:
6RTXLFNEULJKWWKLQJVFRPHWRFRQIXVLRQ
+(50,$
If then true lovers have been ever cross’d,
It stands as an edict in destiny:
Then let us teach our trial patience,
Because it is a customary cross,
$VGXHWRORYHDVWKRXJKWVDQGGUHDPVDQGVLJKV
Wishes and tears, poor fancy’s followers.
/<6$1'(5
$JRRGSHUVXDVLRQWKHUHIRUHKHDUPH+HUPLD
I have a widow aunt, a dowager
Of great revenue, and she hath no child:
)URP$WKHQVLVKHUKRXVHUHPRWHVHYHQOHDJXHV
$QGVKHUHVSHFWVPHDVKHURQO\VRQ
There, gentle Hermia, may I marry thee;
$QGWRWKDWSODFHWKHVKDUS$WKHQLDQODZ
Cannot pursue us. If thou lovest me then,
6WHDOIRUWKWK\IDWKHU¶VKRXVHWRPRUURZQLJKW
$QGLQWKHZRRGDOHDJXHZLWKRXWWKHWRZQ
Where I did meet thee once with Helena,

To do observance to a morn of May,
There will I stay for thee.
+(50,$
My good Lysander!
I swear to thee, by Cupid’s strongest bow,
By his best arrow with the golden head,
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By that which knitteth souls and prospers loves,
$QGE\WKDW¿UHZKLFKEXUQ¶GWKH&DUWKDJHTXHHQ
When the false Troyan under sail was seen,
By all the vows that ever men have broke,
In number more than ever women spoke,
In that same place thou hast appointed me,
To-morrow truly will I meet with thee.
/<6$1'(5
Keep promise, love. Look, here comes Helena.
(QWHU+(/(1$
+(50,$
God speed fair Helena! whither away?
+(/(1$
Call you me fair? that fair again unsay.
Demetrius loves your fair: O happy fair!
<RXUH\HVDUHORGHVWDUVDQG\RXUWRQJXH¶VVZHHWDLU
More tuneable than lark to shepherd’s ear,
When wheat is green, when hawthorn buds appear.
6LFNQHVVLVFDWFKLQJ2ZHUHIDYRUVR
<RXUVZRXOG,FDWFKIDLU+HUPLDHUH,JR
My ear should catch your voice, my eye your eye,
My tongue should catch your tongue’s sweet melody.
Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated,
The rest I’d give to be to you translated.
O, teach me how you look, and with what art
<RXVZD\WKHPRWLRQRI'HPHWULXV¶KHDUW
+(50,$
I frown upon him, yet he loves me still.
+(/(1$
O that your frowns would teach my smiles such skill!
+(50,$
I give him curses, yet he gives me love.
+(/(1$
2WKDWP\SUD\HUVFRXOGVXFKDɣHFWLRQPRYH
+(50,$
The more I hate, the more he follows me.
+(/(1$
The more I love, the more he hateth me.
+(50,$
His folly, Helena, is no fault of mine.
+(/(1$
1RQHEXW\RXUEHDXW\ZRXOGWKDWIDXOWZHUHPLQH
+(50,$
Take comfort: he no more shall see my face;
/\VDQGHUDQGP\VHOIZLOOÀ\WKLVSODFH
Before the time I did Lysander see,
6HHP¶G$WKHQVDVDSDUDGLVHWRPH
O, then, what graces in my love do dwell,
That he hath turn’d a heaven unto a hell!
/<6$1'(5
Helen, to you our minds we will unfold:
To-morrow night, when Phoebe doth behold
Her silver visage in the watery glass,
Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass,
$WLPHWKDWORYHUV¶ÀLJKWVGRWKVWLOOFRQFHDO
7KURXJK$WKHQV¶JDWHVKDYHZHGHYLVHGWRVWHDO
+(50,$
$QGLQWKHZRRGZKHUHRIWHQ\RXDQG,
Upon faint primrose-beds were wont to lie,
Emptying our bosoms of their counsel sweet,
There my Lysander and myself shall meet;
$QGWKHQFHIURP$WKHQVWXUQDZD\RXUH\HV
To seek new friends and stranger companies.
Farewell, sweet playfellow: pray thou for us;
$QGJRRGOXFNJUDQWWKHHWK\'HPHWULXV
Keep word, Lysander: we must starve our sight
From lovers’ food till morrow deep midnight.
/<6$1'(5
I will, my Hermia.
([LW+(50,$

Helena, adieu:
$V\RXRQKLP'HPHWULXVGRWHRQ\RX
Exit
+(/(1$
How happy some o’er other some can be!
7KURXJK$WKHQV,DPWKRXJKWDVIDLUDVVKH
But what of that? Demetrius thinks not so;
He will not know what all but he do know:
$QGDVKHHUUVGRWLQJRQ+HUPLD¶VH\HV
6R,DGPLULQJRIKLVTXDOLWLHV
Things base and vile, folding no quantity,
Love can transpose to form and dignity:
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind;
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1RUKDWK/RYH¶VPLQGRIDQ\MXGJHPHQWWDVWH
:LQJVDQGQRH\HV¿JXUHXQKHHG\KDVWH
$QGWKHUHIRUHLV/RYHVDLGWREHDFKLOG
Because in choice he is so oft beguiled.
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6RWKHER\/RYHLVSHUMXUHGHYHU\ZKHUH
For ere Demetrius look’d on Hermia’s eyne,
He hail’d down oaths that he was only mine;
$QGZKHQWKLVKDLOVRPHKHDWIURP+HUPLDIHOW
6RKHGLVVROYHGDQGVKRZHUVRIRDWKVGLGPHOW
,ZLOOJRWHOOKLPRIIDLU+HUPLD¶VÀLJKW
Then to the wood will he to-morrow night
Pursue her; and for this intelligence
If I have thanks, it is a dear expense:
But herein mean I to enrich my pain,
To have his sight thither and back again.
Exit
Source: http://shakespeare.mit.edu/midsummer/full.html
,I \RX ¿QG WKLV YHUVLRQ RI A Midsummer Night’s Dream GLɤFXOW WR UHDG \RXPD\ XVH
the No Fear ShakespeareYHUVLRQRɣHUHGE\6SDUNQRWHVWRWUDQVODWH2OG(QJOLVKWR0RGHUQ
English:
http://nfs.sparknotes.com/msnd/.
Read the two versions side by side. Discuss with your seatmate which version you think is
better. List the merits and issues of the two versions. Together with your seatmate, decide on
which one you both prefer.
<RX DUH ZRUNLQJ LQ DQ (QJOLVK DQG FRPPXQLFDWLRQV FRQVXOWDQF\ ¿UP 3DUW RI \RXU
company’s corporate social responsibility project is to volunteer in conducting review sessions
to high school students for college entrance examinations. In one of your school visits, you
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speech is applied in literary text.
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examples, delivery, and visual presentation prepared.
There are so many sources of English literature online for you to explore. Here are some
Web links that you may use in the next activity:
• Grimm’s Fairy Tales, a complete list of the folktales of the Brothers Grimm (https://
www.cs.cmu.edu/~spok/grimmtmp/)
• Shakespeare’s SonnetsDFRPSLODWLRQRI6KDNHVSHDUH¶VVRQQHWVZLWKFRPPHQWDU\RQ
them (http://www.shakespeares-sonnets.com/)
Essential Learning
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standards you learn today in world literature, but it has also contributed to the pool of brilliant
writers who have shaped literature as it is now. It is not surprising why European literature has
DOZD\VEHHQVHHQDVFDQRQLFDORULPSRUWDQWLQWKHFRQWH[WRIJOREDOOLWHUDU\WUDɤF
Closely related to European literature is the concept of romanticism, which may be easily
applied to any literary text. It is interesting to note that despite its short existence as a literary
PRYHPHQWEDFNLQWKHVURPDQWLFLVPKDVSUHYDLOHGDVDSRSXODUFRQFHSWXSXQWLOQRZ
This is because the emphasis on the emotions, imagination, individualism, and freedom for a
human being will never go away. Romanticism also proves that the hunger for literature that
is nostalgic, bizarre, experimental, and innovative will always exist as long as humanity exists
itself.

Module
15 The Magic of Latin America
1. ,GHQWLI\UHSUHVHQWDWLYHWH[WVDQGDXWKRUVIURP/DWLQ$PHULFD
2. Understand literary meanings in context and the use of critical reading strategies.
3. $SSO\,&7VNLOOVLQFUDIWLQJDQDGDSWDWLRQRIDOLWHUDU\WH[W
 Distinguish the literary uses of language from the nonliterary and understand their
use as well as the formal features and conventions of literature.
Latin America and Its History

<RX KDYH SUREDEO\ HQMR\HG OLWHUDU\ VHOHFWLRQV WKDW KDYH Big Idea
PDJLFIDQWDV\DQGVXVSHQVLRQRIEHOLHI<RXPXVWEHDIDQRI Oftentimes, a significant life
VRPHRIWKHVHDQGRQHRIWKHROGHVWNLQGVRIPDJLFLQ¿FWLRQ event can be portrayed in creative
FRPHVIURP/DWLQ$PHULFD and imaginative ways. Magic
realism is an example of this.
Despite being shrouded by political instability and turmoil
IRUPXFKRIWKHWKFHQWXU\/DWLQ$PHULFDKDVSUHYDLOHGDV
DQLQÀXHQWLDODUHDIRUFXOWXUHKLVWRU\DQGFUHDWLYLW\
:KHQ WKH VWRFN PDUNHW FROODSVHG LQ  IROORZHG E\ WKH ZRUOGZLGH HFRQRPLF FULVLV WKLV
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independence or were integrated into the mother country as a result of World War II.
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$PHULFDQFRXQWULHV7KLVFKDQJHGLQWKHVZKHQGHPRFUDF\SUHYDLOHGHYHQWKURXJKRXWWKH
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7KHVHH[SHULHQFHVIDFHGE\/DWLQ$PHULFDQVKDYHDOVRVKRZQLQWKHLUOLWHUDWXUH7KHLUOLWHUDWXUH
is characterized by mysticism, magic, uniqueness, raw creativity, and wonder. It all started in the
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spread stories through the oral tradition. Their mythologies and religious practices or beliefs were
then recorded after the European colonizers arrived.
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there (one of them famously being Christopher Columbus and Bernal Diaz del Castillo) wrote
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debates, because they would detail the often cruel treatment of the natives, and not everyone in
Europe had agreed with it.
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idea of national identity and often focused on separating the indigenous from the colonizers. They
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that women were educated and their writings were published. One of these novels is entitled Sab
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that is romantic in nature but has subtle critiques of the treatment of women in Cuba.
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poet Ruben Dario’s work entitled Azul,WLVVDLGWREHWKH¿UVW/DWLQ$PHULFDQOLWHUDU\PRYHPHQW
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$PHULFDQ OLWHUDWXUH ,W LQWURGXFHG FULWLTXHV RI WKH VRFLHW\ DV RI WKH PRPHQW DQG WKH SOLJKW RI
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indigenismo—one which is dedicated to the fostering of indigenous cultures and the injustices
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techniques. The Mexican Revolution had inspired realist novels based on their experiences with
WKHZDU,WZRXOGRQO\EHLQWKHVZKHQDQRWKHUOLWHUDU\WHFKQLTXHZDV¿QDOO\IRUPHG²RQHWKDW
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the terminology lo real maravilloso (which literally means “marvelous realism”). It is believed that
this technique became the precursor for the concept of “magic realism.”
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$PHULFDDQGWKRVHIURPWKH3KLOLSSLQHV"
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Postmodernism
7KHLGHDRISRVWPRGHUQLVP¿UVWRULJLQDWHGLQDUFKLWHFWXUH Big Idea
Postmodernism simply rejected the modernist way of doing Notice how poststructuralism
things—trying to make things new or avant-garde. Modernism came after structuralism, and
has always been about rejecting tradition and trying to explore how modernism is followed by
postmodernism? This goes to
other ways of doing things to see “where no man has ever show that the scholarship in
gone before.” It is much associated with the novelty of doing literary theory is evolving because
something, to create something unique. Modernism explored people introduce new ways of
seeing things. Also, literature itself
possibilities and individuality. takes a different form, meaning,
Postmodernism was in contrast to this. It is a skeptical and function as time passes by.
interpretation of culture, art, history, architecture, and
literature. What does it mean to be “skeptical”? It means that there is always an air of critique and
emphasis on a certain work of art. Here, the postmodernist aims to look at the variety rather than
the ornamentation or novelty. It completely rejects its predecessor, modernism, on the basis that
it also rejects the idea of “totality,” “unity,” or being “comprehensive.”
,QWKHVWKH³OLWHUDWXUHRIVLOHQFH´DFFRUGLQJWR$UDE$PHULFDQVFKRODU,KDE+DVVDQKDV
EHJXQZLWKWKHZRUNVRI0DUTXLVGH6DGH)UDQ].DIND6DPXHO%HFNHWW(UQHVW+HPLQJZD\DQG
so much more. These works are known to focus on ontology, or the nature of being—the concept of
becoming, existing, living as a person. Postmodernism implores you to make something new that
moves beyond just the act or product itself; it asks you to exist and to become the art.
 :KDW DUH WKH GLɣHUHQFHV EHWZHHQ WKH RQWRORJLHV RI PRGHUQLVP DQG SRVWPRGHUQLVP"
&UHDWHDWDEOHDQGZULWH¿YHGLɣHUHQFHVLQLW
2. Can postmodernism be applied as a lens in analyzing all kinds of texts, or does it have to be
applied only on certain texts that have a postmodern theme? Defend your answer.
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'H 1XHYR /HRQ +LV Acheron: The River of Tragedy has been workshopped at the Lark Play
'HYHORSPHQW &HQWHU LQ 1HZ <RUN 9LOODQRYD LV WKH FRZULWHU RI WKH 1HWÀL[ VKRZ Ocean Blues,
which is based on his eponymous play. He currently also teaches theater history at the Universidad
GHOD&RPXQLFDFLyQLQ0H[LFR&LW\
Fig. 15.1. Xavier Villanova at the Iowa International Writing Program

Source: http://www.dilmandila.com/photography/portraits-of-
writers-iwp-2017
Excerpt from Nezahualcóyotl Dreams en Mictlán York

By Xavier Villanova
“By this Place of Fear / this huge void and these vast and silent realms, renew the life-
thread of Eurydice. / All things are due to you, and though on earth it happens we may tarry a
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Ovid, The Metamorphoses

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Juan Uribe: The body was in the living room.
Ronald Romero: The police found it crumpled up on the mottled carpet.
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disgusting apartments.
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God-given gifts is great parking skills.
Reflect Upon
How do you make friends? What do you do to create connections with people?
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Juan Uribe: Facing so many deaths wears me down. I fear someday it will be me
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be your friend. If you say an inspirational quote to a stranger, he’ll turn
around and smile. There, you’ve just made a friend. It’s unbelievable.
Let’s say you’re at the grocery store, indecisive about what milk to
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raw, and so on; you’re standing in front of an entire aisle of multicolored
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“With each sunrise, may we value every minute”, or “Be kind, smile to the
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But most lower their guard and bam! Right then, I’ve made a friend who’ll
smile at me every time we meet, someone who, upon my passing, might
feel sorry about it and attend my funeral.
5RQDOG5RPHUR <RX¶UHDQLPEHFLOH-XDQ
-XDQ8ULEH ,PLJKWEHDQLPEHFLOHEXWZKHQ,GLH,¶OOEHDEHORYHGLPEHFLOH6RPHRQH
will know about my death before the sun goes down. I won’t die alone.
Ronald Romero: People who show up at funerals without even really knowing the
deceased, are just thinking: Give me what he had, gimme, gimme,
gimme; yet when he was alive it was more like: Sorry, can’t make it; see
you later; what does this creep want from me? Why won’t he leave me
alone?
Juan Uribe: Can you pass the vapor stick?
Ronald Romero: How annoying.
Juan Uribe: It alleviates my nose.
Ronald Romero: The hell with your nose.
-XDQ8ULEH  <RXNQRZZK\WKH\SDLUHGXVWRJHWKHU"
Ronald Romero: Because they need two people for this shitty job.
-XDQ8ULEH  <RXORYHLW
5RQDOG5RPHUR <HVRIFRXUVH$FWXDOO\ZKHQ,ZDVOLWWOHDQGJURZQXSVDVNHGPH+H\
Ronnie, what do you want to be when you’re older? I always said: I’ll
dedicate my life to rummaging through the abandoned possessions of
decayed people.
Juan Uribe: It’s not anyone’s dream job, but someone has to do it. (Pause) Don’t
you get excited to see what weird behaviors they had, what team they
rooted for, what fetishes they kept? Who they loved or who loved them,
LIDQ\RQHORYHGWKHPDWDOO"3OHDVHZHDOOIDQWDVL]HDERXWVQLɤQJDURXQG
someone’s house, without the fear of getting caught.
5RQDOG5RPHUR 1RWPH
Juan Uribe: Ok, but you still haven’t answered my question.
Ronald Romero: To justify the budget, I guess.
-XDQ8ULEH  $UH\RXVD\LQJ\RXFRXOGGRWKLVMREDORQH"
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Juan Uribe: I think it’s to keep each other company.
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miserable.
(Pause)
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-XDQ8ULEH 9HUPHHU
Ronald Romero: That.
Juan Uribe: I love the MET.
Ronald Romero: Everybody loves the Mets, so what?
-XDQ8ULEH 7KH0HWURSROLWDQ0XVHXPRI$UW
Ronald Romero: Why?
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pay a dollar or a quarter, whatever’s in your pocket, and boom! Instant
culture.
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Juan Uribe: Don’t you?
5RQDOG5RPHUR 1R
Rose E. Oakwood: Investigators work in pairs to discourage theft.
Juan Uribe: Grab it.

Ronald Romero: Really? I don’t even know the guy.
-XDQ8ULEH $EVROXWHO\Pause) Did I tell you about the woman that died standing up?
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-XDQ8ULEH <RXUORVV
Ronald Romero: It’s not a loss, I was there, not you, I told you that story, remember?
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standing up.
Juan Uribe: I’ve always wondered if the agents were the ones who stood her up.
5RQDOG5RPHUR <RXUHDOO\PHDQWKDW"
Juan Uribe: I’m just saying.
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who knows how many days she stood there dead. There’s nothing on
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how she could maintain that position after death, or why gravity did not
claim her. “Hands clutching bars”, stated the report, I’d say, clinging to
life. (Pause) It was on us, well, on them, Ronald Romero and Raymond
*DUFtDKLVIRUPHUSDUWQHUWRVXEPHUJHWKHPVHOYHVLQKHUVWXɣORRNLQJ
for a clue as to who might bury her or be entitled to her belongings. That
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letter, a couple lines stood out: “I want to die in my bed. I don’t desire to
be found staring out the window waiting for something to come save me,
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Ronald Romero: Look, 20 dollars.
Juan Uribe: Dibs!
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Juan Uribe: I can use the 20 now, you’ll need to sell the painting, and it won’t be easy,
you might get caught. Where does a guy with your salary get a painting
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fake.
Ronald Romero: 20 bucks says it’s real. Big Idea
Juan Uribe: There’s no way to prove it.
Any form of investigation,
5RQDOG5RPHUR <RXDUHULJKW3DXVH&KHFNWKH from investigating a text to a
fridge. criminal case, requires keenness
Juan Uribe: There’s no way. to details, careful observation, and
open-mindedness.
Ronald Romero: Brilliant deduction, Einstein. Make a
way.
Juan Uribe: Why do you think there’s people like that?
Ronald Romero: Dead?
Juan Uribe: Hoarders.
Ronald Romero: They don’t think someone will search through their crap.
Juan Uribe: Or they want to punish the world.
Ronald Romero: Enough chitchat; go to the fridge.
-XDQ8ULEH <RXWKLQNKHKDVDQ\EHHUWKDW¶VVWLOOJRRG"
Ronald Romero: Doesn’t matter. Collect the post-its, messages, shopping lists, anything
with words on it.
-XDQ8ULEH <RX¶UHVXFKDKDUGDVVVRPHWLPHV«
5RQDOG5RPHUR 6R"
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like this, don’t you think? Or maybe some woman came and cooked for
him?
Ronald Romero: Here?
-XDQ8ULEH $ORQHO\ZRPDQ
Ronald Romero: In this dump?
-XDQ8ULEH 1RWHYHU\RQHKDVDSODFHWRJR
5RQDOG5RPHUR $Q\WKLQJHOVH"
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:KDW,PHDQLV«:KDWNLQGRIDGYHUWLVHPHQWLVWKDW"$UHWKH\VD\LQJ
their recipe is prehistoric? hey use dinosaur meat? That if you don’t get
your pizza before a meteorite strikes, it’s free? What are they saying, Ron?
Ronnie? (Pause) Know the place? Like it? What’s wrong?
Ronald Romero: My sister used to go there with her husband before she moved to Los
$QJHOHVDQG,ORVWWUDFNRIKHU
Juan Uribe: With that translucent beached-whale who thinks he’s a golfer?
Ronald Romero: Basketball player.
-XDQ8ULEH 6DPHWKLQJ
5RQDOG5RPHUR $:KLWHER\SOD\LQJJROIWKDW¶VQRUPDODFKXQN\:KLWHER\SOD\LQJJROI
that’s even more common, a nearly-translucent obese mama’s boy who
claims he can play basketball like a professional, and that if it weren’t for
KLVLQMXUHGNQHHKH¶GEHSOD\LQJIRUWKH1%$ZHOOWKDW¶VMXVW«<HVZLWK
him.
-XDQ8ULEH :HOOORRNVOLNHRXUXQLGHQWL¿HGGHDGJX\ZDVDKXJHIDQRIWKLVGLQRVDXU
SL]]HULD«2K,JHWLW7KHORJRPHDQVLI\RXHDWDWWKLVSL]]DSODFH\RX¶OO
be like a Tyrannosaurus.
Ronald Romero: Bloodthirsty?
Juan Uribe: Immense, like your brother in law.
(Pause)
Ronald Romero: Hand me the magnet.
Juan Uribe: Triple pepperoni, please.
5RQDOG5RPHUR $QGPXVKURRPVDQGGRXEOHFKHHVH,GRQ¶WJHWZK\\RXOLNHWKHPVR
loaded.
Juan Uribe: Habit.
Ronald Romero: Pass the speaker.
Juan Uribe: Don’t be stingy. Use your own.
5RQDOG5RPHUR <RXVWLOOKDYHQ¶WIRXQGWKHSKRQH"
Juan Uribe: It must be somewhere in the disaster area.
Ronald Romero: Try next to the window.
Juan Uribe: Which one?
Ronald Romero: Landlines are usually next to windows. That way you can pick up and stop
listening to the person on the other end, to look at the sunset or the lady
FDUU\LQJ¿YHJURFHU\EDJVZKR¶VUHDG\WRGURS
 :KDWZDVWKHFDVHEHLQJGLVFXVVHGE\WKHFKDUDFWHUV"/LVW¿YH¿QGLQJVRQWKHVDLGFDVH
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
2. Based on the excerpt, what can you say about the way of life of Ronald Romero and Juan
Uribe?
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
Read the following poems. Then answer the following questions.

1. Island on the EarthE\6DUDGH,EDxH]RQWKLVOLQNhttp://www.jbeilharz.de/poetas/
ibanez/islas-e.html.
• What is the poem about?
__________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________
• To which social issue can you relate the poem? Why?
__________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________
• If challenges in life are characterized as “battles,” how do you think can one win these
battles?
__________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________
• What can you say about the Philippines being an island of Earth? Write a short poem
about it.
__________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________
2. The Mythical Founding of Buenos Aires by Jorge Louis Borges
(QJOLVK7UDQVODWLRQE\$ODVWDLU5HLG
• What is your interpretation of the last two lines in the poem?
__________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________
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__________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________
 $FFRUGLQJWRWKLVSRHPZKDWLVP\WKLFDODERXWWKHIRXQGLQJRI%XHQRV$LUHVDFFRUGLQJ
to this poem?
__________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________
:DWFKWKHYLGHRVRQWKHVHVLWHV:KDWGRWKHVHSHUIRUPDQFHVWHOO\RXDERXW/DWLQ$PHULFDQ
experiences and consciousness? What themes arise from these performances from musicals?
'LVFXVV\RXU¿QGLQJVZLWK\RXUJURXSPDWHVDQGSUHVHQW\RXU¿QGLQJVLQFODVV
 ³%XHQRV$LUHV´IURPWKHPXVLFDO³(YLWD´ KWWSVZZZ\RXWXEHFRPZDWFK"Y Q4B
LF.PP/<
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1. What was the term “mythical” used in the poem of Borges?
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________

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procedure.
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
3. Compare your answer in the second question to the actual poem. Both have explained the
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GLɣHUHQW":ULWHDVKRUWSDUDJUDSKWRH[SODLQ\RXUDQVZHU
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
<RXDUHYROXQWHHUVRIDQRQJRYHUQPHQWDORUJDQL]DWLRQ1*2WKDWWUDYHOVDFURVVWKHJOREH
to send relief goods to people in need. For your next engagement, your destination will be some
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arts and humanities, has suggested that you get to know your country assignment more deeply
by understanding its literature. Thus, in preparation for your community immersion, your
group will be assigned a country, and you will prepare the following: (1) a short background
of the country’s literature landscape; (2) one poem or an excerpt of a story or novel from
that country, which will be read after reporting the background; and (3) a short audiovisual
presentation that will be played on the screen while one or more members of the group are
reading the chosen piece.
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the bosses of the organization.
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Essential Learning
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For one, its turbulent history as a highly colonized region has brought to life some of the most
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had happened to them. This makes you more inspired to look at the bright side of life rather
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their history, then you would be able to do so to with your own daily struggles. One of the most
important outcomes of these desires is the concept of magic realism, where magic is included
in a realist story as if it were a normal occurrence in daily life.
Modernismo,RURIWHQWLPHVNQRZQDVPRGHUQLVPDOVREHJDQLQ/DWLQ$PHULFDEXWZDV
quickly argued against by postmodernism. Postmodernism aims to look at what is not in the
text and interpret its message with skepticism to arrive at a new interpretation.
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their words.

Module
16 Deep into Africa
1. ,GHQWLI\UHSUHVHQWDWLYHWH[WVIURP$IULFD
2. Compare and contrast the various 21st century literary genres and their elements,
structures, traditions from across the globe.
3. Examine the relationship between text and context.
 Choose an appropriate multimedia form of interpreting a literary text.
Africa and Its People

6FLHQWLVWVDQGKLVWRULDQVPRVWO\EHOLHYHWKDW$IULFDLVWKH Big Idea
birthplace of mankind. It is generally said that millions of years Recall from your subjects in
DJR WKH ¿UVW XSULJKW KXPDQV DSSHDUHG LQ $IULFD DQG WKH\ social studies how civilizations
OHDUQHGKRZWRKXQWFUHDWHWRROVDQGPDNH¿UH)URP$IULFD came to be. Many advancements
have been introduced over the
WKH\VSUHDGWR(XURSHDQGRWKHUSDUWVRI$VLD years, but we should never forget
7KH $IULFDQ FRQWLQHQW KDV XQGHUJRQH VR PDQ\ FKDQJHV where everything started.
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VXLWDEOHIRUIDUPLQJ(YHQWXDOO\LWJUHZGULHUDQGEHFDPHDGHVHUW,QWHUHVWLQJO\$IULFDQVFRSHG
with whatever challenge the climate would give them and they survived. Progress followed soon
DIWHUWKDW:ULWLQJZDVVDLGWRKDYHEHHQLQYHQWHGLQ1RUWKHDVW$IULFDGXULQJWKH%URQ]H$JH²
VSHFL¿FDOO\LQ(J\SW7KH(J\SWLDQVEHFDXVHRIWKHLUULFKUHVRXUFHVZHUHDEOHWRPDNHWRROVDQG
weapons out of bronze. They were also advanced in terms of culture and government, because
they had laws and punishments. Eventually, climate change overtook the continent once again
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sea.
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Big Idea
conquered them. This happened fast, and soon they were in
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colonized by the Europeans,
,VODPWR1RUWK$IULFDDQGFRQYHUWHGHYHU\RQHWKHUH their culture has been affected.
However, the deepest parts of
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Africa have not been infiltrated by
kingdoms. What were these? These were the powerful kingdoms foreign control.
WKDWPRQRSROL]HGWUDGHZLWKWKH$UDEVDQGRWKHUFRXQWULHVXS
north. They traded gold and slaves for luxury goods and salt—
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with gold), IfeRI6RXWKZHVW1LJHULDWKH\PDGHWHUUDFRWWDVFXOSWXUHVDQGEURQ]HVWDWXHVBenin,
Mali (which grew so powerful that, in its prime, its people traded gold, slaves, horses, and salt),
Songhai, and Kanem-Bornu (which traded metal).
:KHQWKH(XURSHDQVFRORQL]HGSDUWVRI$IULFDLQWKHWKFHQWXU\WKHVODYHWUDGHEHJDQWR
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and together with the slaves, the British also took sugar back to their country. This was called the
Triangular Trade.
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$IULFDWKHQ%\$IULFDH[FHSWIRU/LE\DDQG(WKLRSLDKDGEHHQWDNHQRYHUE\WKH(XURSHDQV
Reflect Upon
:KDWFRPHVWR\RXUPLQGZKHQ\RXKHDU$IULFD"$IWHUNQRZLQJLWVKLVWRU\ZKDWFKDQJHG
in the way you see the continent?
_______________________________________________________________
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great continent it was intended to be in the beginning.
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The Philippines was also challenged the same way that Big Idea
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Take inspiration from people
has been colonized extensively before, it is normal that you still who change the world. One day,
experience the stirrings of the kind of history that your country you might be able to change it too.
has gone through. The turbulent yet challenging history of
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SUHYLRXVPRGXOH7KHUHDUHRWKHUJUHDWZULWHUVZKR\RXZLOOPHHWLQWKLVPRGXOH1DGLQH*RUGLPHU
%HVVLH+HDGDQG:ROH6R\LQND
 +RZGLGWKHKLVWRU\RI$IULFDDɣHFWLWVOLWHUDWXUH"
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places handle these struggles?
_____________________________________________________________
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VLQJHU IURP (J\SW 6KH KDV ZULWWHQ VHYHUDO
short story volumes, as well as novels in her
native language, such as Angelica and Al-
Fishawi6KHKDVZRQWKH2UJDQL]DWLRQ
RI &XOWXUDO 3DODFHV $ZDUG IRU The Son of
Nymphs, WKH 6KRUW 6WRU\ &RPSHWLWLRQ
by the Egyptian Club for House of Almond,
DQGWKH$NKEDU$O$GDE3UL]HUXQQHU
up) for her novel The Green Cobbler. 6KH
sings as a soloist at the Cairo Opera House
and has a master’s degree in Hematology and
Immunology.
Fig. 16.1. Ghada Al-Absy

Source: https://www.facebook.com/thewomenofegypt
An Excerpt of Al-Fishawi
By Ghada Al-Absy
7UDQVODWLRQE\&ODLUH-DFREVRQ
The Road
They say the Road is mute. They say it tells no stories. But no—the Road abounds with
conversations no human has ever heard, with countless secrets scattered across its surface. The
very earth beneath your feet cares for you, Mankind, a brown mother delighted by your presence.
1R RQHHOVH NQRZV WKH VWRU\ RI WKLVROG SDLU RI VKRHV FUDIWHG LQ DVNLOOHG 7XVFDQ FREEOHU¶V
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Reflect Upon
Compare the role of shoes or shoemakers in this story to other Filipino stories such as
Sandosenang Sapatos E\'U/XLV*DWPDLWDQZKRLVDOVRDGRFWRUOLNH*KDGD$O$EV\DQG
White Shoes by Grace Chong? What other stories about shoes or shoemakers do you know?
_______________________________________________________________
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Every crease in his face marked him uniquely Florentine; over time, the heels of his many
shoes had slowly worn a hollow where he held them against his bowed chest. He made them with
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creased leather has come to resemble the creased face of their maker more than its smooth new
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from years of use and the black insoles have grown thin under his feet, worn away on the Road.
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These are the tongues that bit by bit recount everything – tongues of old, weary soles telling the
Road all their stories.
On the grounds of the College of Engineering, Egyptian soles stream in, their shoe nails all
rusted in, having so long waited their turn. They bustle through alongside the English leather and
WKH*HUPDQZHDYHDQGWKH%RORJQHVHVWLWFKLQJ$UPHQLDQVWLOHWWRVFUXVKKHDUWVEHDWLQJDOOWKHZD\
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full of dreams.
The Tuscan soles tell me the story of their owner, Taha, a student at this engineering school.
They complain to me of his cruel misuse: not only would he walk back and forth the whole distance
IURPKRPHLQ(]EHW%HOODOWRWKHVFKRRORQ6KXEUD6WUHHWEXWNHHSJRLQJWRFDWFKDEXVKHDGLQJ
to Manial. There, twice a week, the shoes would sit and rest for over three hours on a soft, blood-
red rug in Mrs. Lawahez’s house while Taha tutored her two middle-school children. (He had
EHHQWKHUHEHIRUHWRZRUNZLWKKLVDUWWHDFKHU'U$GOLRQGHFRUDWLQJWKHKRXVH6RZKHQ0UV
Lawahez asked him to tutor her children, he said yes.)
Every week, at the garden overlooking the Ismaili Canal, the shoes of this skinny young man
sat beside a pair of pink ones belonging to Lubna, his girlfriend. Taha told her he loved her, baring
all his joy and grief and repeating “If only I hadn’t been sick at my entrance exam” until she cried.
$QGULJKWDZD\WRFKHHUKHUXSWKHVNLQQ\\RXQJPDQWROGKHUKRZKHZDVGRLQJEHWWHUWKDQDOO
his classmates, both Egyptian and foreign, and how his professors expected him to do extremely
well. He told her about all the girls who begged him to draw them after they saw the charcoal
GUDZLQJKHGLGRI(YDWKH$UPHQLDQJLUOLQKLVOHFWXUHQRWHERRN7KHQ/XEQDJRWXSVHWDQGKH
soothed her with a long hug and a kiss on her hand.
Taha spent six months at that school, studying and working and loving and drawing and
continuing to walk back and forth. Then one day he arrived as usual at Mrs. Lawahez’s house, but
before he could go in, he saw policemen outside the house and overheard the neighbors saying
that an illicit brothel was just discovered inside. I couldn’t tell Taha that only a few minutes before

his arrival, I’d felt Mrs. Lawahez walking barefoot on me followed by several other women, hastily
FRYHULQJWKHPVHOYHVDQGZHHSLQJ5RXJKKHDY\RɤFHUV¶ERRWVZHUHKHPPLQJWKHPLQOHDGLQJ
them to police vans.
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to return. He had no idea where to go, or how he could live without the money he’d been earning,
HVSHFLDOO\VLQFHKHKDGVWRSSHGZRUNLQJIRU'U$GOLZKRKDGIDOOHQLOO+ROGLQJKLVQRWHERRNZLWK
ERWKKDQGVKHKXJJHGLWWRKLVFKHVWFU\LQJ1RRQHFRXOGKHDUKLVVREVH[FHSWWKH1LOHWKHPRRQ
and I.
The owner of the shoes was not the only one crying; the next morning, millions of footsteps
were sobbing. This land had never seen such crowds on the Road before, from the south to the
north. The streets seemed to blend together, anxious footsteps toppling every barrier on the way
WRDVLQJOHGHVWLQDWLRQ$IDUPHUFHDVHGSORZLQJKLV¿HOGWRHPEUDFHKLVR[DQGFU\KLVERG\VWLOO
DQGEDUHIRRWLQWKHPXGEXWKLVKHDUWERXQGIRUWKHVDPHSODFH1DVVHU¶VFDVNHW
7KH5RDG¶VEODFNVWRQHKHDUWIRUHYHUEUHDNVZLWKVRUURZIRU$GDPDQGKLVFKLOGUHQDKHDUW
that cannot bear the farewells of companions and lovers. The Road knows from a person’s heavy
steps the weight of the burdens they carry. But troubles are like many-legged spiders or beetles;
WKHLUOHJVHDVLO\EUHDNIDOORɣDQGGLVDSSHDU0\DVSKDOWVXUIDFHLVOLWWHUHGZLWKIUDJPHQWVRIWKHLU
ERGLHVDQGEURNHQRɣOHJVWKHFOR\LQJRGRURIWKHLUGHIHDWVHHSVWKURXJKP\SRUHV
Many unforgettable nights followed for the owner of the Tuscan shoes. He kept going back
to a spot he’d never visited before, a place surrounded by high fences. One day, I found that tired
pair of shoes jumping for joy alongside a pair of Bata shoes (belonging to Taha’s friend Zakariya).
(YHU\IHZGD\VDSDLURISODVWLFVDQGDOVEHORQJLQJWR1DEL\\DW7DKD¶VPRWKHUZRXOGZDONTXLFNO\
IURP(]ED WR$VKPDJKDDV LIVKH ZHUHWU\LQJ WRFDWFK VRPHWKLQJEHIRUH LWHVFDSHG (DFKWLPH
VKHUHWXUQHGKHUVKXɥLQJIRRWVWHSVKHDY\ZLWKGHVSDLU8QWLOWKHQDPHRIWKHPREVWHU=LQKRP
0D¶DUHNFDPHXSDQGWKHQ1DEL\\DWFDPHEDFNKRPHWKLVWLPHZLWK(J\SWLDQSRXQGV6KH
FDOOHGH[FLWHGO\WR7DKDWKDWVKHKDGWKHPRQH\KHQHHGHGDQGKHUVDQGDOVÀHZLQWRWKHDLUZLWK
her cracked heels as Taha picked her up and spun her around. Taha’s brothers and sisters joined
WKHPKDSSLO\DQGHYHU\RQHODXJKHGZKHQOLWWOH<RXVVHIPDUFKHGDURXQGWKHURRPOLNHDVROLGHU
<RXODXJKVRQVRI$GDPDQGWKHQ\RXFU\7KHZD\RI\RXUOLYHVLVWRVHSDUDWHDIWHUPHHWLQJ
and to arrive at your destination only after a long journey. But this young man feels lost – the Road
FDQIHHO FRQIXVLRQ LQ\RXU IRRWVWHSV $IWHUVHHLQJ KLV IULHQGV DWVFKRRO IRU WKHODVW WLPH VD\LQJ
sorrowful goodbyes and leaving behind his lecture notes and some of his paintings as gifts, he will
soon depart this colorful land to go to another, one he’s never seen before.
The whole time, his mind was on the owner of the pink shoes; when he walked by, he looked up
to her window to see her waiting as usual. This time, he decided to go straight up to her apartment,
DQGVKHRSHQHGWKHGRRU6KHUHDGKLVGHSDUWXUHLQKLVEOXHH\HVDQGEXULHGKHUIDFHLQKLVFKHVW
as he held her in his arms. He surrendered to the sanctity of the moment. The Road says that where
two lovers stand, created from one soul, the love in their hearts casts a light for all to see. The Road
DOVRVD\VWKDWDORYHULVQRWEOLQGEXWKDVKLVRZQYLVLRQ1RRQHZRXOGXQGHUVWDQGZK\/XEQD¶V
PRWKHUZKHQVKHVDZWKHPXQLWHGLQWKHLUORQJHPEUDFHVWRRGVLOHQWO\E\1RRQHFRXOGJXHVV
what might happen a few minutes later if her brother were to arrive and see them like that. This
moment is beyond fear and suspicion.
Tuscan shoes, how will you tell the pink ones not only that you are traveling to a faraway land,
but that you will be kept from seeing or speaking to each other while you’re gone? How can you tell
KHUWKDW\RXZLOOJHWRQDSODQHWR6XGDQDQGMRLQWKHPLOLWDU\DFDGHP\WKHUH"
Earth, how can your children tell each other goodbye? How is a mother supposed to give birth
WRDFKLOGUDLVHKLPXSRQO\WROHWKLPJRRɣDORQH"+RZZLOO1DEL\\DWGRLW"
1. What is the role of the shoes in the story? How was it used by the author?
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
2. What are the struggles of Taha?
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
3. What is the relationship between the shoes and the Road? How about Taha and the Tuscan
shoes?
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
 :K\GR\RXWKLQNLVWKH³5RDG´FDSLWDOL]HGWKURXJKRXWWKHVWRU\":KDWGRHVWKLVV\PEROL]H"
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
 ,I\RXUVKRHVFRXOGWDONZKDWZRXOGLWWHOO\RX"
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
5HDGWKHIROORZLQJVHOHFWLRQV$QVZHUWKHIROORZLQJTXHVWLRQV
1. Civilian and SoldierE\:ROH6R\LQND
$NLQZDQGH 2OXZROH ³:ROH´ %DEDWXQGH 6R\LQND EHWWHU NQRZQ DV :ROH 6R\LQND LV D
1LJHULDQSRHWDQGSOD\ZULJKW+HLVWKH¿UVW$IULFDQWREHKRQRUHGWKH1REHO3UL]HLQ/LWHUDWXUH
LQ+HVWXGLHGLQERWK1LJHULDDQGWKH8.ZKHUHKHHYHQWXDOO\ZRUNHGZLWKWKH5R\DO
&RXUW7KHDWUHRI/RQGRQ+LVSOD\VKDVEHHQSHUIRUPHGERWKLQ1LJHULDDQG/RQGRQ+HKDV
DOVREHHQDVWDXQFKSROLWLFDODFWLYLVWZKLFKOHGWRKLVDUUHVWGXULQJWKH1LJHULDQ&LYLO:DUDQG
VROLWDU\FRQ¿QHPHQWIRUWZR\HDUV
http://www.shigeku.org/xlib/lingshidao/waiwen/soyinka.htm

 'RWKHSRHPUHÀHFWVDFLYLOZDULQDFOHDUPDQQHU":K\RUZK\QRW"
__________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________
 :KDWOLWHUDU\WHFKQLTXHVGRHV6R\LQNDXVHLQWKHSRHPDQGKRZGRWKH\HQKDQFHWKH
central message of the poem?
__________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________
 How can war change your personhood? Is it possible to survive a war “unscathed”?
Why or why not?
__________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________
2. Self Portrait by Bessie Head

%HVVLH(PHU\+HDGZDVIURP3LHWHUPDULW]EXUJ6RXWK$IULFD6KHZDVDFKLOGRIDULFKZKLWH
6RXWK$IULFDQZRPDQDQGDEODFNVHUYDQWEDFNZKHQLQWHUUDFLDOUHODWLRQVKLSVZHUHLOOHJDO6KH
has published numerous novels and short story collections during her short lifetime.
KWWSVZZZMVWRURUJVWDEOH"VHT SDJHBVFDQBWDEBFRQWHQWV
 How does this poem relate to Bessie Head’s life as a product of an interracial union?
__________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________
 +RZFDQWKLVSRHPEHDOVRDUHSUHVHQWDWLYHRI$IULFDQFRORQLDOKLVWRU\"
__________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________
 Which parts do you think symbolize the “contradiction” being talked about in the
poem?
__________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________
Reflect Upon
What kinds of war are we battling nowadays?
_______________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
 +RZGLG6R\LQNDSRUWUD\WKHFLYLOLDQDQGWKHVROGLHULQWKHSRHP"
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
2. What is a civil war? How was it portrayed in the poem?
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
The Cultural Center of the Philippines is organizing a multimedia exhibit for its World
Literature Month. Teachers, media practitioners, writers, artists, critics, and people from the
arts and humanities, such as yourself, are invited to participate as exhibitors. The task is to
choose one literary piece from the module and create a multimedia presentation of your choice
as an interpretation of the piece. (Just think of the creative mixture of text, image, video, or
sound, among others, using your chosen literary piece as the center.)
<RXUPXOWLPHGLDSUHVHQWDWLRQZLOOEHVKRZQLQ\RXUDOORFDWHGVSRWLQWKHH[KLELWDQG\RX
will play your presentation when visitors come to look at it. Guest judges are also roaming
DURXQGWR¿QGWKHEHVWSLHFHWKURXJKWKHIROORZLQJFULWHULD
Criterion Points
Interpretation of literary piece 20
(ɣHFWLYHXVHRIPXOWLPHGLDIRUP 20
Creativity 10

7KHUHDUHPDQ\GLYHUVH$IULFDQOLWHUDWXUHVDYDLODEOHRQOLQH,I\RXZLVKWRUHDGPRUHRQ
OLWHUDWXUHIURP$IULFDYLVLWWKHOLQNIRU\RXWRVWDUW\RXUH[SORUDWLRQ
• https://library.stanford.edu/guides/childrens-books-african-theme
• http://www.ama.africatoday.com/african_literature.htm
Essential Learning
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world in terms of history, culture, and of course, literature. Despite the turmoil and trauma
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PDGHXSRIIUHHFRXQWULHV1HOVRQ0DQGHODDQG&KLQXD$FKHEHDUH$IULFDQVNQRZQIRUWKHLU
achievements.
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LWV OLWHUDWXUH EHFRPHV XQLTXH VXEYHUVLYH DQG H[SUHVVLYH $IULFDQ ZULWHUV DUH QRW DIUDLG WR
attack their colonizers and to demand their freedom. Their struggles become yours when you
UHDGWKHLUOLWHUDWXUHDQGLWLVLQWKLVVWUXJJOHWKDW\RXPD\¿QG\RXULQQHUYRLFHWRVWDQGXSIRU
what you believe in.
Module
17 The Atlas of World Literature
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$PHULFDDQG$IULFD
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3. Compare and contrast the various 21st century literary genres and their elements,
 ([DPLQHWKHUHODWLRQVKLSEHWZHHQWH[WDQGFRQWH[W
Global Issues as of Now

Have you picked up the news lately via the newspaper Big Idea
or the internet? What is the current news that you have read Issues are more accessible
about? What is your opinion about this particular issue, and do to us in terms of acquiring
you feel strongly about it? Why or why not? information and of reacting
on these issues because of the
Current events and global issues are always a hot topic for internet. Still, using the internet
entails great responsibility.
anyone who wants to stay informed with what is happening
around the world. Right now, the internet has democratized the
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media timelines, on search engines, and even on your cellular phones. This kind of democracy
when it comes to receiving news and being informed of global issues has made young people like
you smarter and more informed about what is happening around you.
$WWKHVDPHWLPHKRZHYHUWKLVNLQGRILQIRUPDWLRQGHPRFUDF\KDVOHGVRPHSHRSOHWREHOLHYH
that younger people nowadays are more apathetic to what is happening around them. This is
because being bombarded with information at a constant pace has the possibility of “numbing”
your generation to the point of perceiving events of violence and injustice as somewhat usual
RFFXUUHQFHV <RX UHDG VHH DQG KHDU DERXW LW HYHU\ GD\ VR LW LV QRW QHZ ZKHQ \RX HQFRXQWHU
another issue like this in the open. Do you feel this way sometimes? The information democracy
that the internet has began is a two-way street—it has its pros and cons.
1. What are the functions of the internet?
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________

2. Does the internet help in better shaping society, or is it a source of destruction? Defend
your answer.
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
Reflect Upon
Have you accessed any literary content using the internet? How was your experience?
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
One of the pros of using the internet is the increasing concern and information campaign
for the people’s stand against climate change or environmental hazards. There are thousands
of internet sites and social media accounts dedicated to informing normal citizens of what they
FDQGRWRKHOSSUHVHUYHWKHHFRV\VWHPDQGFRQVHUYHRXUQDWXUDOUHVRXUFHVOHVWZHDOOVXɣHUWKH
consequences. “Climate change,” “ecological health,” “global warming” and “carbon footprint” are
VRPHRIWKHEX]]ZRUGVWKDWWULJJHUKHDGOLQHVHYHU\VLQJOHGD\<RXKHDUSHRSOHVD\LQJWKDWFOLPDWH
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Reflect Upon
Can environmental studies and literature be connected? Explain your answer.
_______________________________________________________________
_______________________________________________________________
_______________________________________________________________
_______________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
In literature, the concern for the environment and the human being’s overall safety has been
highlighted in a fairly new discourse called ecocriticism. Ecocriticism is the union of science and
literature that look at certain texts or literary selections as commentaries or sources of possible
ideas or solutions against environmental degradation. It may include topics as broad as animal
studies, archipelagic discourse, romantic poems, dismantling of disasters, and so much more.
With the democratization of the Internet, ecocriticism has been able to reach so many scholars and
researchers all over the world, so that the contribution of literature to the environmental debate
and discourse can be tangible and real.
 +RZGRHVWKHLQWHUQHWDɣHFWOLWHUDWXUH"
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
2. What is the purpose of ecocriticism?
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
3. What does this module say about the purpose of literature?
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
The premier publisher of children’s storybooks will be anthologizing a collection of short

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of the premier storybook writers today’s time, you have been invited by the editors to submit a
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theme is a social issue experienced by children not only in the country but around the world. In
your story, the child should be an empowered character. Make sure to properly capture direct
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Literary Workshop
One of the most common practices in literature and creative writing is joining and/or giving
RIFUHDWLYHRUFULWLFDO ZULWLQJZRUNVKRSV$workshop is meant to gather both professional and
nonprofessional writers together to share their ideas about one another and to facilitate constructive
criticisms about one another’s works. In this way, learning is communal and there is a friendly
community that aims to help one another learn the tricks and trades of the craft.
For you to conduct a successful writing workshop in your class, you must remember the
following:
1. If your teacher gives you the work you need to Big Idea
workshop beforehand, make sure to read it the night Do not feel bad when
before. Write your comments on the margins. Then on someone criticizes your piece,
a blank page, construct your comments in a way that because criticism can be seen as
one step toward improving your
you feel is more positive. work. At the same time, share your
 <RXU FRPPHQWV PXVW PRUH RU OHVV IROORZ WKH thoughts on the work of others so
that you can help them improve as
“sandwich” rule: start with the positives (usually by well.
congratulating the writer on the piece), go to what can
be improved, and then end on a positive note.
3. Wait for your turn during the workshop. Listen carefully to what your other classmates
have to say; if they have said what you already intend to, then do not repeat it anymore.
 .HHS \RXU FRPPHQWV FOHDU DQG FRQFLVH 7KHUH LV QR QHHG WR UDPEOH RQ DERXW \RXU
suggestions or referring to your own work. Remember, when you do a workshop on a
literary piece, the workshop has to be about that piece and not about your own work.
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process. When you are given the paper, you do not have the name of the writer there.
Doing so removes any sort of bias that may be present in commenting on the paper. Even
if you feel that you know who the writer is, do not mention it and refer to the writer as
“writer.”
6. When you have said your comments, let the others take their turns and try not to disagree
or agree with anyone saying their own opinions.
7. When the writer gets a turn to explain his or her work, congratulate him or her. If the
writer does not agree with your comments, then accept it. That is his or her own opinion,
as your comments are your own.
If you do have other concerns about the workshop, your teacher will help in facilitating the rest
of the discussion. Enjoy the workshop!
1. What is the purpose of a workshop?
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
2. What is expected from someone who is participating in a literary workshop?
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
3. What are some forms of etiquette during literary workshops?
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
 6RPHZRUNVKRSVZRXOGUHTXLUHSDUWLFLSDQWVWRUHVXEPLWWKHZRUNWKDWXQGHUZHQWWKURXJK
the workshop. Do you think this is necessary? Why or why not?
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
 :KR GR \RX WKLQN VKRXOG SDUWLFLSDWH LQ D ZRUNVKRS²D ZULWHU RU D FULWLF" 'HIHQG \RXU
answer.
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
7KH<RXQJ:ULWHUV6RFLHW\IDFLOLWDWHVRQOLQHZRUNVKRSVE\DOORZLQJZULWHUVWRVXEPLWWKHLU
works so that other members can comment, share insights, and interact in relation to the
works. These works contain a diverse range of cultural backgrounds and themes as writers are
IURPGLɣHUHQWSDUWVRIWKHJOREH*RWRKWWSVZZZ\RXQJZULWHUVVRFLHW\FRP&KRRVHRQHRI
the works posted and read it. Then give a helpful comment to the author. Take a screenshot of
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the work, and share how the work can be improved.
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storybooks such as “The Talking Tablet” and “The Turtle and the Laptop” have become global
VXFFHVV<RXUERVVHV KDYHWDVNHG\RXWR DFTXLUHWKHQH[W ELJKLWLQWKH FKLOGUHQ¶VOLWHUDWXUH
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paragraph of some short stories for children (the one the class has written for a previous
activity). Then, everyone will share his or her comments about the story based on the title and
WKH¿UVWSDUDJUDSKJLYHQWKDWWKHVHVKRXOGDOUHDG\VWLUWKHLQWHUHVWRIWKHZULWHU
Each publisher should be able to acquire one work by announcing that he or she is
interested in the work during the whole session (one publisher can only get one story). Make
sure that you share insightful comments, as your bosses will be with you to also evaluate you as
DSXEOLVKHUGXULQJWKHVSHHFKSLWFKLQJZRUNVKRS$UWLFXODWHWKHJRRGDQGEDGDVSHFWVRIWKH
work, and share how the work can be improved.

Here are some helpful websites which allow you to self-publish your own work:
• https://www.lulu.com/
• http://teacher.scholastic.com/writeit/pubhome.asp
• https://www.wattpad.com/
Essential Learning
Literature is now a democratic avenue where everyone can have his or her ideas read,
analyzed, and appreciated by anyone from any part of the world—all thanks to the internet.
Thus, whatever you have learned in the previous modules may now be used in creating your
own literary work that may be published online. In this way, you reach not only your classmates,
but also potential readers around the world.
Truly, literature has the capacity to reach out and extend its ideas to everyone thanks to
its universality and timelessness. It is also multidisciplinary, for it may discuss a wide range
of topics such as science, history, philosophy, values, and ethics, to name a few. The ideas that
literature may tackle are endless, and you should take advantage of that.
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KDYHRSHQHG\RXUPLQGKHDUWDQGVSLULWWRZKDWOLWHUDWXUHPD\RɣHUWR\RX,WLVQRZLQ\RXU
hands to use these new discoveries to also open the minds, hearts, and spirits of those around
you through your own literature. The power is now in your hands.
Culminating Output
Track: Academic
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conference, which seeks to invite scholars in the arts and humanities to share their research on
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write a comparative critical paper that contains the following:
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sources)
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These elements of the critical paper should be written on a 10-page double-spaced paper that
has the following parts:
1. Title
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3. Five keywords
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objectives
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7. Conclusions and implications
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best papers will be awarded based on the following criteria:
Clarity of objectives and framework 20%

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Relevance of research 20%
Well-crafted conclusion statements 20%
Clarity and creativity of visuals 10%
Manner of presentation 10%
Total 100%

Quarter Challenge
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:ULWHDZRUGDQDO\VLVDERXWLWSRLQWV
Annabel Lee
By Edgar Allan Poe
It was many and many a year ago,

In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
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Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,

In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
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With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven
Coveted her and me.
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In this kingdom by the sea,
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To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,

Went envying her and me—
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In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
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But our love it was stronger by far than the love

Of those who were older than we—
Of many far wiser than we—
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Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
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For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
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Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea—
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
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1. What is the importance of using literary theory in analyzing a literary text?
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 :KDWLVWKHIXQFWLRQRIOLWHUDWXUHLQWKHVRFLHW\"
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forms will it take? What themes will arise? What interactions with literature will be
introduced?
Bibliography
Books
Bobis, Merlinda. “The Sadness Collector.” In White Turtle: A Collection of Short Stories. Quezon City: Anvil
Press, 2012.
Cordero-Fernando, Gilda. Gilda Cordero Fernando Sampler. Pasig City: Anvil Publishing, 2009.
Cruz, Isagani. “The Other Other: Towards a Postcolonial Poetics.” In The Likhaan Book of Philippine
Criticism 1992–1997. Quezon City: University of the Philippines Press, 2000.
(YDVFR0DUMRULH³,VLWWKH.LQJ¿VKHU"´,QDreamweavers: Selected Poems, 1976–1986. Philippines:
Editorial and Media Resources, 1987.
Florentino, Alberto. “The World is an Apple.” In The portable Florentino: Seven representative plays for
stage and television in English and Filipino, 1954–1998. Manila: De La Salle University Press, 1998.
Hidalgo, Cristina Pantoja. Travels with Tania. Manila: University of Santo Tomas Publishing House, 2009.
Hosseini, Khaled. A Thousand Splendid Suns. USA: Riverhead Books, 2007.
Joaquin, Nick. “Summer Solstice.” In The Summer Solstice and Other Stories. Quezon City: Anvil
Publishing, 2011.
Mishima, Yukio. “Swaddling Clothes.” Translated by Ivan Morris. In Short Stories for Students.Michigan:
Thomson Gale, 1997. First published in Japan by Bungei, 1955.
Ong, Charlson. Banyaga: A Song of War. Quezon City: Anvil Press, 2006.
Santos, Bienvenido. “Scent of Apples.” In Scent of Apples: Collection of Short Stories. USA: University of
Washington Press, 1979.
Sionil, Jose. “The God Stealer.” In The God Stealer and Other Stories. Manila: Solidad Publishing House,
1968.
Tiempo, Edith. “Bonsai.” The Tracks of Babylon and Other Poems0DQLOD*LUDɣH%RRNV
Tiempo, Edith. “Writers for National Unity.” In The Likhaan Book of Philippine Criticism 1992–1997.
Quezon City: University of the Philippines Press, 2000.
Web sites
Nasrin, Taslima. “Motherhood.” Translated by Tapati Gupta. Harvest 2, 2002. http://www.sawnet.org/
books/writing/tr_Motherhood.html (accessed 15 December 2015).
Gunner, Elizabeth Ann Wynne. “African literature.” Encyclopedia Britannica Web site (http://www.
britannica.com/art/African-literature, accessed on 10 April 2015).
Weiner, James. “Exploring the Depth and Beauty of Anglo-Saxon Literature.” Ancient History Etc., 2
February 2015. http://etc.ancient.eu/2015/02/02/exploring-depth-beauty-anglo-saxonliterature/
(accessed on 10 April 2015).
Halsall, Paul. “East Asian History Sourcebook.” Fordham University Web site, July 1998. https://legacy.
fordham.edu/halsall/eastasia/eastasiasbook.asp (accessed on 10 April 2015).
“Formalism.” Encyclopedia Britannica Web site (http://www.britannica.com/topic/Formalism-
literarycriticism,accessed on 3 March 2015).
Andaya, Barbara Watson. “Introduction to Southeast Asia.” Asia Society Web site (http://asiasociety.org/
introduction-southeast-asia, accessed on 1 April 2015).
“History of Latin America.” History World Web site (http://www.historyworld.net/wrldhis/
3ODLQ7H[W+LVWRULHVDVS"KLVWRU\LG DDDFFHVVHGRQ$SULO
McLellan, David. “Marxism.” Encyclopedia Britannica Web site (http://www.britannica.com/topic/ Marxism,
accessed on 10 April 2015).
“New Criticism.” Encyclopedia Britannica Web site (http://www.britannica.com/art/New-Criticism,
Ivison, Duncan. “Postcolonialism.” Encyclopedia Britannica Web site (http://www.britannica.com/topic/
postcolonialism, accessed on 10 April 2015).
Duignan, Brian. “Postmodernism.” Encyclopedia Britannica Web site (http://www.britannica.com/topic/
postmodernism-philosophy, accessed on 10 April 2015).
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on 10 April 2015).
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Alfar, Dean Francis. “Six from Downtown.” Philippine Speculative Fiction Sampler, 2 December 2006.
KWWSSKLOLSSLQHVSHFXODWLYH¿FWLRQFRPDOIDUKWPODFFHVVHGRQ)HEUXDU\
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(accessed on 31 March 2015)
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DIWA Senior High School Series:

Philippine Copyright 2019 by DIWA LEARNING SYSTEMS INC

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Unit I 21st Century Philippine Literature from the Regions

Module 1 Mapping Our Literary Past, Present, and Future .......................................................3

Unit II 21st Century Literature from the World

Module 9 A Rediscovery of the Literary World ...................................................................... 139

Bibliography .................................................................................................. 267

I from the Regions

At the end of this module, I can:

Philippine Precolonial Literature

21st Century Philippine Literature from the Regions 3

What is the relevance of studying precolonial forms of literature?

Beyond Walls 1.1 Read and Answer

21st Century Philippine Literature from the Regions 5

21st Century Philippine Literature from the Regions 7

2. Who are the three sons of Alunsina and Datu Paubari?

Spanish Colonial Philippine Literature

21st Century Philippine Literature from the Regions 9

Beyond Walls 1.2 Go Online

What Have I Learned So Far?

Precolonial Philippine Spanish Colonial Philippine

21st Century Philippine Literature from the Regions 11

Extend Your Knowledge

21st Century Philippine Literature from the Regions 13

At the end of this module, I can:

Beyond Walls 2.1 Apply It in Real Life

Philippine Poetry: Its Form, Language, and Speech

Fig. 2.1. Carlos Angeles

Carlos Angeles ZDVERUQRQ0D\LQ7DFOREDQ/H\WH+H¿QLVKHGKLVXQGHUJUDGXDWHGHJUHH

21st Century Philippine Literature from the Regions 15

'UDZ\RXUYLVXDO LPDJHU\RI³*DEX´DV GHVFULEHGLQWKHSRHPRQ DSLHFHRISDSHU 7KHQ¿QG

Fig. 2.2. Marjorie Evasco

21st Century Philippine Literature from the Regions 17

This is how I desire god on this island

Beyond Walls 2.3 Go Online

Watch this crash course on prejudice and discrimination found at https://www.youtube.com/

21st Century Philippine Literature from the Regions 19

What Have I Learned So Far?

1. What is organic unity? How is it important in understanding the meaning of a poem?

Letter to Amina, Who Must Surely Be Ang Saksi Ay Ebidensya at

-XO\ Titigan ang mga mata ng nabubulok

21st Century Philippine Literature from the Regions 21

21st Century Philippine Literature from the Regions 23

At the end of this module, I can:

Fig. 3.1. Mara Clara

Fig. 3.2. Paz Marquez Benitez

21st Century Philippine Literature from the Regions 25

Read “Dead Stars” by Paz Marquez Benitez.

21st Century Philippine Literature from the Regions 27

21st Century Philippine Literature from the Regions 29

21st Century Philippine Literature from the Regions 31

21st Century Philippine Literature from the Regions 33

21st Century Philippine Literature from the Regions 35

What Have I Learned So Far?

21st Century Philippine Literature from the Regions 37

What are you thinking?

What are you seeing?

What are you saying?

What are you doing?

³'HDG6WDUV´LV DVKRUW VWRU\WKDWHQFDSVXODWHVSHUIHFWO\ KRZFKDUDFWHUVLQ¿FWLRQUHVSRQG WRWKH

Fig. 3.3. Merlinda Bobis

The Sadness Collector