Lesson 10 Short Story

TEXTS AND CONTEXTS

 The study of literature is devoted to the “objective”
quality of the text  a work of literature has to be
perceived as an independent organism, freely existing
and making on its own.

The close reading of the text the main method of this

“objective” school of approaching literature  isolates
the text from other contexts (etymologically,
connections) believing that the work must successfully
articulate itself without consideration of the author’s
intention, the work’s historical milieu, nor it’s impact on
particular audience.
 The critic M.H. Abrams (1953), in his study of
Romantic theory and it’s critical tradition, delineated
four basic literary approaches to interpretation:
expressive (considering the author’s creative intent),
mimetic (considering literature as a “mirror” of the world
and reality), pragmatic (considering the effect of
literature on readers); and objective (considering only
the work).
 The mastery of close reading  or the explication of
the work  depends on the closeness of a reader’s
apprehension of the internal elements of the text. A
poem requires the examination of the persona, dramatic
situation, images and figurative language and poetic
insight.

A story, on the other hand, must be read considering its

point of view, characterization, plot, conflict, and the
theme.
 The author’s biography and influences, for instance,
may be used as a reference in further understanding a
text.

The critic Catherine Belsey (2014), on the other hand,

recently revalued pleasure  an aspect that belongs to
the reader’s experience of work  and encouraged
literature teachers to return to it as a fundamental
literary value.
 One must remember that while the work can be
isolated as an independent , “organically whole”, made
thing, it’s meanings are also contingent on it’s contexts ;
particularly in modern times, when the word “text” is said
to have already replaced the concept of the “work” when
referring to literature.
 In this lesson’s story from Cebu by fictionist
Temistokles Adlawan, we are shown not just life in
streets, but life in the streets as most probably as
experienced by Adlawan himself.

The story, considered on it’s own, already articulates

experiences that hark back to a universal conflict  the
endless struggle between the old and new.
ONE DAY ON THE ROAD
Temistokles M. Adlawan
 The last passenger has gotten off, an old woman
carrying a basket, and now I’ve mind to turn back and go
the way I came.

I’m glad to note that the road is clear on both sides it
would be a cinch to turn back. But an empty tricycle
drives up behind me and positions to make a u-turn, with
the intention, I gather, to go back the same way it came,
pick up any passengers on the way back to town to the
parking place.
 My elation quickly fades, overruled by another feeling
one of disappointment. If I go on back as I had
planned and Inting-Sana’s son is going to do the same
thing  any driver would, and as I often hear this told
among drivers themselves we would be racing each
other down that road, a race to pick up passengers and I
am not sure there’d be any this time. Or if there are, how
many would there be?
 At the same time it occurs to me that on one hand , I
could choose not to turn back. Let Inting-Sana’s son go
ahead for I certainly won’t allow him to get better of
me on the road  I myself will drive farther up this road
to Sitio Buwabog.

I got to Sitio Inamo-an first, therefore I should be first

on that road back to town. This is an unwritten rule
among tricycle drivers.
 On this consideration, I decided to turn around. I figure
if there are no other tricycles plying the road ahead, I
could pick up a few fares at the corner waiting shed of
Soton.

During on low speed, I feel easy, light, comfortable,

enjoying the wind generated by the velocity of the
motorcycle, although my skin is still pricking to the bite
of the early afternoon heat.
 From whistling, I soon find myself singing la-la-la-la
and hu-hum-hu-hum, an old love song in English,
Brenda Lee’s “Losing You”, a song I love very much, I
use to sing it everywhere I went. I fell in love with a lot of
women, wooed them for their love, serenaded them, and
all of them rejected me, so that now, all I could do is rue
my loss, and express my longing for them with this song
that tells about lost love.

All this, while I believe myself to be well ahead, I

glance at my left side mirror to check. I clung my tongue
at what I see. “This devil of a kid, he’s after me fast.” I
feel threatened in my hope to pick up fares in the Soton
waiting shed.
 There’s still room on the gas, but I desist from using it,
first, it would not be easy to maneuver a vehicle running
on three wheels, a little mistake, and it’s the hospital, if
not the cemetery, for the unfortunate; second, I feel the
stress of the machine, it could overheat; third, I’m still
slightly ahead of Sherwin, I’m close to the Soton waiting
shed, and I’m planning to slow down in case of there are
passengers.

When I am close enough to them, I recognize the girl

as the sexy one I glimpsed a few days ago.
“ Do Sherwin, they're yours.” Sherwin does not answer
but I believe he would stop to pick them up.

Well I’m wrong! He tails me, like a shadow refusing to

leave my back, he doesn’t stop. Suspicion rises in me
he’s not racing me for passengers after all, he wants a
contest, machine against machine to find out which one
is stronger, faster. I am suddenly afraid.

Sherwin is speedster, not only on the tricycle but also

on habal-habal.
 I know there are craters on the cement road near the
waiting shed, and I figure that these large vehicles will
be on me on this bad patch of road, so I left off on the
gas. But Sherwin, unmindful it seems, of the cracks
paving, unmindful of the approaching trucks, storms past
me.

Catching a glimpse of three fares, all young women,

getting out of the waiting shed and signaling Sherwin to
stop. But Sherwin doesn’t stop for them, and now I’m
pretty sure of it, he’s out for a race, machine agaisnt
machine to prove which one is more powerful. He’s not
racing me for passengers!
 Loser, huh! This is Miguel who’s lived long enough in
this world, man of experience, a man who knows a lot,
all through his own efforts, even if he’s a dropout. Will he
allow a mere high school kid to beat him? This thought
is going on inside me.

At this point this is not a fight machine to machine, this

is a fight for pride.
 There was a dump truck that Sherwin and I
encountered, and after I had overtaken him, I also tried
to overtake and old, slow moving jeep but I hit it with my
sidecar. I lost control of the tricycle which swung and
lurched to the side of the road. A good thing the owner of
the jeep stopped, and Sherwin himself also slowed
down and stepped on the brake, not following what I did.

Everyone who’s there is saying the same thing, “Pride,

pride got the better of you. Lucky thing you were flung
from your tricycle to this soft plowed soil.
 Marginal Notes

Miguel’s point of view is what we refer to as limited, since

it only sees things based on it’s perception.

First Person – the “I” narrator; necessarily limited and

subjective
Second Person – a perspective not often used, where the
viewpoint character (and in affect, the reader ) is
referred to as “you.”
Third Person – comparatively objective point of view; able
to get the minds of all the characters
Also this story follows a conventional plot pattern that recalls
the classical narrative structure.

Exposition – introduces the characters, the setting and the

circumstances of the story
Rising Action – escalates the circumstances into a conflict
or tension
Climax – the point where the conflict or tension explodes or
heightens
Denouement – where the action subsides from the climax
and issues get disentangled
Resolution – the story concludes in view of a transformation
or insight from the character, or for the reader
 The Concise Oxford Dictionary of Literary Terms defines
context as “those parts of a text preceding and following
any particular passage, giving it meaning fuller or more
identifiable than it were read in isolation.
 Pitstop

The story provides more dimensions of street life by using

local color. The device of local color is generally used in
fiction not merely as an adornment to the story, but as a
reiteration of verisimilitude and probability. This means
that specific details are placed because they enhance
the reality crafted by the story.

Locality is also very much related to particularity, to the

specificity of things, and the story operates on a very
particular and specific experience oftentimes ignored
because of its ordinariness.
 Markers
External Qualities – the physical attributes, get-up, or
mannerisms of a character, as described by the narrator
Internal Qualities – manifested through dialogue,
motivation, and action
Local Color – specific details are placed because they
enhance the reality crafted by the story
Point of View – the perspective from which we are being
told the story
Plot – basically the movement of a narrative
Context – parts of a text preceding and following a
passage, giving it fuller meaning than if it were read by
itself
Configure
Temistokles Adlawan and Cebuano Street Life

A bisdak ( bisayang dako, or “big bisaya” born and

raised, true blue bisaya), Temistokles hails from
Pangdan, Naga, Cebu, and is a prolific poet and
fictionist. Adlawan has two other stories that deal with
life on the road. “Tingog sa Kitarang Bagol” (Sound of
the Coconut Shell Guitar) and “Lumba” (The Race).
 Adlawan wrote about the plight of his tricycle-loving
figures, these kings of the Cebuano road, if only to
reiterate and validate their experiences in the face of the
“alienating consequences” of increasing urbanism.

Its Own Center: Cebuano Literature

Cebuano has vigorously shaped its literature, and

through these, constantly articulated its cultural identity
despite the domination of the Tagalog Center.
 Cebuano literature evolved alongside other regional
literatures, taking on layers upon layers of colonization,
as well as innovations, as it engaged with its
surroundings.

The magazine Bisaya continues to be popular despite

what Alburo decribed as “the rise in prestige of English
and later Tagalog.”