Kumusta ka jan sa Norte? Random: alam mo bang may aklat ng mga tula na galing sa lalawigan mo? Ay kainaman nga! Kailangan ko lagi ng Diksyunaryong Pilipino para lang malaman ang kahulugan ng mga parirala at saknong. Na-realize ko lalong wala akong probinsya. Pinanganak sa Pasay, nag-aral sa Makati, nagta-trabaho sa Taguig, at kasalukuyang nakatira sa Pasig. Mga probinsyudad noong dekada nobenta na naging melting pot ng wika at mga memes at code-switches.
Pero sa koleksyon na ito, parang akong bumalik sa high-school required reading na may trabaho ang paghahanap sa kaluhugan ng mga talinghaga. Bigyan kita ng sampol:
—
POSIBILIDAD (ni Brixter Tino)
Paano mabalangkas ang paglansag ng tanaw, ang dungis at ang duklay ng diwarang dahilan?
—
Mga kelangan ng diksyonaryo — lansag, duklay, diwara. Tatlong salitang hindi ginagamit sa NCR. Ay kainaman! (sabi nga ni Mama, ang Batangueña)
Pag-unawa sa metapora (ang galing, pwede palang tula form ang mga tanong sa buhay!) — I digress, bobo ako sa tula at ito ang unang impression: “Paano raw isusuma ang watak-watak na mga pananaw at ang rawness (the “dungis”) at ang hifalutin (the “duklay”) na mga mabusising reasoning (ng tao ito siguro?).” Through possibilities. Galing!!!
Maganda ang mga berso ng tula, pero ang ariba ng diwa, napakatagal. Kaya nakakasura siyang basahin. Pwede talaga ito sa mga estudyanteng sadyang nag-aaral ng linggwistika, or may oras na maghanap sa diksyunaryo, or people who are naturally curious about the work. Sabi ng maraming kumento at blurb sa libro, magaling si Brixter kasi naipon niya lahat ito (at medyo na-intimidate ako sa uniqueness ng #danas niya dito sa kamaynilaan; polarizing kami kasi taal ako ng 🎵🎶 Mahal kong Maynila~🎵🎶).
Actually, malapit na ang Book Talakayan namin dito, July 19 na, sa PUP! Kung bababa ka, magsama ka ng mga friends o bisitahin mo yung Pinoy Reads Pinoy Books tas catch-up naman tayo. Tungkol sa wika o memes o anumang ganap ng mga kanya-kanyang lovelife kineso haha!
Hopefully maka-akyat ako jan at samahan mo naman ako mag-hike sa Ulap! See you uwu!!!
Last 22nd March, the Pinoy Reads Pinoy Books (PRPB) discussed Kaisa’s debut novel Isabela. To celebrate the Women’s month, #AbanteBabae was reinforced with a woman writer and a woman moderator tackling the heavy prose of the book; it’s fragmented realities and lost histories, together with the involvement of women in the movement, either directly or indirectly. Sheltered in the safe space of Quezon City Public Library, we made the discussion more friendly through the banters and jests, inviting the attendees to interject or ask follow-up questions as we go along the discussions.
We opened the BT with the introduction of everyone, knowing their names and their current activities, and who are their favorite Women Writers. Even though we are of less than 20 attendees, I was amazed that we have cited many women writers, echoing their contributions to the rich landscape of the Pinoy literary.
Kaisa, a profound Filipino word meaning “one with”, confessed that she is a 90’s kid, She explained that her name is merely a combination of two provinces — Cagayan and Isabela. With her name demystified, we also asked on how the interweaving stories came into life and how it was also blended together, crafting a composite novel from her years in her graduate school. “Thesis lang naman talaga ito eh,” she mentioned, but after the 7 years of writing grind and multiple workshops, she gave birth a tale of different women from the iterations of Isabela, overarching the theme of her hometown and its proximity from the three decades of insurgency in the countryside.
One of the questions I asked was “women and wounds”, and how Isabela’s multiple iterations received all forms of wounds — from a literal bullet, to the disappearances, to the loss of a husband, of a son, and of a father — and how they carry it through time, while coping and healing through different means. As a reader, I felt the heaviness of the prose. They carry the wounds and they keep on moving, continuing on the search and meaning, may it be a run for survival (from the military), a search for an alternative healing (tawa-tawa leaves) and a trail to summit (to see the purple hydrangeas). I even told Kaisa, “Sana ako na lang ang nasusugatan… kasi parang ang bigat na.” She answered back, “Ella, hindi ka ba nasusugatan?” Her reverse card question made me realize that I am also very much a wounded woman who soldiers on, the same with the characters in the novel.
Aside from the questions of themes, the winding narratives, and the execution of prose, the members also shared their reading experiences. CL mentioned how the multitude of characters and iterations were effectively executed. Kwesi asked about redefining the work from his first impression that Isabela is a collection of short stories. Jaffy digressed that maybe the novel is a proposed reality from the current socio-political climate we are in. Jayson shares that he sees the sentiments of regrets and its fragmented stories of struggle. Lawrence apologizingly confessed that he found the open-ended endings of each chapter difficult to ingest, a journey very challenging to trek because of the shifts of the point-of-view and genre of realism and magical realism. I guess his reading experience feels like a tiring hike, its summit filled with fog. Meanwhile, my reading experience feels like away from the mountains. I shared the metaphor of anchorage and voyage via the novel’s prologue and ending; a ship lifting its anchors (the norms imposed on women), readying itself for another journey (of going home).
Miss Thelma, a retired teacher and a guest of our Book Talakayan, did not ask Kaisa any questions about the latter’s craft and poetics, but thanked her instead. She was grateful that someone has written about her province. In her mellow voice, she told us that their shared hometown is filled with stories of beauty and activism and after a long time, Kaisa was able to put them in paper.
The final question came from Rikkimar, a PNU student. “Paano natin mailalapit ang akda sa mga taong malayo sa danas ng nasa libro?” To which Billy jokingly answered, “Eh di ipabasa mo.” And I believe Kaisa agreed, because one way to reach the other’s heart is through a shared experience and building through a community of reading.
I ended the #BookTalakayan citing this page 77 of Isabela, its prose a perfect description of a suspended reality:
“Ka Abel says that they’re here. This is the place. Just as they cross over the bend of the meadow, without warning whatsoever, the landscape changes, as if a cloth lifts, and all they can now see are the purple hydrangeas. They are all suddenly still, stunned by the unreal view, like a fantasy. The world tilts heavily as they take in the whole landscape. It’s marvelous.”
A day after, I still remember the echoes and sighs of this discussion I moderated. And I realized, this book club can appreciate the stillness of beauty among the chaos of the mad world.
Last Saturday, September 28, Pinoy Reads Pinoy Books (PRPB) discussed the Glenn Diaz’s second book, Yñiga for our Book Talakayan for the month. A contrast from the previous months, the book was a bit heavier on theme and discussion was done more intimately. Nontheless, we were able to spark the interest of our new book club attendess to chime in and get personal with the author about how he created the novel, its underlying themes and the process of building its series of events. We held the discussion in Harong Cafe, the headquarters of the Human Rights and People Empowerment Center (HRPEC).
We opened the discussion with the introduction of the new joiners, letting them say their horoscope signs and names of their pets if they have one. Like Yñiga who leans more on the horoscope, I prefer to know the demographics of the attendess so that I can leverage the temperament of the discussion.
The first question that comes to mind: how did the book emerge? Glenn answered that his second book is a manuscript out of his doctorate thesis from University of Adelaide, proving that the forest can be a setting, a novel’s design, and a device of discourse about the deep-rooted history of social activism, counter-insurgency, and our personal and collective traumas. “It’s like another thesis defense again!” Glenn gasped, as he talked about the Qualitative and the Academic nuances of the novel before traversing the creative pursuit. As an accountant with no experience in presenting qualitative thesis, I found this fascinating.
Unlike the first novel focusing on interweaving narratives, Yñiga focused more on the interweaving of timelines and in its spiral prose style. Glenn honestly mentioned about the thought process of trauma, quoting Lenin, “one step forward, two steps back.” The discussion was like paving a new walking path to the forestry of Glenn’s fiction, as Yñiga’s winding narrative requires patient exploration. Readers have to weave through the long paragraphs and sentences that doesn’t explicitly show if one is an internal dialogue or otherwise. Glenn trusted the readers to navigate the slow-burn prose. He candidly said, “Yñiga is like an edging reading experience”. When asked about memorable scenes, Glenn was personally proud of the “sepia moments”: those cinematic shots of Yñiga’s childhood flashing forward to her present, minutes before the suspense.
The members asked and commented about a different take of feminism in the novel; how the women were very much involved in the community and how it pales their personal relationships. Jayson also mentioned that despite Yñiga being an unlikeable character and being distant to the events that go on around her, and yet it contrasts to the lyrical beauty of the prose. Julian, an editor, mentioned about the sense of community in one of the important events of the novel. Perry asked about Glenn’s experience of putting a logical discourse to a craft seamlessly as this was manifested in the novel. Krystine, a new attendee, asked about the impression of using English as the main language of the novel as this would cater foreign readers more than to fellow Filipinos. Capping the discussion, Kwesi asked what’s next for Glenn, what are some of the project/s he is working on, or if he will write a novel in Filipino.
I closed the Book Talakayan with a jest of the “and so on and so forth”, Glenn’s inflections as a podcast co-host. Some picture-taking and book signing came after. In my mind, this quote from his other work When the World Ended I Was Thinking About The Forest resonated with the day’s book discussion, “I think what I’m trying to do is turn the uncertainty into a clearing; the terror, into a project. (A kaingin.)”
mariaellabetos.com 