All the ghosts of my race sighing

December began with two ekphrastic collections by Marne Kilates and will end with a (likely unfinished, surely on-repeat) volume of Cirilo Bautista’s poetry. During this sort of shift, devices and conceits are thrown into stark contrast, one poet immediately (naturally? necessarily?) becomes intertext to the other. 

As I neared the fiftieth page, Bautista takes over completely. Kilates still makes his presence felt, but in another room, rustling and bumping about, not a bother. Bautista provides light here, the sound and the vibe.

It’s the third time I encountered his “Athens, Ohio, One Winter Night”. He read it during a PEN meeting years ago, on the third floor of Manong’s Solidaridad bookshop (these details are so fuzzy, forgive me). Elmer Ordoñez almost immediately published it in the Sunday Times Magazine. Both of these are, likely, the second version. I say likely as I remember the electric blanket, not the lovers, but this is just me, my memory failing. I have the STM page stashed somewhere, but I recall (correctly, I hope) the poem taking up significant print space, and the second version is 70-line strong compared to the first’s reported 17. I say reported, as when I wanted to refresh my memory, I went search engine, and, lo, here’s Marne Kilates on Marjorie Evasco on Cirilo Bautista and the two versions of his Athens.

The poem begins with these three lines: “You never loved me,” a boy outside my window / shouted, breaking the cold crystal night. / “Why should I love you?” a girl shouted back. 

The poet overhears, obsesses, marking himself immediately as other in terms of age, race, wisdom, and passion. As I re-encounter the poem, I move as Cirilo’s other (not entirely oppositional, and not in similar categories or degrees), the first version of myself as listener/reader of the then very much alive Cirilo by now also distant, maybe as today’s I will be to an older, less or more interested, future reader.

I will likely return to these paragraphs to edit (Christmas dinner and a makeshift photobooth are already set downstairs). Above, I concealed my discomfort toward certain conceits that Bautista and Kilates display along with most other Filipino writers, myself included. Maybe when I’m stronger I will share my thoughts. The title though—2/3rds of a line from  “Athens, Ohio, One Winter Night”—will remain untouched.

Talk

Putting the blog on hold until I’m done with this.

As of now, about fifty people are going. The emcee has confirmed, poster’s up, national anthem’s ready. I have soft copies of the stories to be discussed if you’re interested, please send a message or e-mail.

Acuña, Arbeen R. “Entry Taken From The Encyclopaedia of Biomechanical Convertebrates.” In The Anthology of New Philippine Writing in English: Kritika Kultura Literary Supplement 1. 2011: 89-96.

Angeles, Kathleen Siena A. “Mga Tala ukol sa Sakit ni Mama ayon sa Kanyang mga Sintomas.” In Eskapasismo. Unpublished thesis. March 2012: 59-87.

Bautista, Kevin Moses E. “Flights.” The Sunday Times Magazine. 22 Jan 2012: B4.

Solacito, Riena Marie L. “Pader.” In Ang Pagtatapos. Unpublished thesis. March 2012: 33-45.

The paper will be revised following relevant feedback from the reactor and the open forum. Revision should be ready about a month after the forum. You may have that as well.

Annotation 3: Bautista’s “Flights”

Agents of the show “Ang Munting Hiling” negotiated with Brian Justimbaste for the revision of his wishlist. He agrees to this, gives in until nothing of his wishlist remains and he gets a package completely decided by the show:

“See, this skydiving deal we have includes a full-body massage and spa, a gift check from Uranus Tiles (because “a world without floors is a world without doors”) and an extra parachute!”

His character, details of his past, and even his recent choices get revised in the course of representation—

The man told me the synopsis of my 60-minute exposure: I committed suicide (but failed). Prior to that a colleague wrote this letter to Ang Munting Hiling about my “unfulfilled desires”, the intersections of which is this girl, Julie, which I didn’t know (in real life). She had slapped me in the face, had left a number of death threats, a rabid dog, poignant receipts, etc. on my doorstep. This colleague wanted me to experience the “thrill” of life away from binge drinking, drugs, and whatnot. The neighbor, Aling Luz, which has been my neighbor only when there was fire (every three months) within two blocks from my street, will act as my confidante about this girl, Julie. Aling Luz, in a certain interview, would say something about my being a “Christ-centered”, “loving”, “fastidious”, “incisive” and “diffident” person. 

—and one wonders if it was for this very reason that Brian entered himself into the contest, as if the failed attempt at self-annihilation could somehow be corrected (or extended) by the doubling of the self. As the paragraph reveals, his act and manner of telling the story enriches this doubled image. For instead of telling his life himself, Brian opts to convey what the agent conveys about how the show of his life will play out. There are at least two contesting (but also: complicit) ways of mediation: the show’s use of Brian, and Brian’s use of the show.

One could make the case that this relay mirroring is perverse, a way of obscuring the self-image for the self without the luxury of averting one’s eyes. Be that as it may, this is no case of staring at the abyss but one of glimpsing it: as perhaps befits the briefness of the textual narrative as well as that of the exposure.

I would not make a case for his passivity, even if the story is one of giving up and giving in (perhaps also: of having been given up). As with the (possibly real) suicide attempt, this passivity is but Brian’s performance of himself. And the show bought it. The viewers will likely buy it.

It is also likely that Brian has pressed himself into buying it.

       ______________________________
[1] Bautista, Kevin Moses E. “Flights.” The Sunday Times Magazine. 22 Jan 2012: B4.
[2] Annotation 1.
[3] Annotation 2.

Annotation 2: Bautista’s “Flights”

Now that we’ve set up the contest between the reality TV genre and that of the short story [1] [2], we can deal with some specifics.

In the story, the behind-the-scenes is foregrounded, the show “Ang Munting Hiling” represented by the male crew rather than its metropolitan female host we see in “Wish Ko Lang”. After the first phone call, Brian Justimbaste meets two crewmen “with backpacks, a tripod, and each had a camera slung on their shoulders. They looked like they had two bottles of Red Horse on their way here.” It would turn out that they had each downed three.

The character is a nobody even in his own eyes but not a nobody in the sense that usually interests reality TV (ex: rural folk, or from the slums, a has-been who has drifted from the limelight to do someone else’s laundry, the sick or elderly, etc). Brian does seem to share something with the usual reality TV subject matter: estrangement from family. There’s only one mention of it in the story, when a crewman goes to the fridge and sees a frame on or near it:

“This your son?” he asked, his fingers touching the silver frame.

“That one’s me during my elementary recognition.”

We cannot automatically assume the presence of family in the photo. The father almost certainly isn’t on the frame, else the crewman would not have made the mistake (unless they look entirely alike, which is a possibility made possible by the visual gaps offered by written narrative). Maybe the mother’s in the frame. Maybe a parent, or other family member, took the shot. It’s also possible that they were all absent here, the photograph taken by the official photographer (cued, as it sometimes happens, by a small pinned ribbon on the Barong). The presence of this photograph (holding as it does these possibilities) could either be nostalgia for family or commemoration of its absence.

No activity from family members, and no mention. Even if the show did mention it, Brian does not when he recaps the show in the last paragraph. In this sense, the first person perspective serves the perfect lens: we get to see what Brian frames in and leaves out, how he chooses to see his life.

Choice figures also when the protagonist’s problem (what qualifies him for the show) is finally discussed:

He discussed everything about the trip this coming Sunday. They would feature me, Brian Justimbaste, 23, single, currently employed at San Gabriel Press, as someone who almost committed suicide. He said these in between sips of his coffee. 

I understand that this creates drama, which in turn would create sympathy from the viewers.

“Then we’ll be showing reenactments about the aforementioned suicide—may I ask which way would you prefer, if—”

“Drowning. I’ve always wanted to drown in a bathtub . . .”

Other than the form of suicide, or suicide in itself, the other choice here is whether or not to broadcast the “drama” at all, a choice to be made—with different though paired set of motives—by the program and its protagonist.

       ______________________________
[1] Bautista, Kevin Moses E. “Flights.” The Sunday Times Magazine. 22 Jan 2012: B4.
[2] Annotation 1.

Annotation 1: Bautista’s “Flights”

The quiet life of 23-year old Brian Justimbaste takes a curious turn when the crew of a reality TV show “Ang Munting Hiling” comes knocking on his door [1]. We are escorted to view the ugly and fascinating technicalities of human desire or, perhaps in this case, the mysterious the diminishment of it.

“Ang Munting Hiling” seems to have been patterned after shows such as “Wish Ko Lang,” a reality TV show that has been airing since 2012 [2] [3]. According to GMA: “Wish Ko Lang is the first wish-granting program on Philippine television, featuring inspiring stories of ordinary Filipinos as they struggle to overcome extraordinary situations.” Perhaps cuing a contest of narrative forms, Bautista does not begin the story of Brian with his extraordinary situation.

My knees ached from the long walk. All I saw was an uprooted tree. No sight of anybody walking. No traffic lights. I lit a cigarette from the stove. I didn’t open the cans of beer I bought from the convenience store. I dreamed of having a sweaty day from a mountain hike, a camp with five tents and a bonfire. Instead I watched a TV show about wish-fulfillment. The entire show ran and I didn’t notice myself trimming my fingernails. 

Three considerations to keep in mind while reading this story are the following: (a) the cue feelings formula of reality television, (b) this first paragraph of the story where Brian watches the show, and (c) towards the end where Brian depicts the finished product of his own 60 minutes of fame. The bulk of the story, however, is about the process Brian undergoes to become the topic of the show.

Two related mysteries here are the specifics of Brian’s “drama” and his motives for nominating himself to the show. Consider the paragraph following the nail clippings:

That night I lay on the sofa and preoccupied myself with the sound of cats scavenging my garbage bin outside. This made me write to the show, Ang Munting Hiling.

There is nothing extraordinary here, at least nothing reality TV would consider story-worthy. No extreme circumstance, no pressing need. Perhaps Brian considered that lack as itself profound, a matter of urgency. It could also be that the “This” here refers to what can’t be said, and was therefore left out. “Flights” itself would go into this only after three pages into the four-page story, allying itself to its protagonist preferred narrative pace rather than following the genre of reality television.

       ______________________________
[1] Bautista, Kevin Moses E. “Flights.” The Sunday Times Magazine. 22 Jan 2012: B4.
[2] Wish Ko Lang. GMA Network and Wikipedia. Accessed 15 Jan 2015.
[3] Reality television. Wikipedia. Accessed 16 Jan 2015.

Panganay

Ginising niya ako para tabihan siya ("kami ni Chim") sa pagtulog. Kinse minutos ito bago ang nakatakda sa aking alarm. Wala na pala silang katabi dahil inihatid na ng kanyang ninang at lola ang lolo sa trabaho nito sa Rizal. Sabi ko, teka lang ha, at ginising ko ang kanyang ina para tabihan siya. Tinapos ko ang ilang ehersisyong sasagutan ng mga estudyante mamaya tungkol sa mga kuwento nina Borges at Bautista. Malikhain ang ikalawang bahagi ng sesyon, bagay na hindi maiiwasan sapagkat iyon mismo ang kurso. "Patience is a virtue." "Bakit naglalaro na naman kayo ng laway? Gusto nyo paglaki nyo magi kayong kamel?" Kalahati siyang tulog, kalahating gising, at katabi na niya ang kanyang ina. Malamig ang dampi sa kanyang pisngi ng madaling araw. "Happy birthday, Elishamelt."