MANILA, Philippines - Before Emily Post and Miss Manners, there was Urbana at Feliza, an epistolary novel by Modesto de Castro, first published in Manila in 1864. The book influenced generations of Filipinos before and after the war on the niceties of social behavior.
To celebrate the 150th anniversary of the publication of the book and the 150th anniversary of the death of its author, the Far Eastern University (FEU) is hosting a conference titled Ang Tinig at Himig nina Urbana at Feliza: Iba’t ibang Dulog at Pagbasa on Sept. 12 and 13, at the Far Eastern University Conference Center, Morayta Campus. It is also staging a musical based on the novel, to be staged at the FEU Auditorium on Sept. 12, 13, 15 and 16. Titled #UrbanaAtFeliza, it promises to bring the literary classic up to date.
The novel is a series of letters, most of them written by Urbana, who is working as a teacher’s assistant in Manila, to her sister Feliza, who stays in their hometown Paombong, Bulacan, with their parents and a brother named Honesto (the inspiration for the soap opera Honesto?). The letters instruct Feliza (and Honesto through Feliza) on proper conduct in practically all spheres of life, from personal hygiene to courtship to table manners. The last might remind readers of Downton Abbey. Witness (in old Tagalog): “Cun darampót nang vaso nang tubig, ay tingnan muna cun malinis ang daliri, at nang di marumhan ang hahauacan; houag isusubo ang daliri sa loob, sapagca,t, cun maquita nang maselang matá, may mandidiri. Sa pag inóm, cun mangyayari ay gamitin ang dalauang camáy, ang mañga daliri ay sa dacong puno, houag ipapatong sa labi nang vaso ó saro at nang di casuclamán.”
Is such a work still relevant, a hundred and 50 years since its first publication? That was the question taken up at a press launch, held last Aug. 29 at FEU, by a panel of scholars and representatives from Naic, Cavite: National Artist for Literature Bienvenido Lumbera, fictionist Fanny Garcia, historian Ryan Sebastian and Fr. Virgilio Mendoza, parish priest at Naic, Cavite. Joining them were some faculty member of the FEU and Risalito Senia, city administrator of Naic.
Lumbera testified to the book’s influence. He had found the book “boring talaga” when he read it in school but realized later how much his childhood had been shaped by the book’s precepts. Garcia urged modern readers to engage in critical dialogue with the book, noting, for instance, that while the book is supposedly a conversation between women, it is the voice of the parish priest and his ideas that we hear. Both Fr. Mendoza and Sebastian noted the historical value of the book and its potential to address present concerns.
Taken in its historical context — the Philippines in the second half of the 19th century — the book is a provocative reflection of and on the times. As the panel pointed out, De Castro, at that time stationed in the Manila Cathedral, saw the need to instill urbanidad — that cluster of practices and ideas that covers etiquette, manners and civic virtues. From one point of view, urbanidad was a way of forming a docile colonial subject, one that had an unquestioning respect for authority (whether that be one’s elders or the state). From another, urbanidad was a way by which Filipinos could display themselves as “civilized” as any European and hence, worthy of respect (De Castro, the panel pointed out, was an indio).
At a time when the youth appear to be, in Garcia’s words, “desensitized by technology”— and if the current wave of teen movies based on “pop fiction” is any indication, she may be right — then perhaps it is time to revisit Urbana at Feliza, though with a critical eye. And with the elections just around the corner, here is Urbana on the matter of leadership: “Ang corona, camahalan at carañgalan, ang dapat humanap nang ulo na puputungan, at di ang ulo ang dapat humanap nang coronang ipuputong. Ang carañgalan, sa caraniuan, ay may calangcap na mabigat na catungculan, caya bago pahicayat ang loob nang tauo sa pagnanasa nang carañgalan, ay iliñgap muna ang mata sa catungculan, at pagtimbangtim, bañgin cun macacayanang pasanin.”
Sage advice, isn’t it, from a book that turns a hundred and 50 years old this year?