Rene Villanueva’s world of memories
March 13, 2005 | 12:00am
This Week’s Winner
R. Kwan Laurel is a doctoral student in the Department of English and Comparative Literature, College of Arts and Letters, University of the Philippines.
If you are a Filipino used to reading works written in English, there is no better time to read books written in Filipino than now. There is a flood of high quality and very readable books from our writers in Filipino, many of which we can be proud of. As a starter, for a book in Filipino that will be easy to read but by no means lightweight, hands down one must get a copy of Rene O. Villanueva’s Personal: Mga Saysay sa Lupalop ng Gunita. It is a collection of short essays that are easy, funny, enlightening, heartbreaking, and intelligent all at the same time.
Rene Villanueva is more popularly known as a playwright, the head writer of the defunct children’s television show Batibot, and a teacher. This collection of vignettes and short reflections about his life and people surrounding his life is staggering in its power. Villanueva’s book tells me that there may be a lot of problems, but there is almost nothing that cannot be surmounted by determination and a good sense of humor. If you are paralyzed by the problems of the country, or personal problems, get this book and you will be shamed into getting yourself moving towards a solution, or acceptance that there is no solution. Villanueva is an example of someone who has pulled himself out of what may seem like insurmountable odds to make his voice heard in a country mired in complex and difficult problems. His book will also tell you that the best of our literature cannot but win over the best of the literature written by Americans, or Latin Americans, or whoever is fashionable in the international literary circuit at the moment. There is no substitute to our own stories.
About his father:
Naglalakad kaming magkakaklase pauwi mula sa Ramon Magsaysay Elementary School. Kapag mula sa malayo’y natatanaw kong may kalsadang inaayos, bigla akong kakabahan. Nawawala ako sa kahit anong bagay na pinag-uusapan o pinagtatawanan ng mga kasabay kong naglalakad. Habang papalapit sa mga nagtatrabaho sa daan ay nagsismulang gumapang sa dibdib ko ang takot at hiya. Natatakot akong baka isa sa mga nagwawalis sa daan, nagbubuhos ng alkitran, o nagpapala ng bara sa kanal ang Tatay ko. Nahihiya akong matuklasan ng mga kaklase ko na ang sinasabi kong government employee ay empleyado nga ng gobyerno pero wala sa opisina at hindi nakaupo sa mesa habang nasa trabaho, kundi kasa-kasama ng mga piko, pala, walis-tingting at pandakot at kaulayaw ng alikabok, aspalto at burak sa imburnal.
Villanueva captures the reader’s attention in every page as he recounts the struggles of a boy who wants to make something out of his life. The complicated relationship between father and son takes on Herculean proportions, especially when a stroke leaves his father paralyzed and he has to regularly give him a bath while trying to earn a degree and earn some money. Both father and son cannot accommodate each other’s imperfections and selfishness, and yet they have no choice.
Villanueva expresses admiration for writers like Nick Joaquin and Gregorio Brillantes, but then these people have never lived the life he has lived. "Malayo ang mga iyon sa buhay na kinalakihan ko….Bakit nga ba laging mundo lang ng maykaya, marangal, matalino, at may kultura ang nasusulat at nalilimbag? Mayaman sa kuwento ang mahihirap, ang mga walang mataas na pinag-aralan, ang mga kapos sa sopistikasyon at urbanidad."
Indeed, there is no arguing that Villanueva succeeds with what he has set out to do. In the pages of this book, we get a picture of how it is to live in modern day Metro Manila: its poverty, destructiveness, callousness; as well as pockets of hope and friendship and endurance.
To earn money to support himself, crying becomes a part of his job of cleaning a church: "Nang lumaon, parang nagging bahagi na ng gawain ko ang pag-iyak sa pagkaawa sa sarili." Instead of the usual hi or hello from churchgoers who are mostly his friends, he is regularly congratulated by everyone for the cleanliness of the church: "Hindi ko alam kung matutuwa ako o maiiyak. Pinipilit ko na lamang na pagaanin ang aking mga hakbang para hindi makadagdag ang alikabok na dala-dala ko sa pinakintab kong semento."
Most of the essays are heart wrenching, but some of them are so painfully funny, to reveal their ending is to commit a crime. Read the essay entitled "Kapitan Mais." If you do not end up laughing, literature can never move you. Try something else: ballroom dancing, drag racing, but not reading. This collection should be read by anyone interested in Philippine life, Philippine literature, and Filipino languages. This is powerful stuff. You must read it!
R. Kwan Laurel is a doctoral student in the Department of English and Comparative Literature, College of Arts and Letters, University of the Philippines.
If you are a Filipino used to reading works written in English, there is no better time to read books written in Filipino than now. There is a flood of high quality and very readable books from our writers in Filipino, many of which we can be proud of. As a starter, for a book in Filipino that will be easy to read but by no means lightweight, hands down one must get a copy of Rene O. Villanueva’s Personal: Mga Saysay sa Lupalop ng Gunita. It is a collection of short essays that are easy, funny, enlightening, heartbreaking, and intelligent all at the same time.
Rene Villanueva is more popularly known as a playwright, the head writer of the defunct children’s television show Batibot, and a teacher. This collection of vignettes and short reflections about his life and people surrounding his life is staggering in its power. Villanueva’s book tells me that there may be a lot of problems, but there is almost nothing that cannot be surmounted by determination and a good sense of humor. If you are paralyzed by the problems of the country, or personal problems, get this book and you will be shamed into getting yourself moving towards a solution, or acceptance that there is no solution. Villanueva is an example of someone who has pulled himself out of what may seem like insurmountable odds to make his voice heard in a country mired in complex and difficult problems. His book will also tell you that the best of our literature cannot but win over the best of the literature written by Americans, or Latin Americans, or whoever is fashionable in the international literary circuit at the moment. There is no substitute to our own stories.
About his father:
Naglalakad kaming magkakaklase pauwi mula sa Ramon Magsaysay Elementary School. Kapag mula sa malayo’y natatanaw kong may kalsadang inaayos, bigla akong kakabahan. Nawawala ako sa kahit anong bagay na pinag-uusapan o pinagtatawanan ng mga kasabay kong naglalakad. Habang papalapit sa mga nagtatrabaho sa daan ay nagsismulang gumapang sa dibdib ko ang takot at hiya. Natatakot akong baka isa sa mga nagwawalis sa daan, nagbubuhos ng alkitran, o nagpapala ng bara sa kanal ang Tatay ko. Nahihiya akong matuklasan ng mga kaklase ko na ang sinasabi kong government employee ay empleyado nga ng gobyerno pero wala sa opisina at hindi nakaupo sa mesa habang nasa trabaho, kundi kasa-kasama ng mga piko, pala, walis-tingting at pandakot at kaulayaw ng alikabok, aspalto at burak sa imburnal.
Villanueva captures the reader’s attention in every page as he recounts the struggles of a boy who wants to make something out of his life. The complicated relationship between father and son takes on Herculean proportions, especially when a stroke leaves his father paralyzed and he has to regularly give him a bath while trying to earn a degree and earn some money. Both father and son cannot accommodate each other’s imperfections and selfishness, and yet they have no choice.
Villanueva expresses admiration for writers like Nick Joaquin and Gregorio Brillantes, but then these people have never lived the life he has lived. "Malayo ang mga iyon sa buhay na kinalakihan ko….Bakit nga ba laging mundo lang ng maykaya, marangal, matalino, at may kultura ang nasusulat at nalilimbag? Mayaman sa kuwento ang mahihirap, ang mga walang mataas na pinag-aralan, ang mga kapos sa sopistikasyon at urbanidad."
Indeed, there is no arguing that Villanueva succeeds with what he has set out to do. In the pages of this book, we get a picture of how it is to live in modern day Metro Manila: its poverty, destructiveness, callousness; as well as pockets of hope and friendship and endurance.
To earn money to support himself, crying becomes a part of his job of cleaning a church: "Nang lumaon, parang nagging bahagi na ng gawain ko ang pag-iyak sa pagkaawa sa sarili." Instead of the usual hi or hello from churchgoers who are mostly his friends, he is regularly congratulated by everyone for the cleanliness of the church: "Hindi ko alam kung matutuwa ako o maiiyak. Pinipilit ko na lamang na pagaanin ang aking mga hakbang para hindi makadagdag ang alikabok na dala-dala ko sa pinakintab kong semento."
Most of the essays are heart wrenching, but some of them are so painfully funny, to reveal their ending is to commit a crime. Read the essay entitled "Kapitan Mais." If you do not end up laughing, literature can never move you. Try something else: ballroom dancing, drag racing, but not reading. This collection should be read by anyone interested in Philippine life, Philippine literature, and Filipino languages. This is powerful stuff. You must read it!
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