Sounding off on Philippine Fiction

I was going to write about the Philippine Specfic issue, thanks to the links provided by Kenneth Yu and Bhex, but it careened into something entirely different. Sorry guys, suffer my verbiage for a while. Also, the “you” I talk about here is always, always a generic “you” unless otherwise indicated.

*drawsbreath*

Okay, the first part, addressing the issue. As a long-time reader of fanfiction, of course I believe that people have the right to write whatever the hell they want. That is why I occupy myself with reading stories about anorexic Japanese boybands (many months before, that time was spent on reading stories about a cantankerous Diagnostics doctor and his love for the Department of Oncology head). But this isn’t exactly the kind of fiction we are talking about, is it? Azerbaijani detectives and yuki-onnas in Neptune are all well and good, but are you really going to write something like it and declare it Filipino? Really, really? If I write, say, Naruto fanfiction, I wouldn’t do it with the intention of declaring it as Philippine Fanfiction. If ever get the urge, I’d probably choose a fandom closer to home. Like, you know, Encantadia. Or Noli Me Tangere.

This might sound Machiavellian but you do have to tailor your means to whatever end you envision. If your intention is only for lolz, that’s great, be sure to send the fiction my way. I am of the school that believes in LOLZ as the ultimate source of subversion. But if your great over-arching project is the creation of a benchmark in Philippine Speculative Fiction, you’ve got to invest some braincells into determining its nature and parameters. And you should be willing to take on the responsibility for it.

That’s not to say that fiction, to be distinctive of that nation, should be serious or even earnest. And by all means, plunder all the cultures you can think of to achieve it. Case in point: Gankutsuou. It’s basically a futuristic retelling of “The Count of Monte Cristo” with mecha robots and inappropriate boy-touching. The characters all speak in Japanese, though it is set in Paris, with occasional trips to outer space. I love this anime, particularly because they turn the original Dumas novel on its head. They impose their own paradigms, their own mores, on the original text and come up with an entirely different animal. A hybrid, so to speak.

If you go with Charles’ interpretation of Bhex’s post, something like Gankutsuou would be anathema. Or at least, it shouldn’t be labeled as Japanese. But it isn’t like that at all. The whole series reeks of the creator’s culture. And it’s not just the mecha that makes it Japanese, it’s the way they re-fashioned the plot which included the special brand of wackiness only the Japanese can create. From where I’m sitting, Bhex did not give a fundamentalist declaration of “what Philippine Spec Fic OUGHT to be.” She simply recognizes that appending those two words, “Philippine” and “Speculative” limits the field in a finite way, and goes on to posit her own boundaries. If you’re going to append those two words in the crap you write, then accept its ramifications. And shit, what’s wrong with asking for Tagalog science fiction? Of course, if it ever exists, it should be evaluated by its quality and not by the fact that it’s science fiction and written in Tagalog. But wouldn’t it be awesome if there was something like that?

I have no ready answers for the definition of “Philippine Spec Fic” but I do demand something substantial from the writers who are attempting it. There are a lot of books in the world, no need to waste my time with something insipid. This of course, comes from the point of view of a reader and an officious one at that. But I will say this: I want you, Writer, to write stories that strip away layers of myself and expose them to the light. Everything about me–culture, nationality, gender, religion–I want it all spilled on a page. I don’t care what conceit you use (or cosmetics, as Dean Alfar called it), but you do it, preferably with imagery that slays.

(Please the reader or die, ahaha.)

Personally, I think the key to the creation of Philippine Speculative Fiction is re-appropriation. I effing love that word. Our colonizers appropriated us first, molding us into an image that they felt comfortable with. We were the passive, indolent indios who weren’t smart enough to read social contracts and therefore not worthy of so noble a thing as freedom. Then we became those sorry savages who needed to be “benevolently assimilated.” It’s now our turn to appropriate, grab back the missing pieces of ourselves. Steal the histories denied of us, and if there is nothing left of it, take whatever that we find. Attack, plunder, and sail off with the spoils. (Forgive me, Talk Like a Pirate Day had lingering effects.) We may not be able to do that with physical artifacts, but through creative re-imagination, through writing ourselves, we can invent our past and our future into something distinctively ours.

Now for the matter of language. Jesus Christ on a cornfield.

Let me just say this, once and for all: Being unable to write in Filipino is not a virtue, stop treating it like one. If you don’t want to apologize for it, that’s fine, I don’t think you should. But the inability to string a decent Tagalog sentence on paper does not mean you are automatically a great writer in English.

It’s hardly fair to compare the change in Filipino language with that of English. The English language might be evolving quickly, but it’s not atrophying due to it’s people’s apathy, the way I sometimes feel it is with our languages. Because we don’t use them, certain words disappear. How many languages in different Philippine regions are lost to oblivion, either because people did not write it down or the document were destroyed by hostile aggressors? Benedict Anderson has said that ones language is the cornerstone of a nation. What does that say about us, with our collective amnesia?

Our history has always been a story of loss. Ambeth Ocampo has written an article about “unwritten Filipino books” in his opinion column and it’s staggering, how many narratives we can never retrieve. Do you know that aside from documents and letters, there are only three memorabilia from Andres Bonifacio’s early life that still survives? According to Adrian Cristobal’s “Tragedy of the Revolution,” a great fire swept Tondo in 1896 and burned all of Andres and Gregoria’s possessions. The only evidences Bonifacio’s life that were left were a telegram from an English company Fressel and Co., an unfinished baston that Andres himself crafted, and a dessert plate they lent to an aunt. Knowing this makes me want to weep. Language is even more ephemeral, especially if it’s not set on paper.

Going about it like things like these things don’t matter–it’s an attitude that I frankly find disdainful. As if the loss of a language (or one’s proficiency with it) is trifling and incidental. As if the erasure of words, narratives, and myths is something to be taken lightly. I am a much better writer in English than in Filipino, and you know what? I mourn that. The (bad) poetry I’ve written in Filipino fills me with despair because it feels borrowed, artificial. Isn’t that a kind of mockery, perceiving as strange something that should have been a part of you? Our history is characterized by waves of violence, including the history of our language. Reading people so cavalier about it–let’s just say it just leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

Bienvenido Lumbera said in a RoD interview that identity is not clothing that you can take off and put back on, depending on convenience. It’s something that you continuously search and invent, so you might as well do it in your fiction. Write about your country and what you feel about it, whether it’s love, apathy or revulsion. And stop tiptoeing around the issue in the guise of “internationalism” or “open-mindedness.” What kind of a writer are you, if you choose not to be conflicted? I like to read because literature gives me painful questions that cannot be answered by pithy one-liners and I appreciate a writer who does not shirk from that. Fiction has no room for emotional cowards.

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September 24, 2007 Written by: giyenah | Filed Under Latest, Miscellany, Reading

Comments

5 Responses to “Sounding off on Philippine Fiction”

jon on September 25th, 2007 1:50 am

There is one sci fi short story written in Filipino that I remember. I came out in Liwaway. the story was about a Filipino family that migrated to an alien planet. The story was about Christmas and the alien race also celebrates an almost similar celebration, their savior born at the same day as Christ did.
giyenah on September 25th, 2007 7:02 am

Thanks, for the heads up jon. Would you happen to remember the writer or the title? That sounds interesting.

Also, I’d like to know your opinions on that story? How was the quality? Maybe you should air your thoughts as well, tell the people what worked and what didn’t. ^_^
bhex on September 25th, 2007 7:28 am

jon: i used to be an avid reader of liwayway magasin, and i’m sorry to have missed that story! i’d love it too if you could somehow find the title and author again

i really miss liwayway magasin. i don’t see it on newsstands anymore and i’ve heard it’s no longer circulating.

giyenah: when i was a kid, there was a whole bunch of tagalog-language science fiction and horror komiks out in the market. although there were more vastly more fantasy-oriented and realist-style drama/comedy komiks, the SF and horror ones were there, and they were being read. my mother remembers that when she was young, there was even more of them.

granted that some of the stories there MAY have been lifted from non-pinoy sources, i’m quite sure those komiks served as vehicles for inventive pinoy science fiction writers, too. it’s just sad that these days, just because english is more accessible and “in,” a lot of writers who are more comfortable with their local languages than with english are losing their avenues.
jon on September 25th, 2007 9:08 am

Sorry, I can’t remember the title and the author. It was too long ago in my youth when I first read it. but it struck me the most was it was released on Liwayway and they don’t usually publish stories of that genre. All I can say that it was the a very good attempt of sci-fi prose I read in Filipino. I liked it and it made me imagine of other alien races that God might have appeared. That may be were not the only one saved. The writer was able to blend Christianity and sci-fi very naturally.
In komiks, the sci-fi stories I remember are the stories of DAX in Funny Komiks and a green android with big ears with superhuman abilities and give pleasure to women (I forgot the title).
Anton on September 30th, 2007 5:37 pm

The important thing to consider is the term “speculative.” To speculate means “to think over possibilities.” If there are no constraints to these possibilities, then speculative fiction can refer to any type of fiction. In which case, any debate on the meaning of speculative fiction is meaningless, never mind Philippine speculative fiction.

If these possibilities are constrained to historical realities that may have taken place (e.g., Britain stays on in the Philippines and the Spaniards never return) then one can call this genre “alternate history.” If one imagines ancient gods taking control of the region, then that’s fantasy. If one imagines the Philippines not giving in to IMF-WB restrictions and eventually becomes a superpower nation, and from which we develop a space age consisting of Filipino space explorers, then that’s alternate history and science fiction. If one imagines a small Filipino barrio where it rains flowers everyday, then that’s marvelous realism. In which case, given different possibilities and constraints, the term “speculative fiction” is meaningless.

What about “Philippine”? In literary studies, the label is usually applied to literary works where a Philippine local language is used or the author is generally recognized as a Filipino, whether through his citizenship or ancestry. Thus, Jessica Hagedorn’s novel is part of Philippine literature.

What, then, is Philippine speculative fiction? If there is no agreement on constraints to possibilities mentioned earlier, then it refers to any fictional work written by authors recognized as Filipinos or written in a Philippine local language.