Traditionalism, Newness and Plain Out Common Sense.
Working on definitions, setting boundaries and establishing purposes for art has always been a messy business. In her work A Natural History of the Senses, Diane Ackerman vividly describes sight, smell, taste, touch and hearing — she also emphasizes the fact that no matter what we may think, no one person can sense things or experience the world the same way. This may be the reason why art and the artistic experience is so difficult to encapsulate — all artists and writers seem to make a conscious attempt portraying different aspects of life on canvas, paper and the like for others to see. They are always out to show us how the particular way in which they see and experience the world, and they make use of a great many mediums to do so.
If we’re to follow that line of thought, it’s easy to see how certain artistic traditions, trends and philosophies developed. Romantics devoted themselves to trumpeting the beauty of life and feeling. Realists were obsessed with details, as they sought to to portray “reality” as accurately as possible through their fiction. It doesn’t take much effort to see patterns behind some of the movements, and critics have worked long and hard to group these together even if definitions tend to be unwieldy and self-defeating. They also struggle to do the same for defining a medium and its different components. The end result is always the same — a name, a vague definition and a list of very general characteristics. Frustrating? Maybe. But necessary. We can always harp on why we bother with it, but at the end of the day I think it’s a rhetorical question. Without definitions, nothing would make sense, and everything can be regarded the same way. And that’s impossible, because it’s been proven time and again that all works of art have some sort of logic to it, and that all trends and traditions may share a FEW similarities but are ultimately separate from each other.
What am I basically saying here? Let me put it this way: you and I both know that apples and oranges are fruits, but we wouldn’t even consider calling apples “oranges” or oranges “apples” — or at least, on a normal day, we wouldn’t.
Anyway, it’s commonly understood that apples and oranges are two different fruits, just in the same way that a Romantic work is NOT a Realist work, or that a poem is NOT a work of prose, and so on. You can’t define them in the same fashion, just as you can’t appreciate them in the same fashion, or — heaven forbid — critique them in the same fashion.
Many people insist that traditionalists always thoughtlessly reject “avant-garde” works: they move on to lament over how traditionalists fail to understand what newness contributes to the world of art, and how they refuse to let art evolve because they are being “too close-minded” about it. I will be the first to admit that there may be times when this really is the case, but if you carefully study their reasons for “rejecting” some of the newer contributions, it’s because these so-called “new works of genius” haven’t done anything more than compromise the medium in question. It’s a classic case of shooting in the dark: they’re firing their guns, but they don’t know where they’re aiming, or what they’re shooting at. Sometimes, they don’t even know why.
Let’s zone in on something a bit more specific. A particularly hot issue in pop culture is the idea of comics and sequential art. Sequential art is pretty much self-explanatory: it is a body of works that put visual ideas in sequence to describe a process or tell a story. Comics, then, is a type of sequential art. Not all sequential art, however, can be regarded as comics. If that was the case, then even ancient cave paintings in French caves would be comics. The printing manual that I have sitting on the desk beside me would be a comic. My 2-year-old niece’s picture books would be comics. Cave paintings, Printing manuals and picture books tell stories, one may argue, but I challenge that same person to explain to me how they could be regarded the same way we regard those three-panel funnies in Sunday newspapers. or on a larger scale, works from companies like DC, Marvel and Vertigo.
Some of you may think that I’m being too conservative when I describe it like this, but I beg to differ. If there’s one thing I learned as a major in Literature, a reader (and lover) of books and as a self-styled fictionist, it’s that there is a subtle but extremely important difference between “expanding” a medium or art tradition and compromising what it is or what it stands for. Yes, it’s important to introduce new elements to art so that it will evolve. Yes, it’s important to push the limits and explore different possibilities. But if one does not understand what they’re working with in the first place, one may find it rather difficult to know exactly what they are doing, much less receive acclaim or acceptance from a general audience. As my Creative Writing professors always tell budding young writers: “It’s good to experiment and try new things, but you have to know what you’re breaking before you break it.”
Shintaro Kago: Panelling Experimentation and Bizarre Manga
Comics have gone a long way from single-frame editorial cartoons and the three-panel funnies on Sunday newspapers or in Bazooka Joe bubblegum wrappers. We’ve seen our favorite superheroes evolve with the times, we’ve seen the packaging transform from limited edition serial issues to fashionable trade paperbacks, and we’ve seen comics cover a wide range of topics and ideas that creators and readers of the past would have never considered as suitable for the medium.
Comic artists and writers continuously strive to break new boundaries with the art, and one of the possible ways to do it is to experiment with the way it’s presented. One of the best (and strangest) example that I’ve seen of this is in the works of manga artist Shintaro Kago. He is best known for his short work “Punctures” which was featured in Secret Comics Japan.

Mr. Kago is what you’d call an ero-guro artist — that is, he specializes in bizarre and oftentimes disturbing manga with a hefty amount of blood, nudity, gore and violence. Don’t let this discourage you: I think what I find most interesting is the way he challenges paneling conventions. The idea of paneling in comics is to find the most ideal way to lead the eye of the reader in order to communicate a story. Mr. Kago pushes this to the limit. In his work “Abstractions”, Mr. Kago even goes a step further by integrating his experimentation with panels into the story in itself by making it a part of the plot.
If you are interested in reading “Abstraction”, check this entry at SAME HAT! SAME HAT!, a blog featuring weekly reviews and commentary on manga along with an archive of translated comics for public consumption.
This post was done for the regular Comics/Graphic Novel feature of Read or Die. If you have any suggestions on titles to feature, or if you just want me to post about a particular title or topic regarding comics, feel free to contact me at stitchedophelia@yahoo.com!
remaking comic book characters
ADMU has recently added two classes devoted to theories behind comic books and comic book production. One of the first exercises that its students are required to do is to pick a comic book character and remake them in any way of their choosing. If you think about it, this is a pretty essential activity for anyone who wants to get into the comic industry: writers and illustrators alike are always required to re-imagine popular superheroes and their adversaries. DC and Marvel do it often, and Vertigo has more than a few characters that have gone through similar transformations.
During my first class, I decided to remake Minako Aino, better known as Sailor V from the Sailor V comic of Naoko Takeuchi. My partner and I changed the setting Sailor V was in, and remade her as a special agent of the Queen with superpowers out to solve the Jack the Ripper case. For my most recent comic class, I did a revamp of Psylocke from the Marvel universe as the “Queen” of Japan’s yakuza world.
If you guys were asked to do something like that, who would you choose and why? Also, how would you remake them?
Ctrl+P Releases its 7th Issue
Considering the controls and shifts that impact our lives, I invited contributors, artists, authors and curators, to speak about straddling places/teetering on the edge /being caught in-between; from rural to urban; rooted one moment, uprooted the next; between torment and pleasure; between in/out. To be in control is to be in charge or have the ability or authority to manage or direct things. Shift literally speaks of a move, a change in position, direction, and composition or circumstances.
The 7th Issue Ctrl+P Journal of Contemporary Art is now available for download (http://www.ctrlp-artjournal.org/pdfs/CtrlP_Issue7.pdf). Contributions to Ctrl+Shift are Alice and Rosy in Wanderland by Estelle Cohenny Vallier; To Alif, Gopali and Riham, Another Visa. Pleasure is Reduced to This by Mona Bur; Travels through 1001 Nights Cast by Barbara Campbell; A Chronicle of My Last Twelve Years by Karla Sachse; In time and Space by HERS Group; Out of Time by Adania Shibli; Unfinished Business by Jerome Ming; Causality (re)Cycles: A Community-based Recycling Program at Smokey Moutain, Metro Manila by Marlyne Sahakian; Options On by Lilian Zumkemi.
Ctrl+P is published on zero-budget and all their contributes write gratis. If you’re interested in learning more about them or joining their mailing list, email them at ctrp ctrl_p_artjournal @yahoo.com.
Speculative History, anyone?
After going through Victorian romance, classic horror and realistic fiction, I’ve started reading the What If? series of books on speculative history, edited by Ronald Cowley. I bought both of them at one of Ateneo Literary Society’s usual book sales because I remembered my history professor raving about them to his students back in sophomore year. Now that I’ve read them, I’m starting to regret not picking them up sooner.
What If? volumes are collections of essays that cover pivotal moments in world history and what might have occurred if things had gone differently. The first volume covers pivotal moments in military history; the second has a more general mix for both history lovers and casual browsers. Overall, the series covers topics like Jesus Christ, Socrates, the Hun invasions of Europe, Alexander the Great, Martin Luther, the American Cival War and World Wars I & II. The narrative isn’t your usual run-of-the-mill (and oftentimes snore-worthy) academic stuff… the writers, in fact, purposefully present their topics as they would a story. In some ways, you could say that this is how history ought to be taught and written. It’ll also leave us with a wider perspective of history in general, and how sometimes, the right (or wrong) people just happened to get lucky.
I’m yet to find either one of the What If? volumes on the shelves of the regular bookstores — I bought my copies second hand from Avalon.ph during one of Ateneo Literary Society’s semestral book sales. It may, however, be possible to order it from A Different Bookstore, Powerbooks, or Fully Booked.
Thoughts on the Literary Canon
During the Read or Die meeting last Saturday, poet Angelo Suarez mentioned this issue in response to one of the comments that came up during the discussion. His response got me thinking, once again, about the issue of the literary canon.
Most of what we understand about literature emerges from how it’s been taught to use since we were children. We grow up with familiar names like William Shakespeare, Robert Frost, Jane Austen and Edgar Allan Poe; we grow up reading their works, these so-called “Classics”, being told by our professors and our elders that they are universal masterpieces that transcend the boundaries of time. Sometimes, however, it takes us years before we can actually agree with that sentiment. In my case, for example, I was acutely allergic to the classics until my last two years in high school, when I was old enough to appreciate them. Admittedly, I still get bored by more than a few of the works in that department.
Classics — or, to put it in more academic terms, the literary canon — is a body of literary works that are considered, at least by the academic world, as the “greatest that Literature has to offer”. Anyone studying literature or at least remotely interested in literature frequently encounters this canon. From the way it is taught in schools, students are often asked to read the works, and — whether they like it or not — acknowledge their greatness. Nowadays, readers and scholars alike fall under two general categories: pro-canon and anti-canon. While there are many different arguments in the anti-canon department, the one that hits closest to home for us Filipinos would be something along the lines of If the literary canon is supposed to cover the greatest that Literature has to offer, then why does it only seem to contain dead white men?
This is a valid point, at least at face value. What a lot of people tend to forget is that socio-cultural issues and politics set aside, the canon was established for one reason: to provide readers around the world with a list of some of the great books that they should probably read before they die. Yes, it was established by Europe and America. Yes, it is filled with dead white men (and the occasional dead white female). But it’s also hard to deny the fact that a lot of the works within the canon really ARE wonderful works of literature. Of course, the reasons behind their “greatness” are also varied. Some of them are there because of their so-called “universality”. Others are there because of their literary technique, which may not be appreciated by the general masses but is certainly valuable to literary scholars. Still others are great because of the way they reflect particular realities, principles or sentiments of the time period they belonged to. Regardless, they are, in their own rights, great works, and some of them most certainly deserve the title ‘masterpiece’.
It might also be good to understand why the canon was created in the first place. Before the 1950’s, there was no organized movement to establish a canon… literary works of great value and artifice were simply passed down from age to age in the school rooms. It was only in the 1950’s, during a crisis of the Humanities in the USA and Europe, that the literary scholars of those regions decided to piece together a canon. Were it not for that movement, there wouldn’t BE a canon to serve as a guideline. Furthermore, literature study as we know it today might not have existed.
The literary canon is, indeed, something that should be problematized by the literary scholars our country. However, I believe that the popular approach that literary scholars and manifestos seem to take with it is wrong. We should not disregard the canon because of its political nature: it can’t help but BE political because of its origins. Instead, perhaps we should study both the great works of the literary canon as the scholarly world knows it alongside our own “canon-worthy” masterpieces. And we should not forget that at the end of the day, the canon is just an idea. It’s up to us, as readers, to determine what we think of as great or not. We were, in some ways, the real creators of the canon because readers were the ones who decided what to continue reading and what to pass on to their families, their friends, and whoever else happened to love reading as much as they did.
Let’s face it, readers… there are only so many books that we can read before we die, and the canon certainly has a few of them. Those works didn’t outlast centuries upon centuries for no reason, and the canon undoubtedly makes a good starting point should one ever be lost over what he or she should read.
Thoughts on A.S. Byatt’s “Possession”
Here’s my first book review for the Read or Die blog… I hope it ends up being somewhat more substantial than the random babbles of a self-confessed bibliophile. ^_^;
“You have not known what it really means to love someone madly and irrationally until you’ve read this book,” I remember my professor telling his graduating lit seniors last year. “If you want to have a taste of what real love must be like, Possession is the best read that one could possibly offer you in that direction.” Now, after reading it, I’m inclined to believe him.
A.S. Byatt’s Possession is the story of two literary scholars uncovering the secret love affair of two renowned Victorian poets through the letters and poetry they exchanged with each other. It’s a romance through and through mixed with all the elements of a good mystery novel and framed with delicate dialogue and unforgettable imagery.
I say that anyone can enjoy reading this novel, but I think that arts and humanities students will love it even more. Possession lends itself to those familiar with art and literature, whether they are scholars (formal and self-styled alike) or people who simply love a good story. As to those who are in it for the romance, I guarantee that they will not be left unsatisfied: Possession mirrors the past and the present, showing the many different types of relationships and of love in itself through the characters and their dealings with each other.
From letters to epic poetry to the more ‘traditional’ storytelling narrative, Byatt employs a wide range of literary styles and engages in many different forms throughout this work, adding a great amount of variety to the reading of Possession… as such, readers like myself feel sucked in by the story that Byatt has to tell, drawing one into the mystery at foot and making one feel the sense of urgency behind the actions of the protagonists and partake of their deep desire to uncover the secrets of the dead poet lovers for themselves.
I will be posting a book review on a weekly basis, give or take a few days. I’d also love to hear some feedback from you guys, be it book recommendations, comments or constructive criticism. Keep reading~
High Chair Launches Three Books
High Chair will unveil three new collections by poets Marc Gaba, Jose Perez Beduya, and Mesandel Virtusio Arguelles. It will be held on May 25, 5pm, at the UP Press Bookstore, Balay Kalinaw, UP Diliman.
Titles to be launched include Gaba’s How Sound Becomes A Name, Beduya’s Seem, and Arguelles’ Hindi man lang nakita.
A founding member of High Chair, Gaba received his MFA in Creative Writing from the prestigious Iowa Writers’ Workshop. Last year, he won the Boston Review Poetry Prize.
Beduya finished his MFA in Creative Writing at Cornell University and currently holds a residency at the Santa Fe Art Institute.
Arguelles is the author of two previous collections of poetry, Menos Kuwarto and Ilahas. He won a Palanca award for his poetry in 2005.
The event will also coincide with the launch of the seventh issue of High Chair’s online poetry journal.
Featured are new poems by American poet Frank Bidart, Rosmon Tuazon, Oliver Ortega, Kristine Domingo, Alex Gregorio, as well as critical essays on poetry by Marc Gaba, Conchitina Cruz, and Mabi David.
High Chair is a non-profit small press that aims to promote genuine interest in poetry in the Philippines. Apart from maintaining an online poetry website, it regularly publishes full-length books and chapbooks.
For more information, email
Call for Submissions to Philippine Speculative Fiction Volume 3
Dean Francis Alfar is now accepting submissions of short fiction pieces for consideration for the anthology Philippine Speculative Fiction Volume 3.
Speculative fiction is the literature of wonder that spans the genres of fantasy, science fiction, horror and magic realism or falls into the cracks in-between.
1. Only works of speculative fiction will be considered for publication. As works of the imagination, the theme is open and free.
2. Stories must cater to an adult sensibility. However, if you have a Young Adult story that is particularly well-written, send it in.
3. Stories must be written in English.
4. Stories must be authored by Filipinos or those of Philippine ancestry.
5. Preference will be given to original unpublished stories, but previously published stories will also be considered. In the case of previously published material, kindly include the title of the publishing entity and the publication date. Kindly state also in your cover letter that you have the permission, if necessary, from the original publishing entity to republish your work.
6. First time authors are welcome to submit. In the first two volumes, there was a good mix of established and new authors. Good stories trump literary credentials anytime.
7. No multiple submissions. Each author may submit only one story for consideration.
8. Each story’s word count must be no fewer than 2,500 words and no more than 5,000 words.
9. All submissions must be in Rich Text Format (.rtf – save the document as .rft on your word processor) and attached to an email to this address: dean at kestrelimc dot com. Submissions received in any other format will be deleted, unread.
10. The subject of your email must read: PSF3 Submission: (title) (word count); where (title) is replaced by the title of your short story, without the parentheses, and (word count) is the word count of your story, without the parentheses. For example - PSF 3 Submission: How My Uncle Brought Home A Diwata 4500.
11. All submissions must be accompanied by a cover letter that includes your name, brief bio, contact information, previous publications (if any).
12. Deadline for submissions is 15 September 2007. After that date, final choices will be made and letters of acceptance or regret sent out via email.
13. Target publishing date is December 2007/January 2008.
14. Compensation for selected stories will be two (2) contributor’s copies of the published anthology as well as a share in aggregrate royalties.
The Bienvenido N. Santos Literary Museum @ DLSUM
Picked up this bit of news while I was at my part time job today~
Works of the celebrated Filipino fictionist Bienvenido N. Santos have found a home in the recently inaugurated Bienvenido N. Santos Literary Museum at the DLSUM library. This literary museum has gathered together a rare collection of Santos’ mementos, ranging from photographs, video clips, awards, original manuscripts and published works. It also has some new material featuring interesting anecdotes about the late fictionist, and contains some significant things that helped him come up with his works. An example of this is the typewriter that he borrowed from Dr. Cirilo Bautista, another icon of Philippine literature.
Beyond the things on display, the BNS Literary Museum will also have exhibitions exploring different aspects of his ingenuity. Lectures, workshops and other activities are also scheduled regularly in the museum for students and visitors.

