The vernacular writer

Media

Part of Panorama

Title: The vernacular writer
Creator: Cruz, Andres Cristobal
Identifier: Not so bad
Language: English
Source: Volume XII (Issue No.4) April 1960
Year: 1960
Subject: Filipino authors; Native language
Rights
Fulltext: Not so bad — The Vernacular Writer by Andres Cristobal Crux The filipino of today is con fronted with the alterna tives that will determine whether he is to be liberated from the enslaving forces of West ern economic colonialism, reli gious intolerance, and alien at tempts at ecnoomic domination. It will be a difficult choice; nevertheless he has to make it enmeshed as he is in a morally corrupt society, his national life threatened both economically and politically. But while his Southeast Asian neighbors are redirecting their dedications towards their own na tional survivals, the Filipino has yet to decide on making the leap from an ancient bondage to a new freedom. Having been alienated from his beginnings, because of his long subservience to the Western ap proach to almost every phase of life, the Filipino is already be ginning to forget that, as an Asian, he has his own system of culture and modes of expressions. He confuses between the West ern approach to art which tena ciously upholds the individual, and the Eastern artist’s belief in the universal; he is at a loss whether to identify himself with the Western artist who would anchor himself to earth in order to express himself to the littlest of details, or with the Eastern artist who goes well beyond him self, reaching out to the inscrut ably unattainable by simply re creating the essential idea Dehind the object. Although it is presumed today that Filipino society and culture were magnanimously guided by both Spanish and American tradi tions, the Filipino people’s basic way of life already enjoyed an 28 Panorama identity of its own in the pre Spanish times. This is evidenced in the country’s literary tradi tion that is rich not only in modes of expressions, but also in the intellectual and spiritual as well as in the aesthetic aspects of its' message and value. ip rom the age of magic incantations, folktales, legends, and ritual songs came a Filipino epoch of epics which reflected the confluences of the Malaya-Orient al cultures in the islands: the Vishayan epics Maragtas, Hinilawod, Eagda, Harayaxv, and Hari sa Bukit; the Mindanao Moro Bantugan, Indarapatraat, Sulayman, Daramoki a Bahay and Bidasari; the Dagoy and Sudsod of the Tagbanwa-Palawan groups; Parang Sabir of Sulu; Biag ni Lam-Ang of the Ilokanos; the Benguet-Ibaloy epics Kabunian and Bendian; the Ifugao Hudhud and Alim. However, because of govern mental and academic neglect and indifference, the oral literatures of the past are dying in the memories of old men and women in the hinterlands and mountains who have received these epics from the past, but who now find no audience to whom to transmit a people’s history and myth. To begin with, our primitive litera ture had no chance against the inroads of Christian indoctrina tion and orientation. Out of this cultural and literary tampering resulted the works of friar-schol ars, and later on, the introduc tion of literary forms evolved from a Spanish-Moorish civiliza tion. Filipino priests wrote their versions of the Passion Play and as the metrical romances in vogue abroad were adapted, there began the period of axvits and corridos, the first comedias or moro-moros that became the forerunners of the karagatan, duplo, zarzuela and the Balagtasan. It was not until the Propaganda Period that Filipino literature’s potential influence upon the thinking of the masses was to be felt. In Plorante at Laura Fran cisco Baltazar (Balagtas) allegor ized the abusive practices of the Spanish friars and civil adminis trators. Dr. Jose P. Rizal’s Noh Me Tangere attempted to “repro duce the conditions of his coun try faithfully and without fear, raising away the veil that hides the evil.’’ Marcelo del Pilar, Ma riano Pon.ce, Antonio Luna, An dres Bonifacio, Emilio Jacinto, and Apolinario Mabini, in words and deeds, generated the begin nings of a national self-awareness that eventually exploded in the violence of the Katipunan. Then came the early American period in the Philippines which was characterized more by pole mics than by significant advances in literature. Taking ideological positions on the current political April 1960 29 issues of the period were Sergio Osmena’s El Nuevo Dia, Rafael Palma’s El Renacimtento, and Pas cual Poblete’s El Grito del Pueblo which, incidentally, were among the first newspapers. Severino (Lola Basyang) Reyes, Ananias Zorilla, and Aurelio Tolentino presented plays, while Cecilio Apostol, Claro M. Recto, Ma nuel Bernabe, and Jesus Balmori experimented successfully in tra ditional verse and prose. Vicente Sotto, the Father of Cebuano writing, Buenaventura Rodriguez, Vicente Rama, Uldarico Alviola, and Piux A. Kabahar are to Cebuano literature what Eriberto Gumban and Mag dalena Jalandoni are to Ilongo literature as Marcelino Crisologo and Leon Pichay are to Ilocano writings. Comparatively speaking, of the six major languages (Ta galog, Cebuano, Ilongo, Ilocano, Bicol, and Samar-Leyte) of a total of 87, Tagalog and Cebuano lit erature are richer. For the contemporary Filipino vernacular writing, one looks to wards the successfully circulated vernacular magazines, the “small magazines’’ and the house-organs come to existence before dead line time for the annual Palanca Memorial Awards for Literature, and also in the campus literary pages. In them as in the English publications one finds a hybrid form of writing that finds sus tenance in foreign stereotypes and cliches. Both the Filipino writer in English or the Filipino writer in the vernacular, are faced with the same dilemma of their so ciety: they have become strangers in their own land. J n the past there has been a divisive attitude between the Filipino writer in English and the Filipino writer in the verna cular. It was an attitude of in difference and snobbery. The Fili pino writer in English ignored nis counterpart in the vernacular who in turn, retaliated in equal measure. Incidentally some verna cular writers are under the im * - pression that Filipino writers in English are a class higher. This is a misleading impression for in spite of the fact that some Fili pino writers in English have been published abroad thru literary agents, they are, at best compara ble to the beginner in the verna cular and to the established hack who will never be the artist be cause he has become a literary hustler. Where then is the Filipino ver nacular literature? Or to be speci fic, where is Tagalog literature of the present? J * o the majority of Tagalog writers, the money is in radio commercial translations and ad vertising copies, in radio com mentaries and soap opera. But the pot of gold is in the movies. 30 Panorama Towards this end, a lot of them are bent on attracting the atten tion of movie producers by slant ing their literary output for film ing potentialities. One is in fact, inclined to suspect that almost every Tagalog novelist has adapt ed his writing for movie prospects, forgetting the fact that cinema tographic interpretation of the novel or story is the producer’s and the director’s job. Tnis perni cious practice is further abetted, unwittingly, by the masses whose dictates at the box office ultimate ly decide the type of Tagalog literature in circulation. In the field of poetry the con temporary output is lean as al ways. Tagalog poetry has a world of tradition all its own evolved from the incantations, the salaivikains and bugtongs, the exhor tative verses of the tribal groups, with a characteristic beauty, in telligence, and thought. That it should abound with moralistic and reforming lines, and that it should limit itself to the conven tional metrics is of course to be regretted; and there is little hope for a refreshing change as long as its practitioners refuse or are not able to strike out with experi mental poetry. Fortunately, Ale jandro G. Abadilla, Manuel Prin cipe Bautista, Manuel Car. San tiago, and Gonzalo K. Flores have already attempted innovations in Tagalog poetry, with Abadilla providing the extreme in terms of image and thought, while Eustaquio G. Cabras and Leonar do C. Diokno are doing the same with Cebuano poetry. In the case of the Tagalog es say, the appearance of Aliwan, a LiwayWay Publication weekly may yet provide legitimate out let for its practitioner. It regu larly features Emilio Aguilar Cruz’s Labu-labo (Free for all . . .) and now and then Amado V. Hernandez’s subtly humorous and anecdotal articles. In the past, the late Macario Pineda’s column Sabi ni lngkong Terong in Ilang-Ilang and also the late Jesus A. Arceo’s essays provided thought and charm, while in his Bagong Buhay column Edilberto Parulan wrote on the imponder ables of life. The last known collection of essays in Tagalog is Gemiliano Pineda’s Sanaysay (Es says). The year 1957 saw Tagalog literary rebel Alejandro G. Aba dilla being cited by the Institute of National Language for his con tribution to Tagalog literature as exemplified in his book of poetry Ako Ang Daigdig (I Am the World). Abadilla is a writer who astonishes his better-informed col leagues with his obstinate lack of background on even the writing trends of two decades ago. His reading are mostlly confined to the D.H. Lawrence, Sigmund Freud, and Alberto Moravia school of sex and literature. April 1960 31 The year 1957 also saw the anthology of short stories Maiikling Katha ng 20 Pangunahing Awtor, published by Pangwika Publishing House, the main life line of which is a fortnightly booklet of the latest song hits. As the Abadilla PBPPineda an thology was published “literature wise” it had to contradict itself by selling its authors. Although it had complained about “com mercial writing,” the anthology published several which first saw print in Liwayway. J^ast year Pangwika Publish ing House also published Alejandro G. Abadilla and Genaro Kapulong’s Pagkamulat ni Magdalena which challenges the most Catholic of taste with an ambitiously handled theme of sex and nationalism. The original jac ket design of the book is a bril liant example of ludicrously poor taste in book selling. No sooner was it offered to leading book stores in the city than it was quickly asked to put on another jacket. The book has yet to be reviewed in context for all the recommendatory statements wellmeaning and polite, but less cri tical sympathizers have on the jacket flaps. Last year, the Carlos Palanca Memorial Awards for Literature prize stories from 1950 to 1955 were published between covers, the Tagalog short stories includ ed, thus providing a particular body of supposedly good writing in the vernacular. Last year also the "Lubas sa Dagang Bisaya” an organization of Cebuano V i s a y a n writers awarded prizes to winners of its first short story contest. The first prize of Pl 50.00 went to Eugenio A. Viacrucis for his Sagib (Sur vivor); the second prize of P75.OO for Fornarina Enemencio’s Ang Kuwintas Nga Manol (Sampaguita Necklace); and the third prize of P50.00 to May Usa Ka Patay nga Punoan (There’s a dead tree trunk) by Diosdado C. Mantalaba. At present, there are only three magazines publishing Cebuano fiction, the Bisaya which has the widest circulation, the Alimyon, and the Silaw. In December of 19 5 7 this writer went on a cultural sojourn in the south to tape Cebuano poetry by the poets themselves, Cebuano songs, recitations and other pieces. The project was a personal one for the library of the Institute of National Lan guage, but it is hoped that a Cebuano group in Manila may yet be interested well enough to sponsor the first public presenta tion of the tape-recorded mate rials. JF here it isn’t plain indiffer ence or ignorance that ham pers the florescence of vernacular writing, other causes just as des 32 Panorama tractive and distractive could be found. The following is indica tive: A few months ago, this year, an editor for an anthology of Tagalog short stories asked a young writer for his piece. This particular young writer wrote the editor asking the kind of au dience the proposed anthology would address itself to so he would know the kind of story he would send. He also asked quite frankly if there was anything to be expected by way of remuneraaon. Why is it? the young writer wrote, that when it comes to money matters we seem to feel shame . . . In less than a week the answer came. The editor was offended and slighted and in so many words expressed the common, but unhappy belief that writers must not expect rewards, and that an thologies of such kind (addressed to students with the blessing per haps of the Textbook Board) do not profit. The young writer sent his piece written as the phrase goes “in blood and sweat and tears.” But it came back with a piece of note, unsigned, from the editor saying that the manu script came too late for the press. This in less than a month and a half-time! Many writers in Tagalog, par ticularly among the elder ones, believe in the myth of the writer as a bohemian, with a lean and hungry look, and as a special kind of person with tendencies of a psychopath. For him a lot of girls must fall, he must more or less hug the bottle as often as possible, and he must be regarded as one blessed with the gift of the gods from Olympus. A crit icism of their work is considered a personal offense and he who offended must suffer the consequences—ostracism and back-stab bing, a prejudice of long standing against the offender’s life and works past and present and in the future. If among Filipino writers in English there have been cliques and coteries of various hue and cry, the worst can be found among writers in Tagalog where there is so much boasting going around, “to much wind,” to use a vernacular image, but very lit tle writing really to be truly proud about. The pride is illegi timate: it merely hints an excuse for having nothing really of worth. Even those who savagely decry against so-called commercial writing are merely rhetorical, nev er aesthetic, nor at the least, art istic about it. Overbearingly disgruntled for no reason at all, the young writers in Tagalog behave like literary juvenile delinquents. By their manuscripts, one can de duce that they are suffering from the wrong impression that to imi April 1960 33 tate this author’s style or that one’s technique, is to assure pub lication. Imitative without know ing why they spend so little time keeping their third eye on their story. Most of the beginning writ ers do not seem to realize that even editors can get fed up with the same themes and subjects and manner of writing. They have a remarkable tendency to be shal low and not even entertaining. When not engaged in bicker ings our so-called established writ ers in Tagalog are either busy with social functions or with the mirror of their achievements. Some of them can be as imma ture and shallow as the young, blindly eager ones because they refuse to grow within, to be in volved in the daily realities of life; or that having had no per sonal crisis or crises they remain emptied, after several accidental writings. That too much generous friendship tends towards cliches in spirit and aims responsible, in turn, for a clique of writing is harmful and should not be over looked. Those who keep on, among the young and the old, are those who labor quietly and slowly and are never bothered if the editor’s frame of mind for the moment reflects a lack of understanding of the recent criteria for effec tive, wholesome and worthwhile writing and also a suspicion of any new style, which is termed “literary writing” when it is just plain old fashioned good writing, with a beginning, a middle, and an end. J n 1958, the Liwayway Pub lications organized and opened a writing workshop in the com pany resthouse in Cabcaben, Mariveles, Bataan for staff members. With the modest opinion that “even so-called popular writing should be written well,” A. C. Fabian, general manager and no velist and the Liwayway writers intended to write several months’ supply of stories so that after a time the writers can take it easy on their own pieces as well as encourage young and new writ ers. Story-wise and reader-wise there is an informally serious dis cussion before or after a story is written. During one of these discussions at the Cabcaben work shop the need for fortifying the skeletal Tagalog short story by effective characterization, dia logue, description was pinpointed. Thereafter, improvements in ver nacular stuff can be expected. The workshop is the only one of its kind in the country, and per haps in the whole Southeast Asia. Comparatively speaking, Filipi no writers are paid higher than writers in Southeast Asia, ex cluding Japan where writers could live on the patronage of their audience. 34 Panorama tj * agalog writing has again earned added lustre by the return of Amado V. Hernandez to a re-invigorated writing. His short stories and his articles hap pily bring a new hope for honestto- goodness, uncluttered writing. His play "Muntinlupa" won the first prize last year in the Palanca Awards. Fortunately, the vernacular comics (and the mo vies) have not claimed him yet for its next votary as it had Clodualdo del Mundo who, in spite of becoming a threat to Mars Ravelo, the undisputed dean of Tagalog comics writers, still main tains a sensible and sensitive cri tical eye. 1958 also saw the founding of the Kilusang Makabansa (Nation alist Movement) headed by Jose Domingo Karasig, an organiza tion advocating patriotic support of Filipino lifeways, and of the Kapatiran ng Mga Alagad ng Pambansang Wikang Pilipino (KAPAWIPI) for the dissemina tion and enrichment of Filipino art and culture with an awe-in spiring ceremony and symbology not unlike that of Freemasonry. The KAPAWIPI was conceived by Jose Joson Santoyo and Lazaro Francisco, both writers of note, the laltter being one of the very few who command respect for un compromised novels with a broad base of social awareness. The year 1957-’58 has served to indicate more positively new trends in vernacular literature. For one thing, vernacular writ ing is coming to terms with the human condition and the social situation; the craft of fiction among vernacular practitioners is slowly being examined in spite of an acute absence of textual cri ticism on the best existing mate rials. Happily for the vernacular writer, he has no critic to worry about, except the board of judges of the Palanca Awards. It remains for the vernacular writer to define, with ethical cons ciousness, human experience ei ther personal or societal from an emotional and intellectual dist ance, controlling it with consum mate artistry and with organic unity. He has to have firm con viction on human folly and wis dom, human stress and strain as he lives and as he works, guided by the one obligation of his crea tive gift: to do what he has to do in terms. most suited to his specific utterance. When the Filipino writer, ei ther in English or in the verna cular finally comes to believe in the potent force of literature, when he preserves with humility and frankness the written hopes and aspirations of his generations and by these learn and live and be free, when he becomes deeply aware of the things within him and without, when in his prose and in his poetry he learns to find, as his countrymen did, the April I960 35 deathless and telling record of the rise of the Filipinos from their beginnings in the love of God, of man, of country, and find these again, Lien and only then can he rededicate himself as an artist and as a Filipino to Art and to Life. ¥ ^ ¥ WiM 7'mA fan Wdl A wine-making plant, complete with storage space for a total of 30,000 gallons of wine, has been found near the famous well of Gibeon, at the modern village el-Jib, Palestine. The 2600-year-old winery, probably the oldest in the world, was discovered when handles from wine jars found in the well suggested further inves tigation. Each handle bore the name and address of the marker of the wine, indicating that ancient Gi beon was a wine industry center. In the course of excavation, 28 unusual small vats were found cut out of limestone bed-rock. Each one has a small opening of about 29 inches in diame ter that could be covered with a stone. Each mea sures about six feet in diameter and averages seven feet, four inches in depth. The scientists decided they had served as cellars for storing and aging the wine. Stoppers for the jars also turned up, but the scient ists were reasonably sure these could not have provided the air-tight seal to keep wine from spoiling. A wine maker at a nearby monastery provided a possible answer. If olive oil is poured on top of wine in a jar or bottle, a seal is provided, he said. The finding of two olive presses on the site confirm ed this answer. ¥ 36 Panorama
pages: 28-36