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When Manong is Gone review of Peter Bacho's Dark Blue Suit
Well, I'm glad you're still here reading my site, as you can see, the way I write is the way I talk. Endless. As you can see also, I am not careful with either my writing or my talking, because, well, I really think the Filipino will not be reading a lot of my s--- this generation. To begin with, Filipinos must first fall in love with reading. To achieve that, writers in the Philippines need to learn how to entertain (and I'm poor at that), I am desperately trying to write entertainingly but really, it's hard. One thing I do not want to miss though is reading Filipino and Filipino-American authors. There is nothing nationalistic about that, nothing dramatic, I read them to be entertained and to remind myself I am not alone in this world. What I am realizing in reading Pinoys is that they inform. A lot. This information is what triggers my own recollection of things that are otherwise buried in the deep recesses of my brain. This encourages me to write some more. This recollection triggers my writing on this website. So - here I am updating this web site weekly. It is meant to copy the style of Liwayway. Liwayway has survived many years because it entertained all of us. It is like People's Magazine but it never faltered in serializing Tagalog novels. And Filipinos are suckers of novels telenovela style. I know this, there was a time I'd rather miss lunch than miss reading Liwayway. Trying to copy the style of Liwayway takes a lot of time, and between that and work and harnessing my programming skills, what else is left for my social life? But I believe I am doing something good. There is a war out there. I am at war with the declining literacy in the Philippines. I am at war with the declining English readership in the Philippines. (Declining is not the right word, it's more like slooooow progress). And I think our Filipino and Filipino-American writers are treated unfairly because their talents aren't compensated appropriately by the reading public. Of course there are Pinoy writers and writing I don't find worthy of reading but that is just a fraction of the whole. They say Filipinos don't read Filipino English literature because they hardly understand English. I beg to disagree. Filipinos understand English, they just don't have the money and luxury to buy these Filipino books in English. Most Filipinos are more dead-set in finding good jobs and getting food than reading literature. And that is the wall Filipino writers have to deal with. To fight that wall means fighting poverty, unemployment, illiteracy and everything that causes them, mainly politics. There is a beautiful Philippine world out there. What our history failed to do was capture it. I've always felt that the Philippine Literature I've read was always one sided. It did not have balance. When I say balance, I mean it to be inclusive. There was a time I thought everything I read in the Philippines was exclusive - especially Philippine English literature - it seemed to have been written for certain audience only. That is its greatest fault. Because that, it failed to captivate a mass audience. What I am driving at is this: Filipinos can read and write in English. Our writing however, a lot of it, lacks the entertaining and mass appeal and inclusive qualities that may lure a massive audience. We need suspense, thrills, out of this world writings. We need heads rolling, and blood gushing and mental distortions. In other words, we must push writing (especially fiction) to the max. I don't care what our institutions say - I still believe a Filipino can decide what he can or cannot read/write for himself. If we are to make progress, we must experiment (within the confines of the law, of course). We must not be writing in order to win awards (because, with that, we'd be writing to appeal to a certain judge or some literary critic somewhere and that takes away the author's unique voice, originality or personality); or to pacify a group; or to copy the western world; or to show-off (that is just so horrendous). Beautiful writing is a writing that comes from the heart and a writing that copies an entire new world and language. That is perhaps why I love the Caribbean writer Jamaica Kincaid. She writes exactly the way she talks - to hell with repetitive phrases - if the Filipino can't pronounce letter F properly and gets mixed up with Pronouns then let it be so - it is that way things are in the Philippines. And I am not intending to change any of that just so I could become the best English-user outside of Britain, no, that is not my writing style. I must capture the Philippines the way she is. Just like catching a fish - writing needs a bait and fish would not bite unless... Of course, the writings that are most palatable are the most entertaining ones - just look at it this way - if you're gonna gossip something about your neighbor, think of what your other neighbors would love to hear about him/her. Ok, ok, let me finish my semi-lecture at this point. The reason I love reading Peter Bacho is because he recreates a world that is uniquely his, his originality is so new to me. New because he talks about the second generation Pinoys, the Fil-Ams that, at least to my eyes when I was still in the Philippines, were so lucky - because they could talk fluent English, they could go to American schools, could play games with Americans, and could never get hungry. Well, I thought that way because I was poor and hungry. Until I read Bulosan. Reading Bulosan increased my appetite for the Filipino-American experience. Bulosan, and now Bacho have totally changed my concept of Fil-Am experience. I may sound sarcastic but darn, it was so fucked- up.
I am fascinated by the generation Peter Bacho is taking about in Dark Blue Suit mainly because I am following that generation's footsteps. The saddest part of being a Manong in USA was not the cruelty of discrimination, it was the cruelty of oblivion. There was no other more disturbing proof of that than Carlos Bulosan - a great Filipino who is forgotten. And there are many of them. Our fascination to the current personalities in the Philippines is sometimes sickening. We put so much values on the superficial Filipinos. We could not spend a single iota of recollection of the men and women who paved the way for the Filipino acceptance throughout the world. We could remember strange Western names even, names who have nothing to do with us. Yet we could not recall the names of Manongs of generations past who dealt with the cruelty in which they lived. It is the same amnesia we resort to when we see our compatriots get deported in countries where they are deemed unnecessary anymore. I wonder if we choose to ignore their plights because we don't want to hear their sad tales or we simply don't care. I don't know, and I am not here to pontificate. Because no matter how tragic, story telling is great and Peter Bacho has mastery in this area. There are Fil-Am authors who are read and there are Fil-Am authors who are REALLY read. These are authors whose books do not belong to everybody or cannot be copied by anybody. Peter Bacho is superb in his mastery of English, one author whose command I'd like to have but may never will. His lingo can be classic to modern to "slang straight out of drug dealing streets." I've always admired this Fil-Am author: he's a lawyer, a teacher, a boxer, a martial arts expert, and most of all, together with Bienvenido Santos and Carlos Bulosan, he is the voice of the lost generation of Manongs. But he is different from the other two. He is the son of the lost generation. Peter Bacho is American first, and his experience is American, his lingo is American. I'd like to emphasize this before anything else - his tale is an American tale, with Filipino characters. Peter Bacho has created a unique tale, tragic maybe, but it is his very own. Dark Blue Suit is the Fil-Am transition story and its realism bites and stings. Santos, Bulosan and Bacho tells us one thing: all you Pinoys who love American classic films made in the 30s and 40s rest assured you ain't in those classic films. While Katherine Hepburn was Bringing Up Baby and Bob Hope was making America laugh the Pinoy was in California fields picking up peas. And quite honestly, we still ain't in American films. But you don't want to read about that - you want the Pinoy American experience start with Lea Salonga or Tia Carrerre. That is very sad because you forget the real core of the Filipino heart. The Filipino heart does not begin with the glamour of nineties; it began with the first tale the Manong whispered in a brothel house surrounded by loose women, drug dealers, heavy handed masters of the fields and of course, boxing. This is a poignant line (of Bacho vintage - simple English but profound meaning): And so, faced with the heat of the fields and the filth and overcrowding of cruel hotel rooms, many young Filipinos in the 1930s turned to boxing as a way out, a way up; they were lured by the money, but only partly. The prize ring also provided the rare chance to be judged as an equal, which every Pinoy craved. The ring suspended society's norms, those rules that embodied a racial and social order favoring color over ability, class over potential. In the ring, a Filipino could beat a white man with his fists and not be arrested. - Dark Blue Suit I hope you recognize that Pinoy. He is still everywhere around the world -his manner of "way out and up" may no longer be boxing; it may be computers or surgery or nursing or teaching - still, the craving to become equal remains. Peter Bacho talks about that. Dark Blue Suit answers one curiosity: now that we've heard the woes and misery and struggles of those young Filipinos who tried to make it in America in 30s and 40s, then (entonses, as my father would always say) - what happened to their children? I would be joking if I'd say those straight boys didn't marry or fuck or produce children. They were no monks. Peter Bacho talks about that. He talks about that evolving Fil-Am world that culminated in my American world at present. It remains evolving though. True, most of the physical harshness against Pinoys in the 30s and 40s are gone, still, you sense the "outside-ness" of Pinoys in America of today. Which, of course is normal, especially for me who did not know the difference between a bagel and muffin when I arrived in the States. But what has happened to the Manongs when they reached their retirements and deaths? What has does the second generation Pinoy (the Fil-Am) feel and think? Is he really the "lucky one" because he was born in the States? Maybe or maybe not. I would go into Bacho's tales in the next issue... itutuloy note: This site's hits has reached a max of 100 in one day. Most of you know how hard it is to keep articles rolling. If you have anything to contribute (free), please do so. Comments (nice ones) are also appreciated). mailto:alexmask@bellsouth.net
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Volume 1 |
Alex Maskara |
