Commentary
Remembering Rene Villanueva
By Neni Sta. Romana Cruz
Philippine Daily Inquirer
First Posted 00:43:00 01/05/2008
Filed Under: Literature, Personalities
The fifth of December was an especially sad day for children’s literature. It was the day we lost Rene O. Villanueva, the most outstanding writer of children’s stories in the country. Schoolchildren and reading teachers know him because of the sheer quality and quantity of his literary output. Even the most modest starter collection is certain to carry his books.
Who has not been delighted by Butsiki, the first pig who went to heaven and who defied the fate of all pigs, rising to glory rather than landing on the buffet table with an apple in the mouth? Who has not been charmed by Mama’s magical bag that her child reckoned to be a doctor’s bag because of its healing wonders on troubled and unhappy women? It turns out that Mama’s magic comes from her being a manicurist. Who has not met the grandmother’s wondrous long tresses that manage to endure the worst of misfortunes? Who has not been stunned by the subtlety and the sadness of the child who did not want to open her eyes and awaken because she had lost innocence in her own home? Such is the range of Rene’s books, yet far more encompassing than this limited listing of my memorable favorites.
Knowing his young audience so well, he had crafted his stories with his usual touch of genius so that despite tackling sensitive issues, he succeeded in delivering the message -- without needing to mention the environment, women trapped in their lives, feminism, child abuse and children’s rights. He strived to make Philippine history -- his special interest -- readable and fascinating for children.
Rene, a valued colleague at the Philippine Board on Books for Young People, died at 53, but after his bypass a few years ago, was perhaps the least surprised, because he felt every year would be his last. Not because of fear or superstition, just a heightened awareness of his mortality. And we are all richer by that because he could not countenance a year without writing something new: a play, an essay, a TV script, several children’s stories. He wrestled with the mandated healthy diet and lifestyle his doctors prescribed, but managed a punishing schedule as university professor and tireless workshop facilitator for children, writers and teachers.
He was truly prepared to go and left in his usual extravagant style. Six years ago, he informed me with pride and total satisfaction that he had compiled all of his writings and articles in scrapbooks because he was concerned no one would be interested enough to do the chronicling after he was gone. His 2006 book, “(IM) Personal,” a guide to writing and for aspiring writers, ends with an essay that carries instructions to be followed when he dies (“kapag natepok” goes part of the title).
One cannot remain mournful reading his wishes: a sectoral tribute for him as a teacher, a playwright, a writer for children; no hysterics, please, in the manner of Charito Solis but quiet grief a la Lolita Rodriguez; no poetry, just straight talk. He expressly wanted a last night vigil of videoke singing and bantering. He knew the financial requirements of setting up a foundation in his name, so he has kindly left a list of uncollected debts to help start it up.
Rene would have wholeheartedly approved of the tribute of the children’s literature sector. His family was poised to have his white casket sprayed orange, the color of his choice. But the illustrators who lent life to his many books created a lovely orange rubber wrap for his casket, lavish with illustrations and cutouts. Augie Rivera, one of the brightest lights in children’s books today, recounted how he underwent a bloodletting in his writer’s initiation to keep up with Rene’s daily demands for 10 riddles, 10 puzzles, 10 stories to be retold, as if he were just ordering at a McDonald’s counter.
His colleagues in the children’s educational television show “Batibot” for which he was creative director and head writer for decades ended the evening with the “Batibot” song that Rene composed and now rearranged in a funereal tempo -- another final wish of his. It was difficult for us to keep happy, as he would have us be. But we did try to restrain our sadness, in the manner of Lolita Rodriguez.
He is affectionately remembered for a poem I nagged him to write to promote reading, a lark for him. Within hours, he delivered one that begins, “Kay sarap magbasa…” [“It feels to good to read…”], today a staple in teacher training workshops.
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Erratum: In my last Commentary of Dec. 22, the names of the two Christian Brothers should have appeared in this format specified in the De La Salle style guide: Br. Mawel Pajarillo, FSC and Br. Benildo Feliciano, FSC. My apologies.
Neni Sta. Romana Cruz is a member of the Philippine Board on Books for Young People and a trustee of the Sa Aklat Sisikat Foundation. Email comments to nenisrc@gmail.com.
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