Shortly after this country rose up in arms to protest Dan Brown’s depiction of Manila as the “gates of hell,” it showered Paulo Coelho with a whole lotta love. The reason for it was that soon after Coelho heard the strangled cries of Pinoys over Brown’s book, he tweeted, “Dear Filipinos, your souls lead to the gates of heaven.”
The story found itself in Google and Yahoo. The Yahoo story came from AP. “Dan Brown’s description of Manila as ‘the gates of hell’ in the American novelist’s latest book has not gone down well with officials in the Philippine capital,” it said. And goes on to note MMDA chair Francis Tolentino’s protestations over it.
My family and friends often ask me why I take a trip of 40 kilometers, including a 15-minute pumpboat ride, from Guimaras Island to Miag-ao, Iloilo, every day just to study literature. Yet the biggest question for them is not the distance I travel, but the reason I am taking this course.
First love never dies. It all started with the book launch of “Nick” on July 6, 2011. The Joaquin mystique threw me back to my four decades of reading and teaching literature. I wrote “Rekindling an old flame” (Inquirer, 7/15/11). But the spark sputtered.
I laughed my head off last week after reading that item that said Miriam Defensor-Santiago had apologized to people with Down Syndrome. After slamming the Down Syndrome Association of the Philippines for threatening to sue her for using “mongoloid” in a derogatory sense, she relented. “I extend the hand of friendship. Out of goodwill, I will impose self-censorship, by avoiding in the future any word that refers to a person with disability.”
I was about to say let’s take time out to mourn the deaths of artists, but came to my senses just in time. It made me wonder what had happened to me taking politics to be the more serious preoccupation, and art, well, something to take time out for. Art is in fact the more serious thing. The deaths of artists are a cause for the world to stop, the deaths of politicians are a cause for the world only to bring out the champagne.
I was pleasantly surprised by the Jan. 24 editorial “Literature.” It was a good breather from all the news and commentaries on the ongoing Corona impeachment trial. The editorial, among other things, emphasized the Bible’s literary value, being as it is a rich source of beautiful figurative language and imagery. It reminded me of an English class assignment I gave my freshmen high school students at JASMS-QC four years ago.
I thank the Inquirer for the positive editorial “Philippines 2050.” (Inquirer, 1/23/12) It underscored the importance of the human capital and praised University of Santo Tomas’ contribution in education in the country. Nice editorial. A rare thing for the Inquirer.
For a country that is predominantly Christian, the Philippines is not noted as a Bible-reading nation. Many homes have a copy of the Holy Bible, but the question is, is it being read except on special occasions? The Society of Saint Paul Philippines has been trying to remedy this situation and promoting the widespread reading of the Bible by conducting a yearly National Bible Quiz.
MAYBE I had a case of literature overload. For more than half a century I read and breathed literature. The first 10 years as a student were the best when I curled up with the immortal English novels: “Jane Eyre,” “Vanity Fair,” “Wuthering Heights,” “Pride and Prejudice,” the whole lot of Charles Dickens. I could’ve [...]
MOST FILIPINOS will recognize the Latin phrase “Noli me tangere” as the title of Jose Rizal’s first novel, rather than as a biblical line from the gospel of St. John (20:17). In English, it is usually rendered as “Touch me not.” This was what the risen Jesus told the startled Mary Magdalene when she tried [...]
TWO STORIES in yesterday’s issue struck me, not only because they held rich human interest, but also because they reminded me of family members. Tooling around in an ukay-ukay tie, starched shirt and cap on his second-hand bike, “diaristang sosyal” Carlos Antolo is surely a sight to see on the streets of Lucena. I can [...]
