21st Century Literature-Final

21st CENTURY LITERATURE FROM THE
PHILIPPINES AND THE WORLD
Philippine Copyright 2020

Published by Victory Elijah Christian College, Inc.
43 Rose Street, Lourdes Subdivision, Mambugan, Antipolo
Rizal, Philippines, 1870
All rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by
any means without prior permission of Victory Elijah Christian College, Inc.
victoryelijahschool@gmail.com
www.victoryelijahchristiancollege.com
2020
2 1 s t C e n t u r y L i t e r a t u r e f r o m t h e P h i l i p p i n e s a n d t h e W o r l d P a g e 1 | 197
Learning Introduction and Overview
The 21st century in literature refers to world literature produced during the 21st century. The
measure of years is, for the purpose of this article, literature written from (roughly) the year 2001 to
the present.
Philippine literature withstood time and periods and has evolved through generations. For
every period that passed, different genres appeared, and these literary works rooted from all regions
reflecting their culture, society and lifestyle.
The early stages of Filipino Literature consist of the Pre-Spanish period, the Spanish period
and the Propaganda and Revolutionary Periods. In the Pre-Spanish period, literature was in oral
form as technology of printing wasn’t available yet. Works such as epics, legends, folklore,
salawikain, bugtong, sawikain, songs such as the Oyayi or Hele are passed on from generations to
generations and they are still well-known up to this day as they are being taught in schools. Philippine
Literature changed during the Spanish Period. It was centered on Christian faith. Pre-Spanish literary
types continued to develop; however, there was a gradual shift of interest from nature and natural
phenomena to the lives of the saints, hymns, miracles and invocations based on the teachings of the
Catholic Church. The works during this time are imitative of the Spanish theme, forms, and traditions.
The corrido, awit, dalit, cenaculo, moro-moro, duplo and karagatan, and zarzuela are reflective of
the said characteristics. Religious matters were in prose as novenas and prayer books, biographies
of the saints, tales and novels. The Filipinos were able to retain their native traditions and poems in
the field of poetry reflected as lyrical folksongs and riddles. Some examples of songs are Bahay
Kubo, kundiman, and tapat. Francisco Baltazar also was popular during this time because of his
“Florante at Laura”. Events such as the exposure of the Filipinos to Europe’s liberal idealism, the
opening of the Suez Canal, the Spanish Revolution in 1868, and the martyrdom of Gomburza led to
Filipino nationalism. This gave birth to two movements during this time – the Propaganda movement
and the Revolutionary movement. The Propaganda movement was reformatory in objective and its
members are college students mostly based in Spain. The primary propagandists were Jose Rizal,
Marcelo H. del Pilar, and Graciano Lopez-Jaena. The exposure of the evils of the Spanish rule in the
Philippines was because of Rizal’s Noli Me Tangere and El Filibusterismo and has paved the way to
a revolution against Spain. Del Pilar’s essays and editorials in Diariong Tagalog which he founded
with Lopez-Jaena’s articles in La Solidaridad which he was an editor reflected nationalism that was
dominant at this time.
The Revolutionary movement took over as the propagandists failed to get much reforms. This
was of course more violent, and it demands complete independence from Spain. The Katipunan was
founded by Andres Bonifacio who was inspired by Rizal’s novels. The articles written in tagalog
(which was a form of revolution) was published in the Kalayaan, the newspaper of the society. The
literature at that time was more propagandistic than literary as the situation and events at that time
needed such purpose for liberation.
Learning Outcomes
Upon successful completion of the lessons the learners will be able to:
1. Read one poem written by a Filipino writer using the Historical and Biographical Criticism; and
2. Write a 500-word critical interpretation of the poem, with a description of its context derived
from research
3. Discuss and engaged on the various dimensions of Philippine literary history to contemporary
4. Familiarize and imitate canonical authors and works of Philippine National Artist in Literature
5. Remember and distinguish names of authors and their works, and background of the literature
form the region where the high
6. Name some literary works published during the Spanish Colonial Period.
7. Analyze some literary works.
Learning Contents
Lesson 1: PHILIPPINE LITERATURE DURING THE PRECOLONIAL PERIOD
Lesson 2: PHILIPPINE LITERATURE DURING THE SPANISH COLONIAL PERIOD
Lesson 3: PHILIPPINE LITERATURE DURING THE AMERICAN AND THE JAPANESE PERIODS
Lesson 4: PHILIPPINE LITERATURE IN THE POSTWAR AND CONTEMPORARY PERIOD
Lesson 5: Philippine Literature Authors
Lesson 1
PHILIPPINE LITERATURE DURING
THE PRECOLONIAL PERIOD
The precolonial literature includes all literature produced before the Spanish colonization like chants,
proverbs, songs, and folk narratives. These were all passed down from generation to generation by
word of mouth. Philippine folk narratives are varied and distinct. They depict the people’s livelihood,
customs, and traditions.
1) Poetry – literary work in which special intensity is given to the expression of feelings and
ideas by the use of distinctive style and rhythm; poems collectively or as a genre of literature.
2) Essay - a short piece of writing on a particular subject.
3) Short Story - a story with a fully developed theme but significantly shorter and less elaborate
than a novel.
4) Folktale – This is a characteristically anonymous, timeless, and
5) placeless tale circulated orally among a people.
6) Fable – This feature animal characters or inanimate objects that behave like people.
7) Legend – This is presented as history but is unlikely to be true.
8) Myth – This is told to explain a belief, a practice, or a natural phenomenon.
9) Epic – This narrative poem celebrates the adventures and achievements of a hero.
POETRY
Poetry is a type of literature based on the interplay of words and rhythm. It often employs rhyme and
meter (a set of rules governing the number and arrangement of syllables in each line). In poetry,
words are strung together to form sounds, images, and ideas that might be too complex or abstract
to describe directly.
Poetry was once written according to fairly strict rules of meter and rhyme, and each culture had its
own rules. For example, Anglo-Saxon poets had their own rhyme schemes and meters, while Greek
poets and Arabic poets had others. Although these classical forms are still widely used today, modern
poets frequently do away with rules altogether – their poems generally do not rhyme, and do not fit
any particular meter. These poems, however, still have a rhythmic quality and seek to create beauty
through their words.
The opposite of poetry is “prose” – that is, normal text that runs without line breaks or rhythm.
This article, for example, is written in prose.
II. Examples and Explanation
Example 1: The Greek poet Homer wrote some of the ancient world’s most famous literature. He
wrote in a style called epic poetry, which deals with gods, heroes, monsters, and other large-scale
“epic” themes. Homer’s long poems tell stories of Greek heroes like Achilles and Odysseus, and
have inspired countless generations of poets, novelists, and philosophers alike.
Of all creatures that breathe and move upon the earth,
nothing is bred that is weaker than man. (Homer, The Odyssey)
Example 2: Poetry gives powerful insight into the cultures that create it. Because of this, fantasy
and science fiction authors often create poetry for their invented cultures. J.R.R. Tolkien famously
wrote different kinds of poetry for elves, dwarves, hobbits, and humans, and the rhythms and subject
matter of their poetry was supposed to show how these races differed from one another. In a more
humorous vein, many Star Trek fans have taken to writing love poetry in the invented Klingon
language.
III. The Importance of Poetry. Poetry is probably the oldest form of literature, and probably predates
the origin of writing itself. The oldest written manuscripts we have are poems, mostly epic poems
telling the stories of ancient mythology. Examples include the Epic of Gilgamesh and the Vedas
(sacred texts of Hinduism). This style of writing may have developed to help people memorize long
chains of information in the days before writing. Rhythm and rhyme can make the text more
memorable, and thus easier to preserve for cultures that do not have a written language. Poetry can
be written with all the same purposes as any other kind of literature – beauty, humor, storytelling,
political messages, etc.
IV. Examples in of Poetry Literature

Example 1: This is an excerpt from Joyce Kilmer’s famous short poem. The poem employs a fairly
standard rhyme scheme (AABB, lines 1 and 2 rhymes together and lines 3 and 4 rhymes together),
and a meter called “iambic tetrameter,” which is commonly employed in children’s rhymes.
I think that I shall never see --> A
a poem lovely as a tree…--> A
poems are made by fools like me,--> B
but only God can make a tree.--> B
(Joyce Kilmer, Trees)
Example 2: These are the first few lines of Howl, one of the most famous examples of modern “free
verse” poetry. It has no rhyme, and no particular meter. But its words still have a distinct, rhythmic
quality, and the line breaks encapsulate the meaning of the poem. Notice how the last word of each
line contributes to the imagery of a corrupt, ravaged city (“madness, naked, smoking”), with one
exception: “heavenly.” This powerful juxtaposition goes to the heart of Ginsburg’s intent in writing the
poem – though what that intent is, you’ll have to decide for yourself.
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness,
starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking
for an angry fix,
angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly
connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,
who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking… (Alan Ginsberg, Howl)
Example 3: This poem by the Japanese poet Basho is a haiku. This highly influential Japanese
style has no rhymes, but it does have a very specific meter – five syllables in the first line, seven in
the second line, and five in the third line.
In the twilight rain,
these brilliant-hued hibiscus –
A lovely sunset
V. Examples of Poetry in Popular Culture

Example 1: Gil Scott-Heron - Save the Children. Rapping originated as a kind of performance
poetry. In the 1960s and 70s, spoken word artists like Gil Scott-Heron began performing their poems
over live or synthesized drumbeats, a practice that sparked all of modern hip hop. Even earlier, the
beat poets of the 1950s sometimes employed drums in their readings.
Example 2: Beowulf – Trailer. Some of the most famous historical poems have been turned into
movies or inspired episodes of television shows. Beowulf, for example, is an Anglo-Saxon epic poem
that has spawned at least 8 film adaptations, most recently a 2007 animated film starring Angelina
Jolie and Anthony Hopkins. Edgar Allen Poe’s The Raven has also inspired many pop culture
spinoffs with its famous line, “Nevermore.”
Kristian Sendon CORDERO. Poems translated from the Rinconada, Bikol and Filipino
About Rinconada, Bikol, and Filipino: The Bikol languages are a group of Central Philippine
languages spoken mostly on the Bicol Peninsula in the island of Luzon, the neighbouring island
province of Catanduanes and the island of Burias of Masbate. There is a dialect continuum between
the Visayan languages and the Bikol languages; the two together are called the Bisakol languages.
The Rinconada language is spoken in the 5th political district of Camarines Sur. The Filipino/
Tagalog is considered as the national language of the Philippines.
Read the poem:

MAYON
Kristian Sendon Cordero, Camarines Sur
1
Ayon sa alamat, lason ng pana ni Pagtuga,
Ang lumikha sa bulkan – libingan ito
Ng dalagang namatay sa isang digmaan.
Ngayon, ano ang tutubo sa paanan ng Mayon
Gayong nagiging malawak na itong sementeryo
Ng abo, ng tao. Manganganak na kaya ito?
2
Tinitigan ko ang nakangangang bulkan – binalot
Ng ulap at ng sariling usok ang tuktok, gatas sa labi.
Baka sakali, magpakita, nang may silbi ang kamera.
3
Sa ilang retrato na ibinebenta ng mga bata sa Cagsawa
Lusaw na tae ang nagliliyab na lava, dumadaloy pababa.
Matandang nag-nganganga ayon naman sa isang makata.
4
Sa isang lumang postcard na nakita ko sa Antigo Merkado—
Kapag sa malayo, isa siyang magandang sikyung nakatanod,
Handa sa pagkapkap, naghihintay sa iyong pagpasok.
Old Buddha Sitting on Nagã
DON’T mistake it for a piece of rock

Cast on the wayside, and found.
Mark the seven serpent heads, symbols
Of wisdom rising from the ground.
Feel its stare, the eyes are sometimes
Shut, absolutely without pride:
Never atone for your sins—this he has long
known and will not abide—
And you will be born again human.
The known thief becomes a grasshopper;
Drowned in the well the unrepentant adulterer.
If you fear waking up a locust, you might yet
Start now and try learning to be a poet.
Towards St. Elmo’s Isle

1
IN and out, coming and going,
the stevedores were bustling at the pier.
Feet were racing each other unloading
things needed for the fiesta.
The boat had to leave
before eight or it would be grounded
by the receding tide.
2
For every minute of delay
the Enchanted Rock rose out of the water—
the magnetic islet that even
the most skilled pilots feared.
3
Grains of sand blew in the wind
and stuck to hair.
The spray caught in the skin
of passengers
and hardened into salt.
So they chased time.
So time chased them.
The Universe According to the Earth
RECURRENCE does not repeat itself.

1
Even the same names of the dead
intoned in masses intended to redeem
and silence them—
2
The souls the old bell called in
when the wind, fire, and water were one
inside a volcano’s bowels.
3
It cannot be repeated. This was how they blamed
heaven that now stood accused. They wrapped their rage
and raging raised again the towers and edifices
with the black stones that were proof of the last ruinous tempest
4
They carved the scenes in memory:
how everything is repeatedly buried, obliterated.
The wound festers
and the rot eats the rest of the skin.
5
To calm human fear and fury
he returned to religion that became the new science:
Only belief in the soul shall save the body.
Everything returns to earth.
6
Nothing will be left of what’s left.
Everything will recur but nothing will be repeated
not even prayers, not love.
7
This is how memory is honed, exercised. This is how
the universe of man expands,
the man who would now be looking up a volcano,
questioning the season of leaves folding.
8
Man now knows that knowing time is just the same
as scooping up the sand that covers his land.
He crushes it in his hand. Watch.
Recurrence does not repeat itself.
The Melancholy of the Ancient Fire
I.
It was the ancient love for fire seared the hearts of the first humans—
In the middle of kindling they found each other. Inside a cave was born
all sense of belonging. Outside, tiger and bull gave chase, a python snapped up
a mouse and butterflies were starting to open their wings like flowers:
yellow, white, glistening black, beneath the graying sky.
II.
The ancient love for fire was not a new religion brought to us
by muscular foreigners. The sun has long been worshipped in the old realm—
its heat suffused the breast: and the heart ripened.
The seed in the seedling was buried to slumber under the fragrant earth,
filling the world with the seven colors of the rainbow; words were silent
cries, understood like water slaking a dry throat.
III.
The ancient love for fire enters the consciousness, flesh to flesh, blood to blood.
If all the light of the ancient fire fades and we are devoured by the harshest worries—
Hush, for in the middle of the whole wide world someone will light a cigar
and console himself, collecting all the memories, putting down the saddest lyrics
of the people before the volcano exuding slow deliquescent fire from its full erect peak.
The Day a Storm with my Mother’s Name Came

1
LUCIA, was what Father uttered at once
the moment he heard news of a coming storm—
a name he looked at and looked over for all time,
as he straddled what could be sea or soil on fire*.
2
The wind had begun to whistle so we fixed
the wall and roof together with my younger brother.
We roped the windows tight and stowed the rice
up where they wouldn’t get wet in a flood.
3
At the other house, we could hear the static
on the failing radio, the dogs were barking
and the banana plants were starting to rattle like teeth,
the kapok pods were falling on the overgrown yard.
4
Black ants lined up in procession towards the jar
that we used to store chunks of molasses and sugared
coconut flesh: Sweetness, it seemed was not taste
alone, but part of scent and memory.
5
At the chair sat my unspeaking father,
he’d been there long waiting for the spray of rain
coming in, sunlight, song, fever, chest pain, medicine,
and life pouring its last drops
6
While he looked over and uttered each of the letters
in Mother’s name, who was coming as a storm,
a name looked at and looked over for all time
as he straddled what could be sea or soil on fire.
*Idiom in the original which means severe suffering
Melancholy
1
YOU can’t fly it in the wind,
or it becomes a whirlwind.
2
You can’t plant it in the earth,
or the earth will tremble.
3
You can’t cast it to the waves,
or the sea will be feverish.
4
But you can only warm it
Around the fire in the company
of strangers while rubbing your palms
together and bringing them to your face,
neck, chest, forehead.
5
Outside dreams freeze
and the smell of burning hair spreads.
Stigmata on the Tongue

THEY imprisoned the poet in the fort of female saints and there taught him prayerpoems. His first
attempts produced foul utterances, words that were like stigmata on the
tongue. Until they gave him the Word’s flesh, Its taste could only reach the tip of his
tongue. He had since discovered other words: First, that oath or promise never meant
anything, courage hemorrhaged while each letter of principle, truth, or life, rotted.
Passion itself was ablaze, a ball of fire searing the linings of his throat.
What he couldn’t write was—love, it was much too cold, like long dead bread.
Translated from the Bikol and the Filipino by Marne Kilates
Ode to Nothingness
by Way of Some Things
Tangerine
1
OUTSIDE the window
a farmer teases the lightning
that become like fingers
2
pointing, scaring
the carabao.
3
While I eat,
my tongue feels the seeds
of this tart tangerine
4
which I throw to the ground
without any hope
for an afterlife.
Shells
1
By the doorway
the shells
hang.
2
When they touch each other
because of the wind,
3
he longs
for the old occupants
of the house.
Glass Jars
1
The empty glass jars
are saved,
and cleaned
2
until the brittle things
end crystalline.
They are dried under the sun,
3
and wiped by the wind.
Then they will be placed
on a tabletop.
4
You wonder where
the force that will break them
will come from.
5
They stand there silent,
the finger prints
of those who cleaned them
still visible.
The First Burial
1
THE couple finally found
the dead body of their son.
He is sprawled on the farm
of his elder brother.
2
The father examined if there
was a trace of snake bites
or he was holding the fruit
of the tree forbidden them.
3
The corpse already stinks
so the pair dug deep to return
to dust what came from dust.
4
That night, they began to sleep
beside each other for seven days,
with the siblings. They have to multiply.
Prayer
1
I circle around God, around the primordial tower
I’ve been circling for thousand of years
And I still don’t know: am I a falcon
A storm or a great song?
- Rainier Maria Rilke
2
When I pray
I become like a votive candle
being lit and planted on a slate.
3
I must admit I sense a whiff
of pride when I feel
4
I talk to God and He to me,
in a different way.
5
I also feel happy
with the marriage of faith
and doubt in me.
6
Sometimes, I pray as if
I am only talking to myself,
7
like a solitary candle straining to stay burning
steadily in meditation before the Almighty
8
Until the slate, the wick, the flame,
the wind, and god all merged in me
9
and leave me uncertain of who I am
10
whether I am a fool, a seared bud, a dove,
or an unfinished poem.
Translated from the Rinconada, the Filipino and the Bikol by Frank Penoñes Jr.
About the Translators:

• Frank Peñones Jr. is one of Bikol's respected literary icons. He has received writing and
study grants from the University of the Philippines, Cultural Center of the Philippines and the
FordInternational. Author of Ragang Rinaranga: Rawitdawit/Poems (2005) published by
Agnus Pressin Naga City, he has won several times in the Saint Peter Baptist Catholic Mass
Media Awards, 2005
• Premio Tomas Arejola Para Sa Literaturang Bikol, the Palanca, the Sumagang Awards
ForLiterature and Journalism and is one of the recipients of Outstanding Bikolano Artists
Awards for2009. He recently finished his MFA at San Jose State University in California.
• Marne Kilates is an award-winning poet, translator, communications consultant, and former
advertising copywriter and creative director. He has published six books of poetry, the latest
of which are Lyrical Objects (UST Publishing House, 2016), and Time’s Enchantment & Other
Reflections (Ateneo de Naga University Press, 2015). He has won the Don Carlos Palanca
Memorial Awards, National Book Awards, and the Southeast Asia (S.E.A. Write) Award given
by the King of Thailand. He has translated into English numerous books by leading poets
writing in the national language, including National Artists for Literature Virgilio S. Almario (Rio
Alma) and Bienvenido Lumbera. Kilates was the holder of the Henry Lee Irwin Professorial
Chair for Creative Writing (Poetry) at the Ateneo de Manila University for academic year 2011-
2012. He was named Poet of the Year in the Philippines Graphic Nick Joaquin Literary Awards
in 2013. In 2014, he was honoredas an Outstanding Citizen for the Literary Arts in his home
province of Albay
Your, Etcetera
By Paolo Manalo
1
The height of graffiti in bathroom stalls.
The heart’s crude affection etched on a tree.
2
On sidewalk pavements, initial encounters.
3
Sometimes a name, sometimes a number
Where you could be reached. Imaginary or otherwise
4
You were here.
5
You are here. Addressing the fine
Print of certificates, walking
6
Papers: the many forms to fill out
Before you fill in.
The Gospel According to the Blind Man,

by Marie La Viña
1
“I see people looking like trees and walking,” said the blind man,
after Jesus touched him the first time.
What he said baffled even the human god.
“They are walking around with arms outstretched,” he said.
“Their palms brush the sky. The stars slip through their long fingers.
The moonlight spills into a river and darts away like a school of silver fish
while the leaves moan in the trees in a hundred human voices.
Branches argue with wind. Locusts buzz in the night’s tangled hair.”
He asked in wonder, “Is this the world?”
Then the god lifted his holy palms, wet with spit,
and held them over the man’s eyes.
Twice touched by him, the man muttered, “Wait.”
But already he was healed.
Prayer
1
I circle around God, around the primordial tower
2
I’ve been circling for thousands of years And I still don’t know: am I a falcon
3
A storm or a great song?
Rainier Maria Rilke
1
When I pray I become like a votive candle being lit and planted on a slate.
2
I must admit I sense a whiff of pride
when I feel I talk to God and He to me, in a different way.
3
I also feel happy with the marriage of faith and doubt in me.
Sometimes, I pray as if I am only talking to myself,
like a solitary candle straining to stay burning steadily
in meditation before the Almighty
Until the slate, the wick, the flame, the wind,
and god all merged in me and leave me uncertain of who I am whether I am a fool, a seared bud, a
dove, or an unfinished poem.
4
Translated from the Rinconada, the Filipino and the Bikol by Frank Penoñes Jr.
Third World Geography
By Cerilo F. Bautista
1
A country without miracles. Sits heavy on the map
Thinking of banana trees rotting. In the sunlight
2
The man who watches over it. Has commandeered all hopes
Placed them in a sack. And tied its loose ends
3
He goes around carrying it. On his back
And when asked what is inside. He say, Just a handful of feathers,
4
Just a handful of feathers’. That’s how light the burden of our
5
Government is in peace time. Any tyrant can turn it into a metaphor
You kneel on the parched earth. And pray for the rice" Only the wind
6
Hears your useless words". The country without miracles
Tries to get up from the page. But the bold line and sharp colors, hold it down"
Archaeology
by Eliza Victoria
Not satisfied with the sight of bodies placed side by side, they powered up the tractors and
started crushing bones beneath the machinery, folding and re-folding until anonymity was achieved.
Years later, experts went down there on hands and knees, digging up limbs powdered and scattered
like the kitchenware of a lost culture. One of them peered up at the impossibly blue sky and remarked
at the wind, What a nice place to fly kites. Somewhere in the four hundred bags they had filled so far
was the boy who once ran on this field, burning his fingers with the beauty of ascension. The interns
always cried whenever the bags were sieved. In the white glare of the examination rooms, the bones
and the pottery shards looked the same.
A mother had already been handed four hollow pieces of her child’s rib cage, and days after
the burial, she was seen walking around the clearing, at one point bending down to pick up a pebble.
The place was sacred to her. Every piece of the place was sacred to her. During a storm, as she
held on to the walls of her house, the wind gave her an idea and now she respected every open
ground. Who knew how strong a wind could blow? Who could foresee the extent of a body’s
transformation? She put an end to the habit of kicking at loose soil whenever she was angry or
pensive. Her face took on the shape and lines of a tourist lost in an unknown land, peering at eyes,
searching, searching. This could be my child, she whispered to herself, and held the pebble close to
her chest.
Eliza Victoria lives in the Philippines. Her fiction and poetry have appeared in various
publications based in her country and elsewhere, most recently in The Pedestal Magazine, The
Houston Literary Review, Philippine Speculative Fiction V and Usok. Her work has received prizes
in the Carlos Palanca Memorial Awards for Literature and the Philippines Free Press Literary Awards,
two of the most prestigious literary awards in the Philippines.
THE DISCOVERY OF LANDSCAPE

Lawrence Ypil
1
When we saw the city,
We believed again in time.
Line of the tall spires and the bend
Of a bright sky.
2
We believed again in space.
Light of the large looms
and the roof of the great eye.
We believed again in perfectibility
(if not perfection), in the fresh
(if not the new).
3
We named it progress. The past
was not warm, so we named it dead.
We named everything we could not touch
4
Passed. We believed
Again in what was large.
Might of the long road and
The risk of the big wish.
When we made the step back.
5
Look. There. Clear measure
Of the flock on the far tip,
Of all the missed trips.
When we saw the city—
Rowena, at Camp Lookout,
by Edith L. Tiempo
It’s now a century, since

Keats heard the soft pipes play
A darkling tune,
Blowing and breathing
From cold marble stone.
Now the cold stars burn
Blue holes above this slope,
And she cries, “Old magic trick! That star’s
No more―its light
Is from a million years ago!”
The thought I render sotto voce
Is spoken to the past―
Another time, another place
Catapulting, star-like,
To this young girl on the slope,
That far child that she was,
Crying out (as now)
A startled praise:
(“A Look, a rambler rose-vine hung with bloom!”)
That past day flinging here, star-fashion,
So that finished rose and vanished star,
In a wondering cry,
Endure as one.
Subterranean
by Eric Gamalinda
1
Let me be the first to say
that I know the name for everything
and if I don’t I’ll make them up:
dukha, naufragio, talinhaga.
Just like the young
whose hearts give no shame,
I love the excesses of beauty,
there is never enough sunlight
in the world I will live in,
never enough room for love.
2
I fear none of us will last long enough
to prove what I’ve always suspected,
that the sky is a membrane
in an angel’s skull,
trees talk to each other at night,
ice is water in a state of silence,
the embryo listens to everything we say.
21st C e n t u r y L i t e r a t u r e f r o m t h e P h i l i p p i n e s a n d t h e W o r l d P a g e 17 | 197
3
I am afraid for the child skipping rope
on the corner of my street,
the girl on the train with flowers in her hair,
the man whose memory is entirely
in Spanish. I am more afraid of losing consciousness
when I go to sleep, or that in my sleep
I will grow old and forget how desire
once drove me mad with wakefulness.
4
Just like the perfect seasons
they will die
and I will die
and you will die also;
no one knows who will go first,
and this is the source
of all my grief.
Third World Geography

By: Cirilo F. Bautista
A country without miracles

sits heavy on the map,
thinking of banana trees rotting
in the sunlight.
The man who watches over it
has commandeered all hopes,
placed them in a sack,
and tied its loose end.
He goes around carrying it
on his back.
When asked what is inside,
he says, “Just a handful of feathers,
just a handful of feathers.”
That’s how light the burden
of government is in peace time–
any tyrant can turn it into a metaphor.
You kneel on the parched earth
and pray for rice. Only the wind
hears your useless words.
The country without miracles
tries to get up from the page,
but the bold ink and sharp colors
hold it down.
“GEOGRAPHY LESSON,” FROM DARK HOURS,
POEMS BY CONCHITINA CRUZ
1
Inside the story is a garden with a pear tree, the view of a house with a staircase and mahogany
desks. Inside the house is a woman with her back against the windows, her body bent over her
child inside a crib, her body leaning against a table as she fixes the fruit in a bowl.
2
From the back of the room, somebody mentions foreshadowing, somebody makes distinctions
between image and symbol. The board is filled with words.
3
Inside the story is a dinner part the woman hosts, the idle talk of guests, the moment her husband
leans toward the body of another woman. She watches her husband and his small gesture, the
drawing room unable to contain her sudden knowledge. Inside the story, the woman turns away
from the climax, turns to the windows and the pear tree outside, the symbol of her life, the tree in
full bloom, the tree caught in shadows.
4
We talk about the tragedy of false notions, the link between discovery and despair, the joy of
understatement. When there is a knock on the door, a request to take a minute of our time, I say
sure. We are inside the story, and to the students outside, I say, sure, come on in.
5
What they pass around is a can, a sheet of paper, a request for loose change and volunteers to dig
for bodies. A few miles away, the residents of a dumpsite are dead, their bodies buried in an
avalanche of trash. Inside the story, the woman cries, what will happen to me now?
6
On the first day, the dying tried to raise their voices above the weight of their own tin roofs. The
digging was slow, the voices stopped. Inside the story, the woman fixes fruit in a bowl — apples,
oranges, and grapes. She arranges and rearranges fruit, draping the grapes on the rim, balancing
the oranges on apples.
7
The relatives need bodies for a proper burial. The can grows heavy. The students pause carefully
upon the sheet, and the others say think about it, we have a booth on the third floor, you don’t have
to sign up now. Inside the story there is a woman, a house, a man, a pear tree. Inside the story is a
house, a bowl full of fruit. Some students are braver than others. They write their names down.
8
The woman leans the sadness of her body against the window, tries to look beyond the pear tree.
Inside the story, she sees nothing but darkness. She is ungrateful for the luxury of despair.
Sorrow,
by Rolando S. Tinio
1
The rubber tree by the boulevard is sad
and so is the acacia behind the rubber tree.
The whole world seems about to rain.
My love has left me, she is gone.
2
The water, ashen as always, is sad
and so are the three rusty ships by the bay,
and behind them, the clouds like melting lead.
My love has left me, she is gone.
3
The coconut leaves droop,
delicately swaying
to the wind that lashes, the playing
children unmindful
of sadness’ edge that is sharp like a knife, like a razor.
4
And I remember a song full of despair,
like a stinging wound squeezed some more.
And I remember my love who has gone
like a cloud pausing for some time,
then moving on to its many journeys through the sky
and which I think will never, never again pass by.
Third World Geography,

by Cirilo F. Bautista
A country without miracles

sits heavy on the map,
thinking of banana trees rotting
in the sunlight.
The man who watches over it
has commandeered all hopes,
placed them in a sack,
and tied its loose end.
He goes around carrying it
on his back.
When asked what is inside,
he says, “Just a handful of feathers,
just a handful of feathers.”
That’s how light the burden
of government is in peace time–
any tyrant can turn it into a metaphor.
You kneel on the parched earth
and pray for rice. Only the wind
hears your useless words.
The country without miracles
tries to get up from the page,
but the bold ink and sharp colors
hold it down.
Spaces
Arkaye Kierulf
1.
In this room I was born. And I knew I was in the wrong place: the world. I knew pain was to come. I
knew it by the persistence of the blade that cut me out. I knew it as every baby born to the world
knows it: I came here to die.
2.
Somewhere a beautiful woman in a story I do not understand is crying. If I strain hard enough I will
hear a song in the background. She is holding a letter. She is in love with Peter. I am in love with
her.
3.
Stand on the floor where it’s marked X. I am standing by your side where it’s marked Y. We are a
shoulder’s length apart. I’m so close you can almost smell the perfume. If I step ten paces away
from you, there could be a garden between us, or a table and some chairs. If I step another 20
paces there could be a house between us. If I continue to walk away from you in this way, tramping
through walls and hovering above water, in 80,150,320 steps I will bump into you. I can never get
away from you, and will you remember me? Distance brings us closer. There is no distance.
4.
In 1961 I was in Berlin. It was a dusty Sunday in August. In the radio news was out that Ulbricht
had convinced Khrushchev to build a wall around West Berlin. I remember it precisely: By midnight
East German troops had sealed off the zonal boundary with barbed wire. The streets along which
the barrier ran had been torn up. I lived in that street. It was the day after my birthday. I remember
the dust covering the sky. I remember being scared. Father had not returned from the other side.
The Kampfgruppen der Arbeiterklasse had orders to shoot anyone who would attempt to defect.
Father had not returned.
5.
Happiness is simple.
Sadness forks into many roads.
6.
Before the time of Christ, Aristotle believed that the earth was the center of the universe because
he needed a stationary reference point against which to measure all other motions: a rock falling, a
star reeling through the sky, his heart beating against his chest like a club. He needed to believe in
certainty, in absolute space. Without it, the world would not be known absolutely. Without it, the
world cannot be known.
Twenty centuries later Hendrik Lorentz needed to believe that every single molecule in the
universe must move through a stationary material called the aether, as every human being in his
various turnings must move through God. Scientists looked everywhere for proof of this aether.
And everywhere they found nothing.
7.
I have sometimes been accused of being a bore. I beg to differ: people laugh at my jokes, and I’m
handsome. I would like now to talk more about myself: I don’t like going to airports and hospitals.
They make me uneasy. In both cases, somebody is always going to leave. I was born in 1983, and
have never been to Berlin. But I have a memory of being in Berlin in 1961. I have a memory of
something that never happened.
I would like to elaborate on myself, but you will understand if I talk instead about the sky in Berlin in
1961: it was covered with dust. There were no birds. There was no sky.
8.
Memory is brutal because precise.
9.
She said: give me more space. I said: don’t you love me anymore? She said: give me more space.
I said: why? Did I do something wrong? Is there something wrong? Is there someone else? When
did you stop loving me? In what precise moment? In what room? What city?
I held her tight as one who’s about to lose his own life holds on. Then she said: give me more
space. I said: no.
10.
I have only one purpose: to live intensely.
11.
I wish I never met you
and I wish you never left.
You taste like a river in June.
12.
I’m going to say something important. Look at my face. Ignore my eyes. Just listen to me. But listen
only to the timbre of my voice, not to what I am saying. They are different. They are two different
rooms. The first is an exhibition of despair, the second only an explanation.
The first is all you have to listen to. So listen carefully because I cannot repeat myself:
“Everything/ one suspects to be true/ is true.”
13.
In 1879 a boy is born in Germany. At age five he’d throw a chair at his violin teacher and chase him
out. In time he would develop the capacity to withdraw instantaneously from a crowd into
loneliness. At twenty-six he would publish his theory of relativity in Annalen der Physik. He looks
crazy, but he is certain: there is no aether, no absolute space.
14.
Sometimes they thought it was the words.
What they wanted to say could not be said.
They fixed the TV, vacuumed the rug,
dusted the furniture, looked out the window.
Sometimes she would purposefully lose hold of
a plate and it would smash to the floor.
Then they would have something to say,
only to begin to say it then stop.
15.
Look at this box. It is empty except for a diary, a book, and this picture in my hand. Now look at this
picture. It weighs nothing and occupies almost zero space. I can slip it in anywhere and it will fit:
inside the diary, under the box, through a crack on the wall. If I tear it several times, it will occupy a
different volume, many and various. It mutates, you see. If I burn it, it will smoke into the air. It will
take up a whole expanse.
16.
How many more times
are you going to let the world
hurt you?
17.
My father is an incorrigible storyteller. He would tell the same stories in different ways. I wouldn’t
know which ones to believe. So I believed all of them. “There is no story that is not true,” said
Uchendu.
Father would point at the TV. He would repeat lines, rehearse the beginnings and ends, explicate
with his hands the elaborate twists and turns of every road.
He said: “I am dying.”
I said: “But aren’t all of us dying.”
18.
And I thought the world
was about this leaving,
not about anybody’s leaving
but about this leaving.
The next day it was the same.
19.
A beautiful woman walks into a room. The room is dark. There are no windows. There is one light
bulb but any time now it will go off. I pretend not to notice and look away, my heart beating against
my chest like a club. If I strain hard enough I will hear a song in the background. What other forms
of happiness are there than this?
20.
In 1989 the Berlin wall falls down.
21.
I believe in love only when it rains.
22.
To appreciate the value of land, one need only look into a painting: so much beauty. Buying land
means buying the layers of beauty directly above it. It means buying the sky above it. And the birds
above it, the clouds, the gods.
In truth you are buying a corner of the universe. You are saying: this is my room. You are saying: I
live here. Here I exist.
23.
Your sadness is immaterial. You did
not come into the world to be happy.
You came to suffer/survive.
24.
How many words have you spoken in your life?
How many did you mean?
How many did you understand?
25.
Somebody picks up a phone. He dials a number. His voice travels a thousand miles into another
country. On the other end somebody picks up and hears the voice. Who is this?– This is me. The
phone is hung up. The voice travels back a thousand miles.
Elsewhere somebody picks up a phone and before he could dial forgets the number.
26.
Sometimes wars are waged because there are too many people in too few rooms.
27.
Memory is incomplete–lost.
The world is incomplete–vanishing.
Nothing more happens. You open your eyes and it’s over.
Memory is brutal.
Memory is precise.
28.
In the next room people I do not know are talking with hushed voices. Their secret slips out the
window like a cat. It is raining, and I press my ear to the wall. I imagine that one of them is smoking
a cigarette. I imagine that one of them is covering his mouth in surprise.
29.
When my aunt died the doctors said the fat clogged her arteries. Every week she visited the
hospital, and every week the vein on her wrist had to be ripped out so a catheter could be stuck
into her body to suck out her blood. You could see the plasma pass through a filter and then back
to the body. If you put your ear to her wrist you would hear her heart.
Before my uncle died the heart attacks were so excruciating he said he’d prefer to just die. They
transported him to the hospital, and on the way to the emergency room his heart gave. Mother said
my uncle ate too much pork and drank too much beer. She wonders if he’s going to be happy in
heaven.
30.
In some house in some province in some country in some novel there is a story of a man a father a
child a lover who dies because of too much sadness.
31.
Nobody thought that what was wrong was the love.
32.
She said: give me more space.
Lumbay
Mikael de Lara Co
1
Nalulumbay ang puno ng goma sa gilid ng bulibard at ang puno ng akasya sa likod ng goma.
Mukhang uulan sa buong mundo. Wala na ang mahal ko, iniwanan ako.
Nalulumbay ang tubig na laging kulay-abo
2
at ang tatlong bapor na kulay-kalawang sa laot, at sa likod, ang ulap na parang tinggang natunaw.
Wala na ang mahal ko, iniwanan ako.
Nakatungo ang mga dahon ng niyog, marahang pakampay-kampay sa hanging humahampas,
naglalarong anaki’y mga batang walang kamalay-malay sa talas-kutsilyo, talas-labaha ng lumbay.
At naalala ko ang isang awit na puno ng hinagpis, parang sugat na humahapdi, lalong tinitistis. At
naalala ko ang wala nang mahal ko na naparaan sa aking mundo, parang ulap na bumitin nang
ilang saglit, saka nagpatuloy sa maraming lakad sa himpapawid at, sa tingin ko, hindi na, hindi
babalik.
Learning Activities
1)Discuss about the following poems. What do you think about the poems. Explain a particular stanza
a) Mayon Volcano.
b) Prayer
c) Spaces
d) Lumbay
2)Why do you think people love this tourist destination?
3)Have you seen Mount Mayon up close? If yes, how did you react when you saw it for the first time?
4)Can other events have the same effect on us as a volcanic eruption? Name some.
5)What are the different scenarios in the present time that show oppression?
6)Present a 3 minutes dramatization video of the different instances of oppression in the present time.
7)Discuss: How do 21st century people combat oppression in their simple ways?
8)Give a short actual historical data on what happened during the time of Marcos.
9)Identify the various images in the poem
10)how the poem Mayon can be interpreted literally and figuratively
11)Write a short critique of the poem focusing on how the images in the poem present the experience of
viewing Mount Mayon
12)Research into an aspect of four different region’s culture and present it to the class via a five-minute video
presentation that may be recorded or on print.
13)Cut out news clippings of oppression happening in other parts of the world, paste this on a sheet of paper
and write your reaction about it.
14)Write about the realities of struggles that happen in a country faced with an oppressive ruler.
15)Relate the details and images in the poem and how it can be related to actual historical events in the story.
16)Explain the dramatic situation presented in the poem.
17)Explain how allegory was demonstrated in the poem by identifying the literal and symbolic meaning of the
poem.
18)Search for a blog site about oppression and write your reaction about the blog on a ½ sheet of paper. (The
blog site search should be given as a home work, the reaction will be written in class)
Essay
An essay is a form of writing in paragraph form that uses informal language, although it can be
written formally. Essays may be written in first-person point of view (I, ours, mine), but third-person
(people, he, she) is preferable in most academic essays. Essays do not require research as most
academic reports and papers do; however, they should cite any literary works that are used within
the paper.
When thinking of essays, we normally think of the five-paragraph essay: Paragraph 1 is the
introduction, paragraphs 2-4 are the body covering three main ideas, and paragraph 5 is the
conclusion. Sixth and seventh graders may start out with three paragraph essays in order to learn
the concepts. However, essays may be longer than five paragraphs. Essays are easier and quicker
to read than books, so are a preferred way to express ideas and concepts when bringing them to
public attention.
II. Examples of Essays
Example 1: Through each era of American history, well-known figures in areas such as politics,
literature, the arts, business, etc., voiced their opinions through short and long essays. Many of our
most famous Americans have written essays. Writers who wrote essays about being good citizens
and concepts to build the new United States.
• Benjamin Franklin,
• Thomas Paine,
• Thomas Jefferson
In the pre-Civil War days of the 1800s, people such as:

• Ralph Waldo Emerson (an author) wrote essays on self-improvement
• Susan B. Anthony wrote on women’s right to vote
• Frederick Douglass wrote on the issue of African Americans’ future in the U.S.
Example 2: The ultimate persuasive essay that most students learn about and read in social studies
is the “Declaration of Independence” by Thomas Jefferson in 1776. Other founding fathers edited
and critiqued it, but he drafted the first version. He builds a strong argument by stating his premise
(claim) then proceeds to give the evidence in a straightforward manner before coming to his logical
conclusion.
III. Types of Essays

a) Expository. Essays written to explore and explain ideas are called expository essays (they
expose truths). These will be more formal types of essays usually written in third person, to
be more objective. There are many forms, each one having its own organizational pattern.
Cause/Effect essays explain the reason (cause) for something that happens after (effect).
Definition essays define an idea or concept. Compare/Contrast essays will look at two items
and show how they are similar (compare) and different (contrast).
b) Persuasive. An argumentative paper presents an idea or concept with the intention of
attempting to change a reader’s mind or actions. These may be written in second person,
using “you” in order to speak to the reader. This is called a persuasive essay. There will be a
premise (claim) followed by evidence to show why you should believe the claim.
c) Narrative. Narrative means story, so narrative essays will illustrate and describe an event of
some kind to tell a story. Most times, they will be written in first person. The writer will use
descriptive terms, and may have paragraphs that tell a beginning, middle, and end in place of
the five paragraphs with introduction, body, and conclusion. However, if there is a lesson to
be learned, a five-paragraph may be used to ensure the lesson is shown.
d) Descriptive. The goal of a descriptive essay is to vividly describe an event, item, place,
memory, etc. This essay may be written in any point of view, depending on what’s being
described. There is a lot of freedom of language in descriptive essays, which can include
figurative language, as well.
IV. The Importance of Essays. Essays are an important piece of literature that can be used in a
variety of situations. They’re a flexible type of writing, which makes them useful in many settings.
History can be traced and understood through essays from theorists, leaders, artists of various arts,
and regular citizens of countries throughout the world and time. For students, learning to write essays
is also important because as they leave school and enter college and/or the work force, it is vital for
them to be able to express themselves well.
V. Examples of Essays in Literature
Example 1: Sir Francis Bacon was a leading philosopher who influenced the colonies in the 1600s.
Many of America’s founding fathers also favored his philosophies toward government. Bacon wrote
an essay titled “Of Nobility” in 1601, in which he defines the concept of nobility in relation to people
and government. The following is the introduction of his definition essay. Note the use of “we” for his
point of view, which includes his readers while still sounding rather formal.
“We will speak of nobility, first as a portion of an estate, then as a condition of particular persons. A
monarchy, where there is no nobility at all, is ever a pure and absolute tyranny; as that of the Turks.
For nobility attempers sovereignty, and draws the eyes of the people, somewhat aside from the line
royal. But for democracies, they need it not; and they are commonly more quiet, and less subject to
sedition, than where there are stirps of nobles. For men’s eyes are upon the business, and not upon
the persons; or if upon the persons, it is for the business’ sake, as fittest, and not for flags and
pedigree. We see the Switzers last well, notwithstanding their diversity of religion, and of cantons.
For utility is their bond, and not respects. The united provinces of the Low Countries, in their
government, excel; for where there is an equality, the consultations are more indifferent, and the
payments and tributes, more cheerful. A great and potent nobility, addeth majesty to a monarch, but
diminisheth power; and putteth life and spirit into the people, but presseth their fortune. It is well,
when nobles are not too great for sovereignty nor for justice; and yet maintained in that height, as
the insolency of inferiors may be broken upon them, before it come on too fast upon the majesty of
kings. A numerous nobility causeth poverty, and inconvenience in a state; for it is a surcharge of
expense; and besides, it being of necessity, that many of the nobility fall, in time, to be weak in
fortune, it maketh a kind of disproportion, between honor and means.”
Example 2: A popular modern day essayist is Barbara Kingsolver. Her book, “Small Wonders,” is
full of essays describing her thoughts and experiences both at home and around the world. Her
intention with her essays is to make her readers think about various social issues, mainly concerning
the environment and how people treat each other. The link below is to an essay in which a child in
an Iranian village she visited had disappeared. The boy was found three days later in a bear’s cave,
alive and well, protected by a mother bear. She uses a narrative essay to tell her story.
VI. Examples of Essays in Pop Culture

Example 1: Many rap songs are basically mini essays, expressing outrage and sorrow over social
issues today, just as the 1960s had a lot of anti-war and peace songs that told stories and described
social problems of that time. Any good song writer will pay attention to current events and express
ideas in a creative way.
Example 2: A well-known essay written in 1997 by Mary Schmich, a columnist with the Chicago
Tribune, was made into a popular video on MTV by Baz Luhrmann. Schmich’s thesis is to wear
sunscreen, but she adds strong advice with supporting details throughout the body of her essay,
reverting to her thesis in the conclusion.
ESSAY:
HOME OF THE ASHFALL
John Jack Wigley - Pampanga
The eruption of Mount Pinatubo was recorded as the second largest terrestrial eruption of the
20th century, and the largest eruption populated area. Ash fall, which formed a weighty, rain‐
drenched snow‐like film, affected almost the entire island of Luzon, and even reached the
neighbouring countries of Malaysia and Vietnam. It was further aggravated because of Typhoon
Yunya, which brought with it heavy rains and strong winds. To the Kampampagans and to the people
affected by this tragedy, it would serve as a testament to their irrepressible attribute of rising about
their plight and predicament.
I was no longer living in Angeles City when Mt. Pinatubo erupted on June 15, 1991. I was
promoted from being a crew member at Pizza Hut Dau to management trainee at Pizza Hut Harrison
Plaza in December 1990. After being a service crew member for more than four years and graduating
from college in 1989, I had to say goodbye to my hometown where I lived for more than two decades.
It was my first time to work in manila. I asked the assistance of Ed Calupitan, a fellow Pizza Hut Dau
crew member now based in Manila, to help me find a place to stay. He was living in a two‐bedroom
apartment and gladly offered the other room to me.
Weeks before the eruption, I read several news and warnings about Mt. Piantubo. Frankly, I
never knew that there was a volcano in the Zambales mountain range. Nobody among my
Kapampangan friends did. I guess we were all clueless about the impending danger this would cause
in our lives. Later on, I realized that the summit of the volcano was just fourteen kilometres away
from the extent of Clark Air Base. I thought that volcanoes were conspicuous mountains and had
fierce‐ looking summits like Maycn’s and Haicon’s. But this one was deeply hidden among the several
mountains called the Cabusilan mountains” of Zambales. How a volcano had managed to hide
among the mountains and be covered with a defence forest was something I couldn’t comprehend.
If it was bound the erupt, I guess it would be just like a firecracker.
Hell, I thought that if there was a mountain near us which I imagined would erupt anytime, it
would be the Arayat, which was located at the heart of Pampanga, with its open mouth and forbidding
countenance. Not this obscure mountain whose native inhabitants, the Aetas, never even knew
about, I paid no more attention to warnings.
I had only been in Manila for barely six months and was enjoying my new‐found
independence. I would sometimes go to Angeles City to see Mother during days off, which usually
fell on a weekday, since management people did not have the luxury of the day‐off during weekends
because it was the time when more people would go out and eat. Pizza Hut Harizon Plaza was a
high volume unit.
That fateful day, after my opening shift, I went to see a film. I t was “Hihintayin Kita sa Langit”,
a film adaction of Bronte’s “Wuthering Heights” directed by Carlitos Siguion Reyna. The film starred
erstwhile lovers played by Richard Gomez and Dawn Zulueta. I was feeling all mushy and
melodramatic after watching the film when, once outside, I saw parked cars covered with what
seemed like a whitish‐ gray blanket. And so were the streets. Is it finally showing in Manila? I thought,
as I felt some of the particles in my hand and smudge my shirt. When I looked closely and touched
them, they were grainy. It was like ash from an ashtray.
I saw farther down the riverbank that people were lining up to cross the river by stepping on
coconut trunks and wooden poles attached from one end to the other. The gaunt shirtless boot who
was juggling coins and walking to and fro shouted. “Pesus mu. Deng bisang lumakad papunta
Angeles, keni na kayo bang ali la mabasa deng bitis yu. For one peso, take this trail and your feet
wo’t get wet in the river”. I was about to fall in line but I realized that there as a long queue of people
already as far as the bend, waiting for their turn to get actions the river.
It would take me forever to get to other side if I fall in line, I thought. I talked to the person
behind me. “Malalam ya pu ing daanum. Is the water deep?”
“Tabalu. Bala mu, malalam pin. I dont know. It’s deep. I guess,” he immediately rejoined.
“Lawen me itang tau angga ne keng atyan na. Look at the guy crossing. The water’s up to his tummy,”
he said, pointing to the man.
It was deep, I contemplated. I didn’t want to take the risk of getting my clothes wet. I was also
thinking that perhaps the water that flowed down the river was contaminated because of the volcanic
ash and the sulphuric content of the water.
Just I saw about four barkers holding wooden chairs, inviting people to cross the river on these
chairs. They explained that people would be sitting on the chair and thr barkers themselves would
carry the chair to the other side for a fee of ten pesos. Despite the horrible sight before me, I forced
a smile I was thinking about how indestructible humans are. These people were still struggling to live
even if catastrophes like typhoons and volcanic eruptions had truck. Catastrophes constantly
plagued their lives. I felt deep admiration for them.
One barker thought my smile was an indication that I wanted to ride in the chair.
“Bisa kang sake. Would you like to take a ride?” he asked.
I was meaning to say no but I was speechless, still talking everything in. Besides, I wanted to
see my family. I nodded my head.
“Koya, padagdag naku mu keka ne. Kasi lupa kang mabayat. I’ll charge you extra. You look
heavy” the barker smiled fully; revealing he had no teeth.
For a moment, I wanted to pull his hair and drown his head in the river. This impertinent one.
I thought. He had to subtly insult my chubby body. But I surmised that he meant well.
It was not going to be easy carrying me to the other side of the river. I just simply agreed. I
sat on the chair and put the bag on my lap. The barker clasped an improvised rope seatbelt from
one and to the other. Yeah, like I would experience a terrible accident by forgetting to use this
seatbelt, I thought sarcastically.
Just hold the chair’s handles, sir it’s good that you came this early. Potang gatganapun, ali
tana makapunta karin uling malalam ne ing danum. Later in the afternoon, we won’t be able to cross
because of the deep water,” the barker enthusiastically said. As he started lifting the chair, I felt that
I was sliding down. The fabric of my pants was slippery “Sagull, Kala‐kalale. Wait, carefull Mananabu
ku! I’m falling,” I cried.
The barker haited for a second and adjusted me weight on his arms. I wiggle momentarily and
after a while, I instructed him to carry on. He looked at me and then smiled blissfully.
First, it was my body weight. Then I sensed that he was mocking me because he thought I
was a sissy. I turned back to the other barkers, and they were all carrying passengers, all of whom
were women. One was carrying an older woman with cane. I saw the men and they were braving the
river. Oh dear, now all these barkers would regard me as the only man in the Abacan river who did
not want to get his feet wet. Why hadn’t I decided early on to just cross the river?
Now, I felt guilty that I had to subject this cadaver‐looking barker to such pain and suffering
by carrying me, the queen all of my 160‐pound royalty for a measly 15pesos. I shook my head of all
this guilt away. Well, too bad, I thought I had the money which you hadn’t, sorry. Even in ancient
times, slaves laboriously carried their obese masters. History repeats itself; I tried to reason out in
my thoughts.
When we got to the middle of the river, I closed my eyes, not because I was afraid of the
water, but because I was worried that the barker wouldn’t be able to cross it, with me as his burden.
The water was already knee‐deep. He wasn’t even wearing any footwear. What if he slid done
because he stepped on a rock or a hole under the water?
But he was very much focused. His steps were showing but cautious. I wanted to talk to him
so that my mind would be distracted from worrying, but I felt that he needed full concentration to get
us through. I just held on the hand rest of the chair.
I imagined that poor people have always exhibited their resilience this way. When calamities
happen, they are the first ones to suffer the initial blows. Yet, they survive and eventually thrive. They
just need to go slow and sure. The rich and the middle class are alienated from this kind of survival
strategy. That is why much is lost in them when things go down. But not the poor; they are like fungi.
They don’t die. They morph after a catastrophe.
We got to the order end of the river. The barker found a coarse spot where he could put down
the chair. He was painting heavily, beads of sweat dripping from his temples. I thanked him and
handed a twenty peso bill. He looked grateful and smiled. I was waiting for him to utter an insulting
remark so I could give him the sermon of the day. But he didn’t.
“Dacal a salamat pu koya. Thank you. Pantunan mu naku potang bisa nakang mibalik keng
sumangid. Hatad daka. Just look for me when you want to cross the river going back. I’ll take you.”
He said as he nodded his head approvingly, once again showing his toothless mouth “Sige pu,
salamat mu rin,” I replied.
There was hardly any roving jeepney at all when I climbed up the gully. Tricycles were waiting
at the corner, but I chose not to ride in one. I decided to walk. The house was only about five minutes
away anyway.
As I was walking, I thought about what the future would hold for this city I loved.
Kapampangans are known to be a proud people. I only wished that they would get past all this soon.
I was hoping that I would also see my family complete and in the best of health. My steps got quicker.
I started to run.
At the threshold of the house, I saw Mother carrying a bundle of laundry. When she saw me,
she smiled and patted my arm.
I was puzzled to see her carrying a load. “Where are you going? I just got here. I was so
worried about you. Where is ate and her family, are they okay?” I asked. Mother placed the bundle
on the table and tightened it. “They’re all okay, thank God. I’m going to Dau to give this to your ate.”
“What, are you serious?” I was shocked by Mother’s retort. “The Abacan bridge has collapsed,
didn’t you know? How are you going to get to Dau?”
“I know that the Abacan bridge is no more,” Mother said pensively. “I’ve been to Dau and back
twice already. There are still barkers that lift chairs down there in the river, aren’t there?” she looked
at me.
I was aghast to hear this from her. “You mean you want to go down the river? You are not
afraid?”
“Why should I be afraid?” Mother interrupted. “Only the old ones are afraid to cross the river.
I am not that old. Besides, you’re here to keep me company, right? I’ll cook your favourite ginataang
kamansi.”
I was dumbfounded. Mother was unbelievable.
“Hurry up! The river gets deeper in the afternoon, ”Mother shouted “Let’s go.”
ESSAY:
HOME OF THE ASHFALL
John Jack Wigley - Pampanga
The eruption of Mount Pinatubo was recorded as the second largest terrestrial eruption of the
20th century, and the largest eruption populated area. Ash fall, which formed a weighty, rain‐
drenched snow‐like film, affected almost the entire island of Luzon, and even reached the
neighboring countries of Malaysia and Vietnam. It was further aggravated because of Thypoon
Yunya, which brought with it heavy rains and strong winds. To the Kampampagans and to the people
affected by this tradegy, it would serve as a testament to their irrepressible attribute of rising about
their plight and predicament. I was no longer living in Angeles City when Mt. Pinatubo erupted on
June 15, 1991. I was promoted from being a crew member at Pizza Hut.
Dau to management trainee at Pizza Hut Harrison Plaza in December 1990. After being a
service crew member for more than four years and graduating from college in 1989, I had to say
goodbye to my home time where I lived for more than two decades. It was my first time to work in
manila. I asked the assistance of Ed Calupitan, a fellow Pizza Hut Dau crew member now based in
Manila, to help me find a place to stay. He was living in a two‐bedroom apartment and gladly offered
the other room to me. Weeks before the eruption, I read several news and warnings about Mt.
Piantubo. Frankly, I never knew that there was a volcano in the Zambales mountain range. Nobody
among my Kapampangan friends did. I guess we were all clueless about the impending danger this
would cause in our lives. Later on Later on, I realized that the summit of the volcano was justly
fourteen kilometers away from the extent of Clark Air Base. I thought that volcanoes were
conspicuous mountains and had fierce‐looking summits like Maycn’s and Haicon’s. But this one was
deeply hidden among the several mountains called the Cabusilan mountains” of Zambales. How a
volcano had managed to hide among the mountains and be covered with a defense forest was
something I couldn’t comprehend. If it was bound the erupt, I guess it would be just like a firecracker.
Hell, I thought that if there was a mountain near us which I imagined would erupt anytime, it would
be the Arayat, which was located at the heart of Pampanga, with its open mouth and forbidding
counterance. Not this obscure mountain whose native inhabitants, the Aetas, never even knew
about, I paid no more attention to warnings. I had only been in Manila for barely six months and was
enjoying my new‐found independence. I would sometimes go to Angeles City to see Mother during
days off, which usually fell on a weekday, since management people did not have the luxury of the
day‐off during weekends because it was the time when more people would go out and eat. Pizza
Hut Harizon Plaza wasa high volume unit.
That fateful day, after my opening shift, I went to see a film. It was “Hihintayin Kita sa Langit”,
a film adaction of Bronte’s “Wuthering Heights” directed by Carlitos Siguion Reyna. The film starred
erstwhile loovers played by Richard Gomez and Dawn Zulueta. I was feeling all mushy and
melodramatic after watching the film when, once outside, I saw parked cars covered with what
seemed like a whitisn‐gray banket. And so were the streets. Is it finally showing in Manila?
I thought, as I felt some of the particles in my hand and smudge my shirt. When I looked
closely and touched them, they were grainy. I t was like ash from an ashtray. Sa kabila ng aking
paghingal dahil sa pagod at takot , sabi ko: “Nanang ,ay nabangga! Parang si... Parang si...” Hindi
na nag‐urirat pa si Nanang kung sino ang nabangga. Tumakbong pumnta siya sa kalsada at
nakalimutan pang magsuot ng ng tsinelas o kahit man lang sana pinuyod ang medyo mahabang
nagtitikwasang buhok.
Halos patakbo rin akong sumunod kay Nanang kahit sobrang kaba ko na. Ang gagong si
Kalbo na lang sana! Sumpa ko sa loob‐loob ko na ang nasa isip ko, ang CAFGU na nambugbog at
muntik bumaril kay Angkel Mulong na kapatid din ni Nanang at sinundan ni Angkel Ceferinc. Mabait
kasi si Angkel Mulong dahil kung manghuhuli siya ng isda sa Calacungan, nag‐iiwan siya ng gustong
gusto kong sugpo na sinlaki ng hinlalaki ng paa—at samaral na sinlaki ng palad ni Tatang.
Pero nagulat akopagkarating ni Nanang sa may umpukan, kaagad siyang umiyak ng pasigaw.
Inaawat nila dahil sobra ang kanyang pagwawala. Wala akong ibang naintindihan sa mga isinisigaw
niya kundiang magkakasunod na “Diyos ko po! Diyos ko po!” Nanghilakbot ako. Nagtayuan ang mga
balahibo ko. Siguradong hindi si Boying ang nabangga‐‐‐ higanon ang magging asta ni Nanang kung
ang kaibigan ko dahil malayong pamangkin na siya ng nanay ko.
E sino? Si Tatang kaya? Pero alam kong hindi, dahil sa mga ganoong oras na malambot pa
ang sikat ng araw, katatapos lamang dalhin sa ilog ang kalabaw niya; at hindi dadaan sa national
highway dahil naibenta niya ang kaisa‐isang bisikleta niya at ipinambayad sa klinika at sa mga gamot
ni Nanang na nakaapak ng bubog noong hinahabol nya ang inahin na kinatay namin noong
kaarawan ni Tatangna ginawa nilang araw ng pag‐aalala sa mga kaluluwa ng mga namatay naming
mahal sa buhay.
Hindi rin naman ang mga kapatid ko dahil nasa silangan ang elementaryang pinapasukan nila
sa Grade Six at Grade One. Nagtaka ko kung sino dahilganoon na lamang magwala si Nanang. At
para akong nakasagi ng espiritu dahil napakaliwanag sa aking pandinig ang tila nagmula sa ilalim
ng lupang pangahoy ni Nanang: “Kapatid ko! Ato! Kapatid ko! Ato!” Kahit noong nailibing na si Angkel
Ato, madalas akong nahihintakutan kung maaalala ko ang malagim na pag iyak ni Nanang. Mag‐
aalas dos nang magparada ang karo ng punenarya sa rough road ng barangay sa harapan ng lote
ng mag‐anak nina Nanangna nasa gitna sa pook ng mga Palor. Sotelo nag apelyido ng ama nina
Nanang na magmula sa Sto. Domingo, Ilocos Sur, at nakapag asawang galing sa angkan ng mga
Palor ng Villa.
Halo‐halong mga iyak ang naghatid sa makislap na puting kabaong ni Angkel Ato sa sala ng
bahay nila. Subalit mas lumutang na naman ang pagiyak ni Nanang at inawat pa ni Tatang dahil
hinihila na ng bakuran nina Angkel Ato, sa ililim ng matandang mangga. Agad ding pinatabi muna ni
Angkel Mulong ang mga nakapalibot sa tatlong mesa na naglalaro ng tong‐its at pusoy dos. Nauna
pa nga sila kaysa sa bangkay (Hanggang ngayon pugad ng mga mahihilig maglaro ng baraha ang
baryo namin.) “Saka na ‘yan atupagin pag naiayos na!” medyo mabigat ang tenor ng boses ni Angkel
Mulong nang di kaagad tumabi ang mga kalalakihang nagsusugal na di ko alam kung taga saan.
Di ko noon maintindihan na pagkatapos maiakyat ang kabaong, at pagkatapos makipag‐usap
ang mga taga‐punenarya kay Nanang, kaagad din nilang binuksan ang kabaong, tinakpan ng putting
kumot saka hinango ang bangkay. I saw farther down the riverbank that people were lining up to
cross the river by stepping on coconut trunks and wooden poles attached from one end to the other.
The gaunt shirtless bot who was juggling coins and walking to and fro shouted.
“Pesus mu. Deng bisang lumakad papunta Angeles, keni na kayo bang ali la mabasa deng
bitis yu. For one peso, take this trail and your feet wo’t get wet in the river”. I was about to fall in line
but i realized that there as a long queue of people already as far as the bend, waiting for their turn to
get actions the river. It would take me forever to get to other side if I fall in line, I thought. I talked to
the person behind me. “Malalam ya pu ing daanum. Is the water deep?” “Tabalu. Bala mu, malalam
pin. I don’t know. It’s deep. I guess,” the immediately rejoined. “Lawen me itang tau angga ne keng
atyan na. Look at the guy crossing. The water’s up to his tummy,” he said, pointing to the man. It
was deep, I contempalted. I didn’t want to take the risk of getting my clothes wet. I was also thinking
that perhaps the water that flowed down the river was contaminated because of the volcanic ash and
the sulfuric content of the water.
Just the i saw about four barkers holding wooden chairs, inviting people to cross the river on
these chairs. They explained that people would be sitting on the chair and the barkers themselves
would carry the chair to the other side for a fee of ten pesos. Despite the horrible sight before me, I
forced a smile I was thinking about how indestructible humans are. These people were still struggling
to live even if catastrophes like typhoons and volcanic eruptions had truck. Catastrophes constantly
plagued their lives. I felt deep admiration for them. One barker thought my smile was an indication
that I wanted to ride in the chair. “Bisa kang sake. Would you like to take a ride?” he asked. I was
meaning to say no but I was speechless, still talking everything in. Besides, I wanted to see my
family. I nodded my head. “Koya, padagdag naku mu keka ne. Kasi lupa kang mabayat. I’ll charge
you extra. You look heavy” the barker smiled fully; revealing he had no teeth. For a moment, i wanted
to pull his hair and drown his head in the river. This impertinent one. I thought. He had to subtly insult
my chubby body. But I surmised that he meant well. It was not going to be easy carrying me to the
other side of the river. I just simply agreed. I sat on the chair ad put the bag on my lap. The barker
clasped an improvised rope seatbelt from one and tp the other. Yeah, like I would experience a
terrible accident by forgetting to use this seatbelt, I thought sarcastically. Just hold the chair’s
handles, sir it’s good that you came this early. Potang gatganapun, ali tana makapunta karin uling
malalam ne ing danum. Later in the afternoon, we won’t be able to cross because of the deep water,”
the barker enthusiastically said. As he started lifting the chair, I felt that I was sliding down. The fabric
of my pants was slippery “Sagull, Kala‐kalale. Wait, carefull Mananabu ku! I’m falling,” I cried.
The barker halted for a second and adjusted me weight on his arms. I wiggle momentarily and
after a while, I instructed him to carry on. He looked at me and then smiled bliss gully. First, it was
my body weight. Then I sensed that he was mocking me because he thought it was a sissy. I turned
back to the other barkers, and they were all carrying passengers, all of whom were women. One was
carrying an older woman with cane. I saw the men and they were braving the river.
Oh dear, now all these barkers would regard me as the only man in the Abacan river who did
not want to get his feet wet. Why hadn’t I decided early on to just cross the river? Now, I felt guilty
that I had to subject this cadaver‐looking barker to such pain and suffering by carrying me, the queen
all of my 160‐ pound royalty for a measly 15pesos. I shock my head of all this guilt away. Well, too
bad, I thought I had the money which you hadn’t, Sorry. Even in ancient times, slaves laboriously
carried their obese masters. History repeats itself, I tried to reason out in my thoughts. When we got
to the middle of the river, I closed my eyes, not because I was afraid of the water, but because I was
worried that the barker wouldn’t be able to cross it, with me as his burden.
The water was already knee‐deep. He wasn’t even wearing any footwear. What if he slid
down because he stepped on a rock or a hole under the water? But he was very much focused. His
steps were show but cautious. I wanted to talk to him so that my mind would be distracted from
worrying, but it felt that he needed full concentration to get us through. I just held on the hand rest of
the chair. I imagined that poor people have always exhibited their resilience this way. When
calamities happen, they are the first ones to suffer the initial blows. Yet, they survive and eventually
thrive. They just need to go slow and sure. The rich and the middle class are alienated from this kind
of survival strategy. That is why much is lost in them when things go down. But not the poor; they
are like fungi. They don’t die. They morph after a catastrophe. We got to the order end of the river.
The barker found a coarse spot where he could put down the chair. He was painting heavily, beads
of sweat dripping from his temples. I thanked him and handed a twenty-peso bill. He looked grateful
and smiled. I was waiting for him to utter an insulting remark so I could give him the sermon of the
day. But he didn’t. “Dacal a salamat pu koya. Thank you. Pantunan mu naku potang bisa nakang
mibalik keng sumangid. Hatad daka. Just look for me when you want to cross the river going back.
I’ll take you.” He said as he nooded his head approvingly, once again showing his toothless mouth
“Sige pu, salamat mu rin,” I replied.
There was hardly any roving jeepney at all when I climbed up the gully. Tricycles were waiting
at the corner, but I chose not to ride in one. I decided to walk. The house was only about five minutes
away anyway. As I was walking, I thought about what the future would hold for this city I loved.
Kapampangans are known to be a proud people. I only wished that they would get past all this soon.
I was hoping that I would also see my family complete and in the best of health. My steps got quicker.
I started to run. At the threshold of the house, I saw Mother carrying a bundle of laundry. When she
saw me, she smiled and patted my arm. I was puzzled to see her carrying a load. “Where are you
going? I just got here. I was so worried about you. Where is ate and her family, are they okay?” I
asked. Mother placed the bundle on the table and tightened it. “They’re all okay, thank God. I’m going
to Dau to give this to your ate.” “What, are you serious?” I was shocked by Mother’s retort. “The
Abacan bridge has collapsed, didn’t you know? How are you going to get to Dau?” “I know that the
Abacan bridge is no more,” Mother said pensively. “I’ve been to Dau and back Twice already. There
are still barkers that lift chairs down ther in the river, aren’t there?” she looked at me. I was aghast to
hear this from her. “You mean you want to go down the river? You are not afraid?” “Why should I be
afraid?” Mother interrupted. “Only the old ones are afraid to cross the river. I am not that old. Besides,
you’re here to keep me company, right? I’ll cook your favorite ginataang kamansi.” I was
dumbfounded. Mother was unbelievable. “Hurry up! The river gets deeper in the afternoon, ”Mother
shouted “Let’s go.”
ESSAY:
FIVE BROTHERS, ONE MOTHER from ‘Many Mansions’
by Exie Abola (Manila)
The Marikina house wasn’t finished yet, but with an ultimatum hanging over our heads, we
had no choice but to move in. Just how unfinished the house became bruisingly clear on our first
night. There was no electricity yet, and the windows didn’t have screens. There were mosquitoes. I
couldn’t sleep the whole night. My sister slept on a cot out in the upstairs hall instead of her room
downstairs, maybe because it was cooler here. Every so often she would toss and turn, waving bugs
away with half-asleep hands. I sat beside her and fanned her. She had work the next day. In the
morning someone went out and bought boxes and boxes of Katol. Work on the house would
continue, but it remains unfinished eight years later. All the interiors, after a few years of intermittent
work, are done. But the exterior remains unpainted, still the same cement gray as the day we moved
in, though grimier now. Marikina’s factories aren’t too far away. The garden remains ungreened;
earth, stones, weeds, and leaves are where I suppose bermuda grass will be put down someday.
In my eyes the Marikina house is an attempt to return to the successful Green meadows plan,
but with more modest means at one’s disposal. The living room of the Cinco Hermanos house
features much of the same furniture, a similar look. The sofa and wing chairs seem at ease again.
My mother’s growing collection of angel figurines is the new twist. But there is less space in this
room, as in most of the rooms in the Marikina house, since it is a smaller house on a smaller lot. The
kitchen is carefully planned, as was the earlier one, the cooking and eating areas clearly demarcated.
There is again a formal dining room, and the new one seems to have been designed for the long
narra dining table, a lovely Designs Ligna item, perhaps the one most beautiful piece of furniture we
have, bought on the cheap from relatives leaving the country in a hurry when we still were on Heron
Street.
Upstairs are the boys’ rooms. The beds were the ones custom-made for the Green meadows
house, the same ones we’d slept in since then. It was a loft or an attic, my mother insisted, which is
why the stairs had such narrow steps. But this "attic," curiously enough, had two big bedrooms as
well as a wide hall. To those of us who actually inhabited these rooms, the curiosity was an
annoyance. There was no bathroom, so if you had to go to the toilet in the middle of the night you
had to go down the stairs and come back up again, by which time you were at least half awake.
Perhaps there was no difference between the two houses more basic, and more dramatic, than their
location. This part of Marikina is not quite the same as the swanky part of Ortigas we inhabited for
five years. Cinco Hermanos is split by a road, cutting it into two phases, that leads on one end to
Major Santos Dizon, which connects Marcos Highway with Katipunan Avenue. The other end of the
road stops at Olandes, a dense community of pedicabs, narrow streets, and poverty. The noise –
from the tricycles, the chattering on the street, the trucks hurtling down Marcos Highway in the
distance, the blaring of the loudspeaker at our street corner put there by eager-beaver baranggay
officials – dispels any illusions one might harbor of having returned to a state of bliss. The first floor
is designed to create a clear separation between the family and guest areas, so one can entertain
outsiders without disturbing the house’s inhabitants. This principle owes probably more to my mother
than my father.
After all, she is the entertainer, the host. The living room, patio, and dining room – the places
where guests might be entertained – must be clean and neat, things in their places. She keeps the
kitchen achingly well-organized, which is why there are lots of cabinets and a deep cupboard.
And she put them to good use. According to Titus, the fourth, who accompanied her recently
while grocery shopping, she buys groceries as if all of us still lived there. I don’t recall the cupboard
ever being empty.
That became her way of mothering. As we grew older and drifted farther and farther away
from her grasp, defining our own lives outside of the house, my mother must have felt that she was
losing us to friends, jobs, loves – forces beyond her control. Perhaps she figured that food, and a
clean place to stay, was what we still needed from her. So, over the last ten years or so she has
become more involved in her cooking, more attentive, better. She also became fussier about meals,
asking if you’ll be there for lunch or dinner so she knows how much to cook, reprimanding the one
who didn’t call to say he wasn’t coming home for dinner after all, or the person who brought guests
home without warning. There was more to it than just knowing how much rice to cook.
I know it gives her joy to have relatives over during the regular Christmas and New Year get-
togethers, which have been held in our house for the past half-decade or so. She brings out the
special dishes, cups and saucers, platters, glasses, bowls, coasters and doilies she herself
crocheted. Perhaps I understand better why her Christmas decor has grown more lavish each year.
After seeing off the last guests after the most recent gathering, she sighed, "Ang kalat ng
bahay!" I didn’t see her face, but I could hear her smiling. My father replied, "Masaya ka naman." It
wasn’t a secret.
Sundays we come over to the house, everyone who has moved out, and have lunch together.
Sunday lunches were always differently esteemed in our household. Now that some of us have left,
I sense that my siblings try harder than they ever did to be there. I know I do. I try not to deprive my
mother the chance to do what she does best.
ESSAY:
THE LOVE OF MAGDALENA JALANDONI
by Winon Lou G. Ynion (Iloilo)
A Privilege Speech delivered by HON. JO JAN PAUL J. PEÑOL during the Sangguniang
Bayan of Pavia Regular Session January 24, 2012
Mr. Presiding Officer, Honorable Members of this august chamber, fellow workers in the
government, beloved Pavianhons, a pleasant morning. Today I would want to share with you a fact
which everyone is not aware of. A fact which could make us prouder to be called Filipinos and even
prouder to be called Pavianhons. 36 novels, 122 short stories, 231 short lyrics, 8 narrative poems, 7
novelettes, 5 corridos, 7 long plays, a number of sculptures, hundreds of paintings – such were the
works of Magdalena Jalandoni – the first Republic Culture Heritage Awardee for Literature in 1969
by Former President Ferdinand Marcos. Magdalena is the daughter of Gregorio Jalandoni from then
City of Jaro and Francisca Gonzaga of Balabag, Pavia which was part of the old city of Jaro.
When she was 10, Magdalena wrote her first corridor “Padre Juan kag Beata Maria.” No one
could stop her love for writing and her advocacies towards an observant women sector. She studied
at Iloilo High School in 1906, but decided to stop the following year to dedicate her every piece of life
to her undying vocation which is writing literary pieces. In her late 20’s, Magdalena joined the
Women’s Suffrage Movement which aimed to be the voice of Filipino women and made her works
with heavy touches of dynamism and vigilance.
During her generation, women didn’t have a major role in the society. They were known more
as family persons and plain housewives.
In 1962, Pope John XXIII granted Magdalena the Pro Ecclesia Et Pontifice because of her
immeasurable commitment to the Roman Catholic Church. It is the highest medal bestowed by the
Papacy upon the laity or people who are not part of the clergy. Because of her dedication towards
her rare career, she received the first Republic Cultural Heritage Award for Literature by the President
Ferdinand E. Marcos on June 12, 1969, as stated earlier. Being a phenomenal writer, it isn’t unlikely
for her to dream of an ideal man of great brilliance – our national hero, Jose Rizal. Magdalena desired
an embodiment of Rizal.
She however died on September 14, 1978 a spinster – not being able to find a man to meet
the standards of the Filipino icon. For information, a street at the Cultural Center of the Philippines
complex in Pasay City, Philippines, is named in her honor.
Heritage Museum
On the other hand, due to rising industrialization and lack of time to take care of the heritage museum
at Jaro, the remaining family of Magdalena decided to sell the lot to pave way to the construction of
a commercial complex just last year. However, it was not a big deal because Magdalena’s works
were shared ton institutions memorable to her. To cite a few, she gave some to the libraries of these
schools: Colegio de San Jose, Central Philippine University, University of the Philippines-Diliman,
Ateneo de Manila University, the National Library, Yale University and Syracuse University in the
United States. But have you known that most of her works such as novels, poems, sculptures, and
paintings were donated to Balabag Elementary School?
Why Balabag Elementary School?
For the information of everybody concerned, a lot where Balabag Elementary School currently
stands were formerly owned by the family of Magdalena Jalandoni, but was donated to the municipal
government in the 1950’s. As you enter the school premises, you will be amazed by the concrete
sculptures found in front of the Principal’s Office and Jose Rizal’s bust sculpture on the left side of
the campus.
As you enter the school library, Magdalena’s works will greet you with awe and surprise.
These masterpieces were transferred just last year. Now, Magdalena Jalandoni’s family are asking
the support of the Municipal Government of Pavia to help them preserve the legacies that this woman
has set before us. In fact, right before your very eyes, members of this august body, I present to you
some works of Magdalena Jalandoni as early as 1917. I borrowed these artifacts from a close relative
of hers last Thursday. The family’s act of transferring Magdalena’s work to Pavia is a concrete
expression that Pavia has a place in the heart of the prolific writer. Let us help these works be
retained and be seen by our children and our children’s children and realize how brilliant is
Magdalena’s’ past and Pavia’s role in her life.
Truly, this makes us proud to be called Pavianhons.
MAGDALENA JALANDONI HOUSE AND WEST VISAYAS WRITERS
Posted by Mukilicious Thursday, June 12, 2008 at 4:40 AM
Visitors to Iloilo City should not miss the Magdalena Jalandoni house. Jalandoni (1891-1978)
is regarded as the “Grande Dame of Hiligaynon Literature,” and was the first to receive the Republic
Cultural Heritage Award for Literature in 1969. The University of San Agustin, in celebration of its
50th year, also recently published her book titled Labi sa Bulawan, a three-act play written in 1932
that was toured in the various schools in the province of Iloilo. Interestingly, she wrote her first corrido
when she was ten and her first novel Ang mga Tunok sang Isa ka Bulak when she was 16, an age
when most girls were just waiting to charm their princes.
The house, which looks like a castle, is heavily protected with barb wires. But one needs to
notify the keeper of the house, Jalandoni’s niece, days in advance, to get a visit clearance.
Jalandoni’s contemporaries include novelist Angel Magahum, poet Delfin Gumban, poet Serapion
Torre, poet-translator (from Spanish) Flavio Zaragoza Cano, essayist-journalist Rosendo Mejica,
zarzuela masters Jose Ma. Ingalla and Jose Ma. Nava, playwright Miguela Montelibano, essayists
Augurio Abeto and Abe Gonzales, the young novelist Ramon L. Musones, and the poet Santiago
Alv. Mulato. The triumvirate of Gumban, Torre and Zaragoza Cano also ruled it out for years in
poetry, their rivalry often magnified by the public balagtasan or poetic joust.
Thanks to EDSA Revolution of 1986, there is now an emergence of Kinaray-a writing along
with Aklanon writing, and multilingual writing in the West Visayas region. The prestigious Palanca
Awards has, in 1997, also included Hiligaynon short story, alongside that of Cebuano and Iluko,
among its categories. Important young writers in West Visayas today include (Hiligaynon) Alicia Tan-
Gonzales, Peter Solis Nery, Edgar Siscar, Resurreccion Hidalgo, Alfredo Siva, Alain Russ Dimzon;
(Kinaray-a) Ma. Milagros C. Geremia Lanchica, Alex C. de los Santos, John Iremil E. Teodoro, Jose
Edison C. Tondares, Maragtas S. V. Amante, Ma. Felicia Flores; (Aklanon) Melchor F. Cichon,
Alexander C. de Juan, and John E. Barrios.
Visitors can set out next to the nearby Biscocho Haus, located along Lopez-Jaena street. The
store offers kinihad, banana marble, angel toast, paborita, ugoy-ugoy, pulceras, pacencia. It is
interesting how specialty stores in the country become “hauses” as attested to by the store across
from it—Squid Hauz.
Visitors to the nearby Graciano Lopez-Jaena house could be in for a disappointment. There
is just the historical marker and a vacant lot behind the wall. One could not help but wonder how one
of the country’s hero, or for that matter, his descendants, could not have left any decent house. It is
ironic that across it stood the much-preserved building of The Convention of Philippine Baptist
Churches.
Learning Activity
1) Present a five minutes skit that will reenact one of the scenes in the essay. Look into the
aftermath of the Pinatubo eruption and what happened to the people who were affected
by the disaster.
2) After the five minutes skit: Explain how Filipinos deal with adversity. Discuss how you
would react if you were faced by a similar situation the author utilized Kapampangan
language in some of the dialogues in the essay. List down three possible reasons and
effects that this technique made.
3) In a grid, list down 5 parts of the essay that sounds humorous. Explain why that particular
part seems to be funny.
4) Cite incidents how the writer displayed qualities of honesty and openness in his essay
5) Submit your video.
Short Story
A short story or narrative is a connected series of events told through words (written or
spoken), imagery (still and moving), body language, performance, music, or any other form of
communication. You can tell a story about anything, and the events described can be real or
imaginary; covering both fiction and nonfiction; and leaving no topic, genre, or style untouched. There
are stories about all things and all times; past, present and future. Whenever you’re telling somebody
about a series of events, you are telling a story, no matter what the subject nor when they occurred.
As such, stories are of great value to human culture, and are some of the oldest, most important
parts of life.
Aside from being a part of every single type of literature, stories are at the foundation of
creativity and part of just about everything we do, particularly when it comes to entertainment,
recording, and reporting of any form. So, they are shared in all different ways—from oral and written
storytelling or journalism; to TV, film, and radio; to fine arts, stage performance and music; and so
on.
In one form or another, stories have been a part of human culture and society for thousands
of years—likely since man has existed! They’re found in the past and present of people from every
culture, religion, and ethnicity; in every region and language. So, all of that considered, the concept
of a story is actually a bit difficult to fully cover or describe. Some would say that life is made up of a
series of never-ending stories. From a simple commute to school or work, to all the events of our
lives, everything has a story.
II. Examples of Story. Here are a few examples of the same story told different ways.
1) You can sometimes tell a story in just one line:
• The girl met the love of her life and lived happily until the day she died.
Or, it could be more detailed:
• When the girl was 22, she met the love of her life. It was her last day of college, and
when she saw him, she knew he was the one she was going to be with forever—
and the boy knew the same. After graduation, the boy and the girl ran away together
to elope. They lived together happily for the rest of their days.
The second example is a tiny story. We can tell it in all kinds of ways and of all different lengths, from
one line to a series of novels. After all, if the couple lived an entire lifetime together, there would be
countless events that together make up the story of their life.
III. Types of Stories. The range of types of stories is pretty much endless. For that reason, this
article will divide stories into two very broad categories—fiction and nonfiction. Within each there are
a huge number of possibilities in terms of subject matter, genre, type of delivery (oral, written,
performance), narrative style, and so on.
Fiction stories. Fiction stories are based on made-up or imaginary events. There are dozens upon
dozens of types of fiction stories and genres, including but not at all limited to:
• Fairy tales • Dramas • Love stories
• Folklore • Adventure stories • Horror stories
• Mythology • Historical fiction • Ghost stories
• Legends • Fantasy • Bedtime stories
• Epics • Science-fiction • Non-fiction stories
Non-fiction stories can cover any kind of real-life event or experience. But, they often fall into these
kinds of categories:
• Historical events • Cultural history • Family
• News and current events • Crime and justice • Travel stories
• Biographies and autobiographies • Science • Survivor stories
• Memories and experiences • Love • War stories
IV. Importance of Story. Stories are, have been, and always will be an absolutely essential part of
human culture. Stories are how we learn about each other, our past, and our cultures. Whether they
are created for entertainment or to recount a real-life event—new stories are literally being lived, told,
and created every second of every day. So, even if there was only one story for every person who
ever lived, that would still be billions of stories in the world; it would be impossible to measure how
many have existed.
V. Examples of Story in Literature. As literature is, first and foremost, written storytelling, there
are limitless examples of stories in literature; across every style and genre of writing. We’ve been
writing down stories for thousands of years—truth be told, written stories have taught us most of
what we know about mankind’s history and culture! That said, here are a few examples:
Example 1: Author Shel Silverstein is known for the quirky and memorable stories he tells through
poetry. As you’ve just read, Silverstein tells a whole story in just eight short lines of poetry. Tons of
poems do the same in even fewer lines. Either way, you can see that a story definitely doesn’t have
to be lengthy. Here is “Masks” from his collection of poems Everything On It:
She had blue skin.
And so did he.
He kept it hid
And so did she.
They searched for blue
Their whole life through,
Then passed right by—
And never knew.
Example 2: A fairy tale is a classic type of story about imaginary events. When we want to tell a
fairy tale, we often start with the famous words “Once upon a time,” which adds a more whimsical
feel to what we are about to share. The fairy tale’s intro is just a small part of the story, telling us
about the beginning and a bit about the characters who will be the focus. Here’s an example from
Rapunzel of Grimm’s Fairy Tales:
Once upon a time there was a man and a woman who had long, but to no avail, wished for a child.
Finally the woman came to believe that the good Lord would fulfill her wish. Through the small rear
window of these people’s house they could see into a splendid garden that was filled with the most
beautiful flowers and herbs. The garden was surrounded by a high wall, and no one dared enter,
because it belonged to a sorceress who possessed great power and was feared by everyone.
Example 3: Reading a news story gives you an update on events that are happening throughout
the world. Here, Tech Crunch writes about China’s 11.11 Singles’ Day, the world’s biggest shopping
event. The story specifically reports on the money that Alibaba made in their latest Singles’ Day
event. Of course, newspapers and magazines are filled with stories. As you know, a news story
reports on real events that have happened. Here’s a passage from a CNN Tech article:
There’s no other shopping bonanza quite like Alibaba’s Singles Day, which has once again smashed
records. The tech giant reported $17.8 billion in sales during this year’s frenzy, breaking the record
of $14.3 billion set in 2015. That’s more than Black Friday and Cyber Monday combined.
VI. Examples of Story in Popular Culture. Stories are a part of every type of today’s media, from
TV, film, and radio; to what gets shared on social media platforms; music; stage performance; art
exhibitions, celebrity magazines—you name it, and you’ll find stories. But here are a few examples
of stories in popular film and TV culture, told through performance, music, and animation.
Example 1. Cult-classic fantasy film The Never ending Story is about a story that goes on as long
as time exists. It unfolds in real time as the reader is reading it, who in this case is a boy named
Bastian. But it’s soon revealed that he has more of a stake in the story than he ever imagined…
The Neverending Story (9/10) Movie CLIP - Call My Name (1984) HD. Bastian finally realizes that
he’s a part of the story he’s been reading, so in a way, it’s actually about him. So long as he keeps
reading, the story will continue.
Example 2. Everybody knows Will Smith’s retro anthem “Prince of Bel Air,” the theme song to the
hit ’90s sitcom Fresh Prince of Bel Air. In the show’s intro, Smith uses this rap to fill the audience in
on his backstory:
The fresh prince of Bel Air theme song

The song quickly reviews the story of his past, which serves as an intro to what the show is about.
He recounts the events that led to his life being turned “upside down”; the story of how he became
the Prince of Bel Air.
Example 3. In Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Hermione reads the story of the Three
Brothers, which is part of the wizarding world.
The Story of the Three Brothers is actually a story within a story—Harry Potter’s story. Rowling tries
to make the wizarding world seem as real as possible, and adding background is a big part of that.
By sharing stories that her characters read, she is giving evidence of the wizarding world’s storytelling
and literary culture…and perhaps even some history.
Stories are a major part of every aspect of our lives, from what we read to what we do to what we
talk and think about. They’re also crucial to our understanding of history and culture, and have been
recorded and passed on since man’s earliest days. Stories have always been and will always be at
the core of not only literature, but life!
SHORT STORY:
Voice Tape
Maikling-Kuwento ni ARIEL S. TABAG
NITONG pinakahuling bakasyon ko sa Santa Teresita sa Cagayan, mistulang bumata ako ng

labing-walong taon dahil parang bumalik ako sa taon na may nangyari kay Angkel Ato. Noong
hinahanap namin ni Nanang ang mga sertipiko ko bilang Best in Math sa elementarya at hayskul at
nang may maibigay ako sa prinsipal pinagtuturuan kong public school sa Cubao para sa
karagdagang puntos sa aking kakayahan at nang mapabilis din ang pag-akyat ng aking ranggo,
siyempre kasama na ng aking sahod, may nahanap kaming “ibang bagay”.
Sabi ni Nanang, inilagay niya ang mga sertipiko sa isang bag na manipis na palapad na may
markang “LA,” ang brand ng sigarilyo ni Tatang noong chain-smoker pa ito. Napuno na kasi ang
dingding ng maliit naming bahay sa mga sertipiko ng napanalunan ko sa mga paligsahan sa
pagsusulat. Itong bag na ito, na isa sa mga pinagpalitan ni Nanang sa mga daan-daang pinagbalatan
ni Tatang ng sigarilyo niya, ang binuksan namin. Subalit wala ang mga sertipiko.
Iyon pala, nakarolyo at nakasilid ito sa isa sa mga apat na piraso ng buho na pinaglagyan ni
Nanang ng aming birth certificate— tatlo kaming magkakapatidpero apat na tubo dahil inakalang
makakaapat sila ng tatay (dahil sa hirap ng buhay nila, si Tatang ang nakiusap sa kanya para magpa-
ligate na sa Aparri).
Pero nauna naming nakita itong bag sa kailaliman ng isang drawer ng aparador na dahil
nagkagasgas na sa kalumaan, inilagay na nila ni tatang sa nag-iisang kuwarto sa ibaba, doon malapit
sa kusina, kung saan inilalagay din ang iba pang gamit ni Tatang gaya ng sprayer, tatlong klase ng
itak, panabas, kuribot, ang mga bungkos ng iba’t ibang binhi gaya ng mais, ang inukit niyang
tikbalang mula sa puno ng santol (naniniwala akong nakuha niya ang kanyang pagiging artist sa
madalas niyang pagbabasa ng Bannawag), at oo, ang lagpas-tao ang taas na inipon niyang kopya
ng Bannawag na pinagpatong-patong sa almuhadera.
Iba’t iba ang laman nitong lumang aparador: mga lumang litrato na karamihan ay ang mga
pumanaw na mahal sa buhay nina Nanang, mga lumang damit, babasaging plato na ginagamit
lamang tuwing may bisitang mataas na uri ng tao gaya ng mga politikong bumibili ng boto, ang mga
papel namin ng aking mga kapatid noong nasa elementarya at hayskul na may markang “100%”…
Pero ano itong “ibang bagay” na ito?
Ang voice tape na may marking 4 my one & onli lab ATOna sabi ni Nanang ay nakuha niya
sa ilalim ng unan ni Angkel Ato na kapatid niyang sumunod sa kanya, kinahapunan noong araw na
nabangga ito, o pagkamatay niya sa umagang iyon ng Pebrero 16, 1992.
Nakabihis na akong papasok sa eskwela, katunayan, naroon na ako sa tabi ng kalsada dahil
kaharap lamang ng Pook Tactac, kung saan naroon din ang aming bahay, ang magdadalawampung
ektaryang bakuran ng St. Francis Academy na pinapasukan ko ng hayskul. Nasa second year na
ako kaya marahil, malakas ang aking loob kahit madalas akong ma-late. Gaya ng oras na iyon na
nagpasya akong magkubli sa Indian tree na sintangkad na ng mga matatanda sa tabi ng national
highway dahil magsisimula na ang flag ceremony.
Nang bigla na lang may lumagatak sa may kanluran. Parang may nagsuwagang mga torong
kalabaw, mas malakas nga lamang ito ng sampung beses. Pagkaraa’y nagsisigawan na ang mga
estudyante at iba pang mga tao— marahil ay pupunta ang mga ito sa palengke dahil Martes noon,
araw ng palengke sa bayan— nagmamadali silang pumunta sa harapan ng bakante at matubig na
lote kung saan kami nangunguha ng kangkong. Nag-umpukan sila doon sa likuran ng isang bus na
Manny Trans.
“Nakupo! Nabangga na!” Buong lakas na sigaw ng di ko maalala kung sinong matandang
babae, na ang duda ko’y si Ma’am Usita dahil katabi lang nila ang bakanteng lote at nakapagretiro
na rin kaya napapansin na niya ang lahat ng nangyayari sa paligid niya, nakita man o nababalitaan
lamang niya. Maliban sa lagi kong naaalala ang tinig niya dahil madalas niya akong pagalitan noong
titser ko pa sa Grade Three.
“Patay na! Patay na!”
Kinutuban ako. Nabaghan ako dahil noon lamang ako nakadama ng ganoong kutob—
kakaiba dahil di ko man lang ito naramdaman kahit madalas umiyak si Nanang noong nadukot ng
mga NPA si Angkel Ceferino, na kapatid din niya na sinundan ng bunso (bale pang-lima sa anim na
magkakapatid); o noong iniyakan ni Tatang ang kaisa-isang kalabaw niya na nalunod sa bagyo
noong 1989.
Nakupo! Si Boying yata na kaibigan ko! Taghoy ng aking loob dahil kapareho ko siyang
madalas ding ma-late sa flag ceremony at gustong-gusto ang mag-istambay sa kabilang gate ng
paaralan namin, sa bandang kanluran na halos katapat lang ng pinangyarihan ng aksidente. Baka
lamang, naisip ko, paglabas ni Sister Caridad na prinsipal namin sa kumbento nila, sa kagustuhang
di makita, baka kumaripas si Boying ng takbo at di niya namalayan ang pagdaan ng Manny Trans.
Nakupo!
Tumakbo ako pabalik sa bahay namin, hindi sa umpukan. Naratnan ko si nanang na
nagbubunot ng sahig.
Sa kabila ng aking paghingal dahil sa pagod at takot, sabi ko: “Nanang, may nabangga!
Parang si… parang si…”
Hindi na nag-urirat pa si nanang kung sino ang nabangga. Tumakbong pumunta siya sa
kalsada at nakalimutan pang magsuot ng tsinelas o kahit man lang sana pinuyod ang medyo
mahabang nagtitikwasang buhok.
Halos patakbo rin akong sumunod kay Nanang kahit sobrang kaba ko na. Ang gagong si
Kalbo na lang sana! Sumpa ko sa loob-loob ko na ang nasa isip ko, ang CAFGU na nambugbog at
muntik bumaril kay Angkel Mulong na
kapatid din ni Nanang at sinundan ni Angkel Ceferino. Mabait kasi si Angkel Mulong dahil
kung manghuhuli siya ng isda sa Calacungan, nag-iiwan siya ng gustong-gusto kong sugpo na
sinlaki ng hinlalaki ng paa— at laging may luno— at samaral na sinlaki ng palad ni Tatang.
Pero nagulat ako pagkarating ni Nanang sa may umpukan, kaagad siyang umiyak ng
pasigaw. Inaawat nila dahil sobra ang kanyang pagwawala. Wala akong ibang naintindihan sa mga
isinisigaw niya kundi ang magkakasunod na “Diyos ko po! Diyos ko po!”.
Nanghilakbot ako. Nagtayuan ang mga balahibo ko.
Siguradong hindi si Boying ang nabangga— hindi ganoon ang magiging asta ni Nanang kung
ang kaibigan ko dahil malayong pamangkin na siya ng nanay ko.
E, sino? Si Tatang kaya? Pero alam kong hindi, dahil sa mga ganoong oras na malambot pa
ang sikat ng araw, katatapos lamang dalhin sa ilog ang kalabaw niya; at hindi dadaan sa national
highway dahil naibenta niya ang kaisa-isang bisikleta niya at ipinambayad sa klinika at sa mga gamot
ni Nanang na nakaapak ng bubog noong hinabol niya ang inahin na kinatay namin noong kaarawan
ni Tatang na ginawa nilang araw ng pag-aalala sa mga kaluluwa ng mga namatay naming mahal sa
buhay.
Hindi rin naman ang mga kapatid ko dahil nasa silangan ang elementaryang pinapasukan nila
sa Grade Six at Grade One.
Nagtaka ako kung sino dahil ganoon na lamang magwala si Nanang. At para akong nakasagi
ng espiritu dahil napakaliwanag sa aking pandinig ang tila nagmula sa ilalim ng lupang panaghoy ni
Nanang: “Kapatid ko! Ato! Kapatid ko! Ato!”
Kahit noong nailibing na si Angkel Ato, madalas akong nahihintakutan kung maaalala ko ang
malagim na pag-iyak ni Nanang.
MAG-AALAS dos nang magparada ang karro ng punerarya sa rough road ng barangay sa
harapan ng lote ng mag-anak nina Nanang na nasa gitna ng pook ng mga Palor. Sotelo ang apelyido
ng ama nina Nanang na nagmula sa Sto. Domingo, Ilocos Sur at nakapag-asawa ng galing sa
angkan ng mga Palor ng Villa.
Halo-halong mga iyak ang naghatid sa makislap na puting kabaong ni Angkel Ato sa sala ng
bahay nila. Subalit mas lumutang na naman ang pag-iyak ni Nanang at inawat pa ni Tatang dahil
hinihila na ng nanay ko ang kabaong. Nag-alala nga ako na baka maapakan pa ni Nanang ang siga
sa harapan ng bakuran nina Angkel Ato, sa lilim ng matandang mangga.
Agad ding pinatabi muna ni Angkel Mulong ang mga nakapalibot sa tatlong mesa na naglalaro
ng tong-its at pusoy dos. Nauna pa nga sila kaysa sa bangkay. (Hanggang ngayon, pugad ng mga
mahihilig maglaro ng baraha ang baryo namin.)
“Saka na ’yan atupagin’pag naiayos na!” medyo mabigat ang tenor ng boses ni Angkel Mulong
nang di kaagad tumabi ang mga kalalakihang nagsusugal na di ko alam kung taga-saan.
Di ko noon maintindihan na pagkatapos maiakyat ang kabaong, at pagkatapos makipag-usap
ang mga taga-punerarya kay Nanang, kaagad din nilang binuksan ang kabaong; tinakpan ng puting
kumot, saka hinango ang bangkay.
“Di n’yo man lang tiningnan, apo!” pagmamaktol ni Tatang. ’Yong ‘apo’ niya, mas may tonong
panunumbat kaysa paggalang kagaya ng kung aksidenteng naapakan ko ang kanyang paa kung
nakahig sa sala, sasabihin niya “Paki-tingnan naman ang inaapakan n’yo, apo!”.
Mga ilang linggo pagkatapos ng libing, ipinaliwanag ni Nanang na nagkamali ang mga taga-
punerarya sa ginamit na kabaong— nagkakahalagang sampung libo ang puting makintab na una
nilang pinaglagyan kay tiyo.
Ano pa’t ipinahiga muna ang tiyo sa salas sa itaas ng bahay, sa inilatag na banig na buli at
nasapnan ng puting habing-Iloko na kumot na sabi ni Nanang, ’yong niregalo niya kina Tiyo noong
ikinasal sila ng asawa niya.
Dahil ang panganay nilang si Angkel Alfredo ay nagda-drive ng six by six na pang-logging sa
Aurora (hindi ko pa alam noon kung saang lupalop ng mundo ito), samantalang ang bunso nilang
babae ay nasa Ilokos na lugar ng kanyang napangasawa, at dinukot naman ng mga NPA ang
sinundan ng bunso na si Angkel Ceferino, at “no read no write” naman si Angkel Mulong, si nanang
na rin ang nag-abalang pumunta sa munisipyo para ihabla ang Manny Trans at nagtungo sa Aparri
para tumawag sa asawa ni Angkel Ato. Nag-arkila sila ng traysikel dahil siguradong wala na silang
masasakyan pag-uwi lalo’t mangilan-ngilan pa lang noon ang may dyip— Sarao ang tawag— sa Sta.
Teresita.
Naroon na rin ang mga kamag-anak ng asawa ng tiyo subalit ginawang dahilan ang mga apat
na sunod-sunod na mga pinsan ko na babantayan nila lalo na’t kung maisipan ng isa, sabay-sabay
silang mag-iyakan.
Dahil ako ang pinakamatanda sa aming magpipinsan, ako ang naatasang magbantay sa
bangkay ng tiyo sa salas— kasama ko ang apat na kandila at mga ilang insektong labas-masok na
nagliliparan sa bintana sa tabi ng kinauupuan ko.
Naalala ko ngayon kung paano tumigas ang mga panga at binti at hita ko sa panginginig.
Hindi ko naman matagalang ibaling ang aking paningin sa labas, sa mga nagsusugal, sa mga
parating at paalis na kamag-anak namin, sa siga, sa matandang mangga na malapit sa nagsisimula
nang mabulok na lumang bahay nina Nanang, sa paglubog ng araw. Natatakot kasi ako na baka di
ko mamalayan, nasa likuran ko na ang multo ng tiyo at hindi ko alam kung paano ako tatakbo sa
hagdanan sa may likuran ko.
Kaya’t napilitan akong palaging nakaharap sa nakumutang bangkay. Hindi ko matagalang
tingnan ang bandang ulo dahil naalala ko ang kuwento ni Lilong Martin noong tanghali ng araw na
iyon na siya ay magtutuli na diumano ay siya ang dumakot sa kumalat na utak ni Tiyo at saka inilagay
sa kaltik (ito ang tawag namin sa plastik na basyo ng langis ng Caltex) o tabo. At dahil nasabi kong
nagbalik na naman lahat sa aking alaala ang pangyayaring ito, di ko talaga maiwasang parang
bumabaligtad ang sikmura ko.
Patawarin ako ng Tiyo subalit mas tiningnan ko ang ibabang bahagi ng kanyang katawan.
Mas mataba ang nasa pagitan ng kanyang mga hita kaysa sa mga bubot na upo ng lola ko na nanay
ni Tatang na madalas kong hawakan saka ihahaplos sa di pa natutuli kong ari. Si Lilong Martin din
na manunuli na malayo nang kamag-anak nina Nanang ang nagsabi na kung gusto kong lumaki,
ganoon ang gagawin ko. Nagdududa ako minsan dahil tuwing gagawin ko ito, para akong
nagsasawsaw ng mga daliri sa benditahan saka ako nag-aantanda. Di ko siguro kasalanang ganoon
ang maalala ko dahil isa akong sakristan at wala akong ibang maalala tungkol dito. Para maliwanag,
habang lumalaki ang bubot na upo, gaya ng sabi ni Lilong Martin, sumusunod ding lumalaki ang
pinaghaplusan ko. At kung solb na ako sa laki ng upo, kukurutin ko ang tangkay nito at unti-unti itong
mamamatay. At titigil na rin ang paglaki ng aking ari.
Ngayon, ang paniniwalang ito ang sinisisi ko kung bakit katamtaman lamang ang aking ari.
Marahil sa kahahaplos ko sa mga bubot, kaagad itong nangamatay.
Kung bakit ang mga ito ang nasa isip ko noon, napansin ko na tumatahan ang panginginig ko
kung ganoong tumitikwas ang nasa pagitan ng mga hita ko.
Sa katunayan, naalala ko pa nga noon ang pagkakatuklas ko kina Angkel Ato at ng asawa
niya (mag-syota pa lang sila noon) habang nagsisiping sa ginagawa pa lang noon na bahay namin.
Nasa lima marahil ang edad ko at may ipinakuha noon si Nanang na martilyo yata iyon. Nakititira pa
lang kami noon sa family house nina Tatang.
Nakita ko silang hubo’t hubad sa ikalawang palapag ng ginagawang bahay. At ang posisyon
nila, gaya ng nasa pahina ng Playboy na pinagpasa-pasahang binuklat-buklat nina Angkel Mulong
at ng kanyang mga barkada, at noong nalasing na sila, napabayaan nilang mahulog sa ilalim ng
mesa. Ako namang nasanay na magbuklat ng Bannawag, tiningnan ko. Naku’t hanggang ngayon
ang larawang iyon ay kasing-liwanag ng alaala ko sa posisyon nina Tiyo.
Magdidilim na noong dumating sina Nanang. Dumiretso na naman siya sa salas at nagdu-
dung-aw.
Ganito ang maalala kong dung-aw niya: Ay, Ato, aya, kapatid kong ubod ng kabaitan
Bakit ka naman pumanaw na di man lang nagpaalam Sino ngayon ang titingin nitong apat
mong anak?
Habang ang asawa mo’y di naman makauuwi mulang Abu Dhabing pinagtatrabahuan
“Hindi makauuwi?” Naulinigan kong may nagsabi sa ibaba.
“Eh, di ba kaaalis lang?” May sumagot na sinundan ng bulungan saka ang hiyawan ng mga
nagsusugal sa labas.
Naiiyak na ako. Patalilis akong bumaba at hinanap ko si Angkel Mulong at nagpabili ako ng
sopdrink dahil nasusuka na naman ako.
DI gaya nina Angkel Alfredo at Angkel Mulong, hindi ako binibigyan ng pera ni Angkel Ato.
Kung mayroon mang pagkakataong binigyan ako, hindi ko maalala. Siya nga ang humingi sa akin
ng pabor.
Kung hindi ako nagkakamali, dalawang linggo lamang mula nang makaalis papuntang abrod
ang kanyang asawa, minsan, isang hapon habang nagre-review ako para sa ikalawang periodical
exam, sabi niya sa akin sa mababang boses: “Dante, gawa nga tayo ng sulat para sa anti mo.”
“Tayo,” sabi niya na ang ibig sabihin, ididikta niya ang isusulat ko. Siguradong napansin ni
Nanang ang paglapit sa akin ng kanyang kapatid dahil bigla siyang lumitaw sa may pintuan ng kusina
na may hawak pang sandok. Tinanguan ako at hindi natuloy ang pagsimangot ko lalo pa’t mga
English at Filipino na parehong kahinaan ko ang pagsusulit namin kinabukasan.
Napansin kong kagagaling lang sa bukid si Angkel Ato dahil bukod sa amoy-pawis at nakasuot
pa ng mahabang manggas, nakabitin pa sa baywang niya ang kanyang itak, halukipkip ang salakot
at dala sa likod ang kanyang kalupi.
“Sige ho,” dumaan sa ilong ang sagot ko.
Pipilas na sana ko sa notebook kong Aspen na may pabalat na Robin Padilla, pero pinigilan
ako. Kimi ang kanyang mga ngiting nagbaba ng kanyang kalupi saka inilabas ang nakasupot na
isang ream ng mabangong linen.
Wala na kasing kopya ng kanyang sulat na puwede ko sanang siyasatin ngayon. Kung ngayon
sana ginawa, maaaring naipasok ko sa kompyuter at nai-save ko. Ang nangyari, kung ano ang draft,
siya na ring ipinadala namin dahil bawat pangungusap o parirala na natatapos namin, ipinapabasa
sa akin. At ganito ang maalala kong nilalaman:
Dear Mahal,
Kumusta ka na diyan? Hindi ka ba nahilo noong sumakay ka ng bus, saka sa eroplano?Ano,
kumusta ang amo mo? Sira ulo ba? ’Wag siyang loloko-loko kung ayaw niya ng gulo.
Kumusta naman ang pagkain mo? Siya, kung di mo kaya ang hirap diyan, umuwi ka na’t
magkasama tayong magtitiyagang makaahon.
Alagaan mong mabuti ang sarili mo. ‘Wag mong alalahanin ang mga bata dahil ang tatlong
lalaki, kaya na nilang magsaing, magpastol at mag-ayos ng bahay. Panay ang hiling nina inang (ang
biyenan niyang babae) na doon muna sa kanila titira si Princess. Pero di ba’t napag-usapan na natin
’yan noon? Na ako ang magiging ama’t ina nila? Dahil si Princess nga naman ang pumapawi sa
pangungulila ko sa ’yo. Sa bawat araw na lumipas, lalo kitang nakikita sa kanyang mukha at kilos…
…’Wag mo munang alalahanin ang pagpapadala mo dahil sabi naman ng ate na banggitin ko lang
sa kanila kung may kailangan kami.
Itong mahal mo na laging nangungulila sa iyo, Ato P.S.
Si Dante ang pinagsulat ko para mas maliwanag mong mabasa.
Ako ang nagmungkahi sa “P.S.” dahil baka, ’kako, mayroon din akong pasalubong mula sa
asawa niya.
Kung hindi ako nagkakamali, may tatlong sulat kaming nagawa. Maiiksi. Kagaya din ng
kanyang pagsasalita— maiiksi. At matining ang boses niya. Hindi bagay sa katawan niyang parang
si Roland Dantes— magkamukha nga sila; wala nga lang bigote si Angkel Ato.
Gaya noong ipaalam niya kina nanang na ninakaw ang isa sa mag-asawa niyang kalabaw (di
pa nakapag-abrod ang asawa niya noon).
“Makapapatay ako!” mahina subalit mataas ang boses kaya’t kamuntikang pumiyok. Pero
wala na siyang sinabi pa.
Nagulat sina Tatang at Nanang. Mabuti at sumama si Angkel Mulong at siya ang
nagpaliwanag. Ninakaw nga raw ang kalabaw ni Angkel Ato na nakatali sa dulo ng kanyang bukirin.
Pagkatapos ng mahabang sandaling di siya nagsalita, tumikhim at saka sabi: “Pautangin n’yo
nga ako. Sasaglit lang ako sa Ilokos.”
Baka sakaling makalimot, sabi ni Nanang kay Tatang noong nag-uusap sila isang gabi na
marahil, pang-alo kay tatang dahil ipinautang ni Nanang ang ipapambili sana ni Tatang ng abuno.
Nagulat na lang kami nang dumiretso si Angkel Ato sa bahay namin pagdating mula Santo
Domingo, Ilocos Sur kung saan nakatira ang mga kamag-anak nila sa ama. Iniutos niyang isarado
ang mga bintana at pintuan samantalang alas tres pa lamang ng hapon. Hindi sumagot nang
tinanong ni Nanang kung bakit. Animo’y nagbubungkal ng ginto sa pananabik habang hinahango
ang mga bunga ng malunggay mula sa dala niyang sako. Saka may hinango siyang baril. Kaagad
kong napansin na baril ang hawak niyang mapusyaw na manilaw-nilaw dahil napanood ko na noon
sa betamax.
“Pambihira ka naman, Ato,” sabi ni Nanang. “Isipin mo naman ang mga anak mo.” Mangiyak-
ngiyak na si Nanang.
“Babayaran ko ng bigas kina pinsan,” sabi niya at isinukbit sa tagiliran ang baril saka walang
pasabing tinahak ang pilapil sa likuran ng bahay namin patungo sa pook nila sa may timog.
Mabuti naman at wala kaming nabalitaang hinamon niya gamit ang kanyang baril. Na paltik
pala. Mga ilang buwan kasi pagkatapos siyang ilibing, nalaman ni Angkel Mulong na di na pala
pumuputok ang lokong baril bukod sa mayroon nang kalawang.
Ibang kaso naman ang balita bago pa man ninakaw ang kalabaw ni Tiyo; na may nadisgrasya
siya. Kasapi ng CHDF ang naging biktima niya. Lasenggo at basta na lamang nananapak kung may
di nagustuhang gawi, o may nagustuhang sampalin.
Isa sa mga makailang ulit na sinapak nitong CHDF si Angkel Mulong na lumalaki na ring
lasenggo.
Minsan, nasobrahan nitong CHDF ang uminom, mag-isa itong umuwi sa kampo nila na nasa
timog na bahagi ng baryo. Nagkasalubong sila ni Angkel Ato sa medyo makipot na daan. Walang
nakaalam kung ano at paano ang nangyari. Basta na lamang kumalat ang balita na namatay sa taga
ang CHDF. Missing in action, sabi na lang daw ng mga kasamahang CHDF.
At ang pangyayaring ito, palihim na inamin ni Angkel Ato kay Angkel Mulong na nasabi rin
naman ng huli kina Nanang, ilang taon na ang nakararaan mula nang mamatay si Angkel Ato.
MAAGANG nag-asawa si Angkel Ato. Halos kasasapit pa lang niya sa edad na labing-walo
noong magpaalam kina Nanang.
“Mag-aasawa na ako,” sabi raw niya minsan, isang hapon.
“May mapagsisimulan na kayo?” tanong ni Nanang.

“Langgam nga, kaya pang mabuhay.”
Ang sabi ni Nanang, ayaw lang ni Angkel Ato ang maging taga-awat nina Angkel Alfredo at
Angkel Mulong dahil nagsisimula na noong lumaban si Angkel Mulong kay Angkel Alfredo na
panganay; o kaya, natuto na rin si Angkel Mulong na magsigarilyo at maglasing kagaya ng
panganay.
Nagtulong-tulong silang magkakapatid at ang mga kamag-anak namin para maisakatuparan
ang kasal nina Tiyo. Masasabi namang enggrande rin kahit papaano: may sound system na
tumugtog ng magdamag sa bisperas at maghapon sa mismong araw ng kasal, mayroon ding ilang
mga ninong at ninang kasama na ang kapitan ng barangay. Marami rin naman silang natanggap na
regalo. Marami ring naisabit sa kanilang papel de banko. Mayroon ding pulang telon na pinagsabitan
ng nagtutukaang kalapati na may markang “Renato & Magdalena”. Nahagisan din sila ng bigas at
barya nang papasok na sila sa family house nina Nanang pagkagaling sa simbahan.
Pagkaraan lamang ng ilang buwan na pagtira nila sa family house, ipinaalam na ni Angkel
Ato ang pagtatayo niya ng sariling bahay sa lote sa may bandang silangan.
“Di magtatagal, bubukod na kami,” ganyan ni Tiyo kina Nanang isang hapon.
“Siya’ng pinakamatino inyo,” pagbibiro ni Tatang kay Nanang kinagabihan.
Kinaumagahan, maaga kaming nagtungo ni Nanang doon sa pagtatayuan ng bahay. Kasama
na ng tatlo kong tiyuhin si Lilong Illo na karpintero. Nagbungkal sila ng paglalagyan ng pangunahing
haligi. Hinagisan ng barya ang hukay, pinatuluan ng hinyebra at dugo ng manok na puti ang mga
paa.
“Para maging maginhawa ang buhay nila,” sabi ni Nanang noong nagtanong ako. Ganoon din
daw ang ginawa nila noong ipinatayo ang bahay namin.
Umaga nang lumipat sina Angkel Ato sa bagong-tayong bahay nila. Parang mas malaki lang
ng kaunti sa bahay-kubo na litrato sa aklat ko sa Grade One. Nakaharap sa silangan ang mga
bintana para raw papasok ang grasya. Hindi rin magkatapat ang pintuan sa harap at pintuan na
papasok sa kusina.
“Magtatagal,” sabi ni tatang dahil kamagong, matandang bayugin, at piniling kugon ang
ginamit.
Unang ipinasok nina tiyo ang isang malaking tapayan ng bigas, isang banga ng tubig, tig-
isang palayok ng bagoong at asin, larawan ng Sagrada Pamilia na pinilas ni Nanang mula sa luma
naming kalendaryo. Ang isang palayok na barya ang ipinahawak sa akin. Nang maibaba ko, palihim
akong kumuha ng isang gintuing piso subalit agad kung ibinalik nang magkakasunod ang tikhim ni
Angkel Ato na nasa likuran ko lang pala.
Nag-alay sila sa salas. Saka nagpadasal sila kay Lilang Balling. Pagkatapos, kinain namin
ang suman na tira sa inialay na may kasama pang kape mula sa sinangag na bigas.
PERO ano naman ang maaasahan mo sa dalawang elementary graduate lang lalo na’t
papatapos na ang dekada otsenta na tumataas na rin ang mga kailangang papeles para makapasok
ng trabaho?
Isang kahig, isang tuka, gaya ng kasabihan. Dahil kutsero naman ang ama nina Nanang at
napakaliit naman ang lupang minana ng nanay nila— dahil nga babae lang— makitid lamang ang
lupang sinaka ng Tiyo.
Oo, at tumanggap siya ng mga sasakahing lupa na may “panginoon.” Pero kakaiba ang
kanyang asawa. Galing nga ito sa tahimik na nayon ngunit nakarating ang kaartehan sa lungsod.
Balita kong namasukan sa Maynila noong dalagita pa. Ang mahirap, hindi naman niya nagawang
maarte rin ang bahay nila.
At noon nauso sa baryo namin ang pagpunta sa Abu Dhabi dahil may mag-asawang di ko
sigurado kung sila ang mismong recruiter o may kaibigan silang recruiter sa Maynila.
Ang maalala ko, may kadalian ang pagpunta sa nabanggit na lugar. Sunod-sunod ang mga
umaalis na kababaryo namin kahit mga dalawang kalabaw o baka lamang ang naibebenta.
Nalaman ko na lamang na nagpapatulong ang Tiyo kay Nanang na maghanap ng
mapagsanlaan sa mumunti niyang sinasaka— pandagdag sa ibinenta na niyang babaeng kalabaw—
iyong asawa ng kalabaw na ninakaw. Mabuti at mayroon na siya noong isang magbibinatang
kalabaw na tinuturuan na niyang mag-araro.
At nakarating nga sa abrod ang asawa niya.
HANGGANG ngayon, na ipinagpapasalamat ko sa Diyos, hindi na ako nailapit pa sa iba pang
nakaburol gaya ng karanasan ko sa pagkamatay ni Angkel Ato.
Noong namatay ang lolo ko na tatay ni Tatang, ang lola ko ang nagbabad sa pagbabantay.
Noon namang namatay si Angkel Alfredo na panganay nina nanang, nataon namang nag-aaral na
ako sa National Teachers’ College at dumating na lamang ako noong araw na ng libing.
Mayroon akong mga di maipaliwanag na pangyayari sa burol ni Angkel Ato. Gaya ng
pagbabawal ng mga matatandang babae sa pagwawalis habang may nakaburol. Magkakaroon daw
ng maraming kuto ang sinumang susuway nito.
Pero karaniwan sa binatilyo, kung ano ang sinabing masama, parang napakasarap gawin.
Lihim na winalis ko ang kusina nina Tiyo dahil nandidiri ako sa mga tinik at mumog sa ilalim ng mesa
lalo na’t hindi sementado ang sahig nila.
Pagkaraan ng dalawang gabi, panay-panay na ang pagkakamot ko ng ulo. “’Wag kang
magkamot at masama,” sabi pa ni Nanang. Talaga namang nagdusa ako sa kati ng aking ulo.
Kinahapunan ng libing, sinuyuran ako ni Nanang. Ang daming kuto. “May baon sila,” gaya ng
kasabihan sa aming lugar. “Ang tigas ng ulo ng batang ’to,” paulit-ulit na sinabi ni Nanang.
At ang pagkamatay ng tiyo, iyon pa lang naman ang kaisa-isang pagkakataon na
nakaramdam ako ng sinasabi nilang multo. At napatunayan ko na kakaiba talaga ang paningin at
pang-amoy ng aso.
Noong kinuha ko ang mga damit namin sa bahay, sarado lahat ang mga bintana at pintuan
dahil napakahirap naman ang namatayan na nga, nanakawan pa.
Pero nakadagdag pa iyan sa pagkatakot ko. Saka, nasa loob ng bahay ang aso naming si
Samson na ipinangalan sa bida ng sikat na drama sa radyo. Mabuti at may maliit na butas sa kusina
namin kung saan siya dumadaan kung tatae o iihi.
Binuksan ko ang isang bintana at pintuan. Subalit nang inaayos ko na ang mga damit sa bag,
laking gulat ko nang biglang tumahol ang aso, na hindi naman nakaharap sa akin bagkus sa dako
kung saan umupo noon si Angkel Ato noong ginawa namin ang unang sulat niya.
At pinatunayan ni Nanang na tuwing anibersaryo ng kamatayan ni Angkel Ato, may naaamoy
siyang amoy-kandila, sa dako kung saan naroroon ang lumang aparador kung saan ko nakuha ang
sinabi kong palapad na bag.
Sinabi tuloy ni Nanang na dalhin ko na lang sa sementeryo ang voice tape. “Sige ho,” wala
sa loob ang sagot ko dahil may nabubuo sa isipan ko na magpapaliwanag sa akin ng buong
pangyayari.
TALAGANG hindi nakauwi ang asawa ni Angkel Ato. Dito unang umusbong ang asar ko sa
pag-aabrod. Napakahalaga naman ng perang ’yan at di man lang umuwi para makita sa huling
sandali ang kanyang asawa?
Siyempre, hindi ko naman naintindihan ang hirap ng kalagayan niya dahil nga ilang buwan pa
lamang siya sa Abu Dhabi.
Noong gabi bago ang libing, napagkasunduan na titira ang dalawa kong pinsan sa aming
bahay. At ang dalawa pa, doon naman sa mga biyenan ng tiyo.
Ang Angkel Mulong naman ang titira muna sa bahay nina Angkel Ato. Noong ilalabas na ang
kabaong, nauna ang paanan. Noong nahirapan ilang ilusot sa bintana dahil hindi naman kalakihan
ang bintana, may sumigaw na ayaw pa raw ng tiyo ang umalis.
“Talagang gustong hintayin,” naulinigan ko sa likuran ko.
“Pugutan na kasi ang manok!” may sumigaw.
Gagawin daw ito para wala nang susunod sa kanya na mamatay sa pamilya.
Sige nga po, Diyos ko, hiling ko sa loob-loob ko.
Pinugutan ang tandang na talisayin. Tumalsik ang dugo at napatakan ang kabaong at mga
damit ng ilang nagbuhat sa kabaong. Saka basta na lamang binitawan ang wala nang ulong manok
at kung saan-saang dako ito nagtungo at nangisay. Pero di pa rin mailusot ang kabaong. Kahit sa
pintuan, masikip.
Walang laman ang kabaong noong ipinasok nila kaya malamang na pinatagilid nila.
Wala silang nagawa kundi pinutulan ang bintana. ’Yon ang unang kagat ng pagkasira sa
bahay ni Angkel Ato. Dahil noong tumira si Angkel Mulong, di naman niya inayos ang bintana. Saka
noong dumating ang asawa ni Angkel Ato, tumira silang mag-iina sa pamilya nito. Hanggang sa unti-
unti na lang nasira ang munting bahay ni Angkel Ato.
Pagkatapos maalayan ng misa ang bangkay ng Tiyo, nakita kong kinausap ng mga biyenan
ng Tiyo ang pari, si Fr. Ed. Kasapi ng samahan ng mga debotong babae o apostolada ang tiyahin
ng asawa ng tiyo at kahit isa akong sakristan, hindi ko ugali ang nakikialam sa usapan ng ibang tao
lalo na’t matatanda sila. Pagkatapos nilang mag-usap, may pahabol na sermon si Fr. Ed na ganito
ang buod: “Ang hiling ko lamang sa mga may kinauukulan na mas mahirap sa mga bata kung
maghihiwa-hiwalay sila. Lalo na ngayon na ang kanilang tibay ay nakasalalay sa presensiya ng
bawat isa sa lahat ng oras.”
Sa madaling sabi, tumira ang mga pinsan ko sa mga biyenan ng tiyo. PAPATAPOS na noon
ang Marso at pakiwari ko, mga limang beses nang nagpabalik-balik si Nanang sa husgado na nag-
aayos ng habla laban sa kumpanya ng bus, nabanggit ng isa kong kabarkada ang umiikot na
alingasngas sa baryo namin.
“Kusang nagpabangga daw ang Tiyo mo, p’re,” sabi niya.
Hindi kaagad ako nakapagsalita. Hindi dahil nagulat ako. Iniisip ko kung sasagot ako o hindi.
Inalala ko ang hapong iyon bago nabangga ang Tiyo. Pumunta siya sa likuran ng bahay
namin. Umupo sa nakausling ugat ng kamatsile at nakatuon ang paningin sa malawak na bukirin na
nagsisimula nang matuyo ang mga damo. Maya’t maya na kinakausap ni Nanang pero hindi
sumasagot. Hinayaan na lang din ni Nanang nang lumaon.
Maya’t maya rin ay sinisilip ko sa awang ng dingding ng kusina namin. Akala mo ay estatwa
ang tiyo na di man lang gumagalaw. Papalubog na ang araw at nasisilaw pa rin ako sa mga sinag
na tumatagos sa mga sanga ng kamatsile, at sa kabuuan ng tiyo at di ko na nga maalala ang hitsura
niya dahil di ko naman maaninag ang ulo niya.
Tahimik ang paligid dahil napakain na noon ni Nanang ang mga baboy. Kahit kaming mga
magkakapatid na nasa kusina lang, napakaingat ng mga kilos namin. Minsang nagtawanan kami
nang walang tunog o sabihin na nating tawa ng pipi, binigyan kami ng tig-isang malutong na kurot
sa singit. Marahil, inakala niyang ang tiyo ang pinagtatawanan namin. Na hindi naman. Hindi ko nga
lang maalala ngayon kung ano.
Nabasag ang katahimikan ng paligid nang biglang may humuning sulsulbot sa kapok sa
kanluran namin.
“Putang ina mo!” hiyaw ni Nanang. “Madilim na nga, eh!”Inakala yata ng tiyo na siya ang
minura ni Nanang at bigla na siyang tumayo saka walang pasabi na nagtungong timog.
“Anong masasabi mo, p’re?” nagsalita na naman ang kaibigan ko.
Hindi ako sumagot.

Nagpatuloy sa pagkukuwento. “Maaga daw na nakaupo sa waiting shed ang tiyuhin mo. Sabi
ng mga nagtitinda ng pandesal. Nakita naman daw ng mga estudyante ang pagtalon niya sa harapan
ng bus.”
Mga ilang buwan pagkatapos mailibing ang Tiyo, tumayo ako sa lugar kung saan siya
nabangga. Nakita ko ang lumalabo nang mantsa ng dugo sa puting sementadong kalsada. Habang
binibilang ko ang hakbang ko— limampu— hanggang sa kinublian kong Indian tree habang may flag
ceremony, iniisip ko na ang madalas na pakay ni Angkel Ato kung napapagawi ng hilaga ng baryo
namin, pupunta sa bahay namin. At dumadaan sa mga pilapil ng bukirin na pagitan lamang ng aming
pook at ng kanilang pook. At bakit siya tatawid sa hilaga kung saan naroon ang eskuwela namin
gayong nasa timog ng kalsada ang makipot na daan papunta sa bahay namin?
Binanggit ko kay Nanang ang sinabi ng kaibigan ko.
“Wala na yatang alam na matinong gawain ang mga tao,” sabi ni Nanang na mangiyak-ngiyak,
“kundi ang magpakalat ng di wastong salita.”
Parang may idinaang napakalamig na dulo ng kutsilyo sa aking gulugod. “Ba’t ka paapekto
kung di totoo?” kumuha si Tatang ng isang basong tubig para kay Nanang. “Lalo kang pipikunin kung
sasagot ka.”
Hindi ko na hinintay ang sagot ni Nanang. Pumunta ako sa likuran ng bahay. Humarap ako
sa dako ng bahay nina Tiyo. Patawarin mo ako, Angkel, sinabi ko habang palihim akong umiyak.
DUMATING ang asawa ng tiyo noong patapos ang Marso ng sumunod na taon, mga ilang
linggo pagkatapos makuha nina nanang ang biyente mil na pinang-areglo kay tiyo.
Nagkataon na nasa simbahan ako nang umagang iyon dahil nagsilbi akong sakristan ng misa.
Di pa noon gaanong nagsisimba ang nanay ko at nagkasundo sila ng hipag niya na pumunta sa
Aparri.
Bahagya akong nagising nang may narinig akong alingasngas ng bagong dating. Nakahiga
ako sa mahabang sopa sa sala ng aming bahay, subalit di ko mapigilan ang paghila sa akin ng antok.
Mahapdi ang mga mata ko subalit tumambad sa paningin ko ang nakaupong asawa ng Tiyo
sa katapat kong sopa. Nakasuot ng dilaw na bestida, at napakaputi.
Kaagad kong naisip na magpatuli sa darating na Mayo. Dumilat-dilat ako.
Saka ako bahagyang dumilat.
“Hayan, gising na ang ating binata,” sabi niya at agad na tumayo. Lumapit siya at hinalikan
ang pisngi ko. Kakaiba pala ang pabango ng mga Arabo, nasabi ko sa sarili ko.
Nahimasmasan ako. Lalo na nang makita ko sa aking paanan ang bagong aparador na
mapusyaw na pula ang kulay.
“Binili namin sa Aparri,” sabi niya. “Dito lang muna dahil bagay sa bahay niyo.” Tumawa.
Ngumiti lang ako. Dahil lumalakas ang tibok ng dibdib ko. Pagkaraa’y lumabas si Nanang
mula sa kusina na may dalang nakabasong sopdrink. “Nasa’n ang mga kapatid mo?”
“Iihi lang po ako,” sabi ko sa halip at dali-dali akong nagtungo sa kasilyas sa palikuran.
BAGO ako bumalik sa Maynila nitong nabanggit ko na huli kong bakasyon, sa halip na
pumunta ako sa sementeryo para tuparin ang utos ni Nanang na isusunod ko na sa puntod ng Tiyo
ang cassette tape, nagpunta ako sa lote ng namayapang si Angkel Ato na parang binisita ko lang si
Angkel Mulong na nag-asawa na rin at nagpatayo na ng maliit na bahay sa dating kinatatayuan ng
kanilang family house.
Tumayo ako sa lugar kung saan tantiya ko na katapat ng kinaupuan ko noong binantayan ko
si Angkel Ato. Nakatuon ang paningin ko sa tantiya ko namang katapat ng bangkay niya na nabalot
ng puting habing-Iloko. Subalit ang naroon ay kamada ng mga sanga at kahoy na nasalba sa
nakaraang bagyo na pinagkukuhaan ni Angkel Mulong ng panggatong niya.
Subalit kinilabutan ako. Nanindig ang mga balahibo ko. Pero di ko inisip na naroon ang espiritu
ng tiyo. Marahil, gawa lang ng magkakahalong damdamin, lalo na ng aking pagkalumbay.
Noong iabot ni Nanang ang cassette tape sa akin, naalala niya ang dinatnan namin sa bahay
ng tiyo na nag-iiyakan ang mga pinsan ko sa bakuran nila. Napakagulo ng sala. At di pa nailigpit ang
hinigaan.
Kaya’t umiiyak si nanang na nagligpit habang inaliw ko ang mga pinsan ko. Nagpunta kami
sa tindahan sa tabi ng kalsada at ibinili ko sila ng kendi na walang saplot at zoom zoom.
Sabi ni Nanang na nakita niya ang cassette tape sa ilalim ng unan ng
Tiyo— halatang ang tatlong nagpatong-patong na unan ang hinigaan niya.
Nasa kusina naman ang radio cassette na hiniram niya sa amin.
Pinakinggan daw nina Nanang at Tatang ang laman ng cassette tape. Na ang laman, matagal
na silang apat lamang ang nakaaalam: sila ni Tatang, ang yumaong si Tiyo, siyempre, at ang
kanyang asawa.
Hanggang nitong kamakailan, ako na ang panlima. Dahil sabi ni Nanang, may sapat na akong
pag-iisip.
Mabuti at may lalagyan itong cassette tape. At maliwanag ang boses ng asawa ng Tiyo sa
kabila ng kanyang mga hikbi: “Patawarin mo ako, Mahal. Di ko ginusto. Papatayin ako kapag
lumaban ako. Isipin mo na lang na makakamtan na rin natin ang hinahangad mong magandang
kinabukasan para sa mga anak natin... Matatapos din ang kontrata ko…”#
TALASALITAAN:
• ápo. (1) tawag paggalang na katumbas sa Bathala lalo na kung ikinakabit bago ang ngalan
ng tao o bagay. (2) katumbas ng “po” at “opo”.
• kalupí. bag na yari sa nilalang na yantok.
• kuríbot. malaking basket na yaring kawayan na may kabitan para sa balikat (lalapat sa likud)
ng magdadala nito.
• dúng-aw. patula o paawit na paglalahad ng pagtangis.
• nánang. nanay. Baryasyon: inang, nana, ina.
• tátang. tatay. Baryasyon: tata, ama,
Learning Activity
1) Write the meaning of plot, exposition, complication, rising action, climax and denoument.
2) Make a character sketch of the following:
a. Dante
b. Angkel Ato
c. Nanang
d. Angkel Ato’s Wife
3) Identify the prediction that they made in the story that eventually did not happen.
4) Write the instances when the author built up tension in the story.
5) Come up with virtual presentation, a blog or a voice recording to answer the question:
6) Can we say that the story ‘Voice Tape’ is a realistic story?” What details would you give to
support your answer? Does the story have to be realistic for it to be able to present a
believable human experience?
7)
8) Post a blog or on their FB wall an answer to:
a. What defines home to you?
b. If you need to leave where you were staying now, what would you do to make yourself
at home?
c. How do you see your home thirty years from now?
d. The story of Magdalena Jalandoni points us to a particular conservative time when men
and women were expected to perform certain roles. How has society changed since
then? In what ways are women more free than before, and in what ways do they still
face limitations?
e. Respond critically to the essay and articulate this response througha presentation of a
short biography of a local woman writer fromyour area or region.
f. How do writers use fiction and fictional techniques to respond to contexts that surround
them?
9) Gather pictures of their OFW family members or relatives. Create a montage and present it in
class using video conferencing.
10) Answer the following questions:
a. Are the economic benefits of having an OFW family member worth the hardship of
being separated from them for extended periods of time?
b. If you grew up in a household with an OFW family member, who was the chosen
relative who shaped your childhood years?
c. What important values did you learn from the relative who raise you?
d. What aspect of your life reflects his or her influence?
11) Write an essay about the life of a Filipino OFW, and answer the following questions:
12) Give the main idea of the essay, “Voice Tape”
13) Give 5 incidents in the essay and identify the tone that the speaker has in narrating each
incident.
14) Explain the style of the writer by describing how the writer used words and sentences to deliver
his message and commenting on the use of anecdotes in the essay.
15) Explain the significance and choice of the author to have an introduction that began with
startling statistics followed by a brief description of the Mt. Pinatubo eruption.
16) Think – pair – share on the description of the kind of house that you have.
17) Share about four things that you love about your home.
18) What does the advent of social media like facebook and tweeter mean to our concept of being
‘at home’?
19) OFW’s are often separated from family members geographically, how can this affect how we
view ‘home’?
20) How does Abola’s essay dramatize the saying “home is where the heart is”
21) How did the essay go beyond the biographical details of the Hiligaynon writer?
22) Plot the development of the character or Jalandoni between the period of her birth and her
death.
23) What do you think inspired Jalandoni to become a writer? Point out specific details in the
essay that will support your answer.
24) Imagine you are a cultural worker trying to educate people about the importance and
contributions of women in Philippine society. List down three relevant programs that you would
introduce and why.
Folktales
Folktales are stories that grew out of the lives and imaginations of the people, or folk. They have
always been children’s favorite type of folk literature.
Their popularity springs from their imaginative characters, their supernatural elements, their focus
on action, their simple sense of justice, their happy endings, and the fundamental wisdom they
contain.
Many people use the terms folktale and fairy tale interchangeable, though few of these tales actually
contain fairies. Fairy tales are unreal but they are not untrue; they reflect essential developments and
conditions of man’s existence. Important folktale collections:
• 1697. Charles Perrault’s “Tales of Mother Goose” collected and published in France: first
written version of folktales.
• 1812. Wilhelm and Jakob Grimm’s “Nursery and Household Tales” collected and published
in Germany: helped to popularize folktales
• 1894. Joseph Jacobs’s “English Fairy Tales” collected and published in England: further
helped to popularize folk literature
• 1889-1910. Andrew Lang’s “Fairy Books” collected and published a series of fairy books
containing folktales from around the world
Below are the most prevalent kinds of folktales (note that some folktales have characteristics
of two or more folktale categories):
2) Animal tales are perhaps the oldest of all folktales. They are part myth, part fable, and
part fairy tales. They play significant roles in early stories and legends. Talking animals appear
in many European folktales. For example, “The Three Little Pigs” and “Little Red Riding Hood”.
3) Wonder tales are the best known of the traditional folktales. They are stories of
supernatural wonders typically depicting the conflict between good and evil. Most conclude
with the triumph of virtue and a happy marriage. In fairy tales, the supernatural wonder is
derived from either a magical person, a magical object or an enchantment.
Examples:
• Cinderella
• Snow White
• Seven Dwarfs
• Sleeping Beauty
• Jack and the Beanstalk
4) Cumulative tales are the ones in which successive additions are made to a repetitive plot
line. They are generally very simple in plot and brief, for with each addition, the entire
sequence is repeated.
Examples:
• The Gingerbread Man
• Goldilocks and the Three Bears”.
5) Pourquoi tales seeks to explain natural phenomena. They provide primitive explanations
for the many “why” questions early humans asked. They are found throughout the world and
especially popular in African and Native American folklore. There is a strong connection
between pourquoi tales and myths; however, the setting in pourquoi tales is earthly and deities
play no role in pourquoi tales as they do in myths.
Example:
• Why the Sun and the Moon Live in the Sky
• Where Stories Come From
• Why Mosquitoes Buzz in People’s Ears
6) Noodlehead tales are light-hearted tales about silly people doing silly things. These tales are
popular because of their pure nonsense and jocularity, and sometimes we enjoy the triumph
of the good-hearted simpleton over the craftier evil characters of the story.
Examples:
• Hans in Luck by the Grimm brothers
• The Three Wishes by Joseph Jacobs.
Elements of Folktales:
• Folktales are usually about ordinary people and everyday life.
• The stories include setting, characters, and a problem.
• The characters are often flat, representing one particular trait such as cleverness.
• Hyperbole is always found in tall tales.
Common Folktale Motifs:

• wishes granted
• a monster
• magic objects
• use of trickery
• a poor person becomes rich
• the number three is significant
• the youngest or smallest of siblings is successful after others in the family fail
• a variety of unwise characters
The Folktale Formula:

• The plot begins quickly.
• Characters are one-sided.
• Plots move along well-trod paths.
• All questions are answered before the story ends.
Types of Folktales:
• tales of talking animals
• tales that tell why ("pourqoui")
• tales of magic (fairy tales)
• cumulative tales
• tales of exaggeration or legendary tales (tall tales)
A folktale is an old story that's been told again and again, often for generations. If you're interested
in learning more about your heritage, you might read some folktales from the country in which your
great-great-grandparents grew up. Folktales are stories in the oral tradition, or tales that people tell
each other out loud, rather than stories in written form. They're closely related to many storytelling
traditions, including fables, myths, and fairy tales. Every human society has its own folktales; these
well-known stories, handed down between generations, are an important way of passing along
knowledge, information, and history.
The Story of the Piña

The Legend of Pineapple
Submitted by Eligio
A long time ago, in a faraway village, lived a little girl name Filipina but most people call her
Pina. Pina was still young when her parents died so her Aunt Marta adopted so she can have a place
to live in. Pina is a kind, hard-working and enduring while her Aunt Martha is lazy, mean and
easygoing. When Pina was still young, she got sick but her Aunt Martha did not let her see a doctor
and be treated. It became a reason for her eyes to be hazy. She was forced to quit school because
she can’t seem to read the lectures anymore. She simply satisfied herself by doing house chores
and playing with other children. Months has passed, Pina’s eyes became even more blurry. She was
almost blind. Most of the time, while they were playing hide and seek, the naughty kids do not find
places to hide at all. Instead, they just stand near Pina. Because she can’t clearly see them anymore,
the naughty kids were pinching her body while calling her names. Pina was just enduring all the nasty
treatment everyone is giving her.
One day while Pina was playing outside her Aunt Martha called angrily. “Pina, wash the dishes
in the kitchen! You are such a lazy kid!” cried Aunt Martha. “After you clean the dishes make sure to
wash the clothes!” Quickly, Pina left the things she was playing with and went to the kitchen to wash
the dishes. Because of her sight, she accidentally tipped the other glasses and dishes over causing
it to break. When Aunt Martha saw the mess, she became furious. She took the broom and bashed
it on Pina’s legs. “You are so stupid! Your head should be surrounded by eyes so you can see
everything near you!” yelled Aunt Martha while she still kept on bashing Pina with a broom. “Aunt
Martha, please forgive me. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that” cried Pina. But Aunt Martha doesn’t
seem to hear.
She even bashed Pina with greater intense than before. When Pina could not tolerate the pain
anymore, she ran outside while crying and went to the near woods. It was already dawn yet Pina
hasn’t returned. “I bet she’ll come back if she’s hungry” said Aunt Martha to herself. The next day
came and Pina was not yet home. Aunt Martha suddenly became worried so she asked the help of
the other children to come and look for Pina. But she was nowhere to be found. Some thought that
she was kept by the fairy in the woods that pitied her. Few more days had passed but Pina never
returned. One morning, everybody was surprised to see a plant grew at the front of Aunt Martha’s
house. It has a head-shaped fruit and surrounded by something that resembles to the appearance
of the eyes. Aunt Martha remembered what she said to Pina before she scolded her: “! Your head
should be surrounded by eyes so you can see everything near you!” “It is Pina!” one neighbor
mumbled.
One of the naughty kids curiously went near the plant. But when he tried to touch it, he was
pricked by the thorns at the end of the leaves. They recalled the nasty treatment they gave Pina. “It
really is Pina,” said the naughty kid. ”She doesn’t want anyone to get near her. We used to pinch
Pina, now she’s getting back at us!” said by the other children. “It is her Pina! It is her Pina!” everybody
shouted loudly while they were all pointing at Aunt Martha. Since then, when neighbors pass by the
plant and the fruit that shapes like a head with lots of eyes in it, they can’t help but say Pina’s name.
Eventually, the name evolved into the word Pinya
The Story of Pina

Michelle De La Cruz
This old story is about pineapples and working hard. The story went something long these
lines:
Once in a mystic jungle near the beach on the sands of the Philippines lived a man and a
woman named June, and Mara. They weren’t very rich, they weren’t very powerful, but they were
two of the hardest working people in their village, and everyone loved them for it. Every day they
would farm and work hard to keep a healthy livestock, to sell back to the village, and the village
appreciated how hard they worked. One day, while sitting in their hut, enjoying dinner, Mara turns to
June and says “aking mahal ako ay may magandang balita , ang iyong pagpunta sa maging isang
ama” They cried tears of joy, and for the first two years they lived in pure bliss with Pina, their new
baby girl. Sadly, June grew sick, and when Pina was only two, they lost his light from the family.
“Poor Mara had to continue without him. She was a hard-working woman who always did what
she had to make sure little Pina never grew up without a thing, she worked to always put food on the
table and made sure the house was always clean for her daughter. Though she never asked for
much from Pina, Mara rarely complained, because she was always willing to do what was needed
to have ends meet. As the years passed, she began to do everything for Pina. So much that Pina
never wanted to do anything for herself. She grew lazy and refused to look for things. Mara would
ask Pina to help her with sweeping the hut, but Pina said she could not find the broom sitting right in
front of her. Mara asked Pina to wash her clothes, but she said she couldn’t find the soap. Pina was
so lazy, she said she couldn’t find things sitting right in front of her nose.
“One day her mother because very ill. So ill she was stuck in bed, crying from pain. She yelled
for Pina to help. “Pina, please help me, I am took sick to do it myself and I am so desperate for
porridge. “ Pina heard but did not reply. After several minutes of silence Mara grew angered and
called for Pina to come to her room. “I’m too weak Pina, please, I need food.” “That’s so much work,
I don’t want to make you food,” Pina replied. “Don’t be lazy Pina, all you have to do is put water and
rice to boil, and stir it with the ladle every so often. I just need food to eat. Please Pina, I am too weak
to make it myself. “ Pina didn’t like hearing she was lazy, so she ran into the kitchen and began
banging around drawers and pots. “I don’t see the ladle. This is too hard for me right now. It’s not
fair!” “It’s in the drawer Pina, it’s always right there! Just look! Please.” Mara sighed and cried to
herself, “I wish you would grow a thousand eyes all over your head! Then you can find what you’re
looking for. Maybe then you won’t have any excuses!” an hour went by and Mara suspected Pina
had been too quiet- she must have run away to play with a friend. Mara pushed herself up from bed
and sluggishly went to the kitchen and began cleaning up the tantrum Pina had left behind. She
slowly looked around at the mess and sighed, “She probably went to a friend’s house so I wouldn’t
make her clean all this up.” She made her food and went back to bed.
“She slept with a fever all night, and in the morning when she woke, her fever was gone. She
walked outside and called for Pina, but still no response or Pina. She looked out into the backyard
and saw a tree growing from the Pina’s favorite play spot. For weeks she mourned over the thought
of her daughter running away because she thought she was so terrible, she vowed she would never
make Pina do another thing again. She broke her back cleaning the house, and every night she
made Pina’s favorite food, in hopes she would forgive her and come home. One day, she was
sweeping the backyard where Pina used to play, for months now the strange plant had been growing
and by this time the leaves of the plant had fully opened. Inside, she saw this strange yellow fruit that
resembled a child’s head with a thousand eyes. Mara shrieked as she walked towards the fruit
remembering what curse she wished upon her daughter. From this day on the Magical fruit was
named Pina or Pineapple, celebrated as a reminder to always work hard and not be lazy. As well as
reminding you to never wish harm unto others, and learn to control your temper when mad.”
“Sometimes I think I work really hard and really put my all into things because I the back of
my mind I don’t want any one turning me into a lazy pineapple. As a kid I enjoyed eating pineapples,
this story made me feel like when I did I was eating lazy kids. Didn’t really freak me out though, and
to this day that is why some times I am myself lazy, because I ate too much of it right out of pineapples
as a kid. My grandma would always joke, pineapples aren’t before work food, they are an after work
treat for that reason. If you eat them before you do your work, it will never get done. She used to
always say that because pineapple have so many eyes they are good for you to see better… so she
would say “Chelle, clean your glasses off and eat some pineapple, maybe then you will see…” it was
always a weird thing to my friends, but I still relate this story to why pineapples are my favorite fruit
and why I always think of it as a fruit to eat in celebration of a job well done!
“My grandma used to tell us these stories while we cooked. And this was one she chose when
ever we wished harm on one other of if none of us helped out she would threaten to wish us into
pineapples. Also some times when we wanted to eat pineapples we would make her tell it so we
could joke about eating kids and being lazy cannibals… my cousins and I are really weird haha! I
can remember most the words in fluent Tagalog, but as the years passed and I grew less fluent it
became more and more English .. except for that one line I remember verbally in Tagalog. My
grandma would always say that line as if she was saying it to grandpa. I know for sure my grandma
changed stuff because she always gave character names but I remember another friend at church
told me she had heard of it when she was young. So I think the story exists in other families too. I
don’t think my grandfather’s side has that story, though. I remember we talked about that at her
funeral reception.”
Origin: There are many stories based on fruit in the Philippines.
Analysis: This seems to be a cautionary tale for children, as well as an entertaining one that explains
the origins of a popular fruit. It is a good bit of narrative family folklore, and although the names were
chosen at will by the grandmother, the story itself is fairly well known in the Philippines. As they were
immigrants, it was a helpful way to keep oral traditions alive and tie them back to the community they
had left. It is a fable, as it tries to impart lessons onto the children that they carry with them: do not
be lazy and don’t wish harm unto others rashly.
The Monkey and the Turtle
A Monkey, looking very sad and dejected, was walking along the bank of the river one day
when he met a turtle. "How are you?" asked the turtle, noticing that he looked sad. The monkey
replied, "Oh, my friend, I am very hungry. The squash of Mr. Farmer were all taken by the other
monkeys, and now I am about to die from want of food." "Do not be discouraged," said the turtle;
"take a bob and follow me and we will steal some banana plants." So they walked along together
until they found some nice plants which they dug up, and then they looked for a place to set them.
Finally the monkey climbed a tree and planted his in it, but as the turtle could not climb he dug a hole
in the ground and set his there. When their work was finished they went away, planning what they
should do with their crop. The monkey said: "When my tree bears fruit, I shall sell it and have a great
deal of money." And the turtle said: "When my tree bears fruit, I shall sell it and buy three varas of
cloth to wear in place of this cracked shell." A few weeks later they went back to the place to see
their plants and found that that of the monkey was dead, for its roots had had no soil in the tree, but
that of the turtle was tall and bearing fruit. "I will climb to the top so that we can get the fruit," said the
monkey. And he sprang up the tree, leaving the poor turtle on the ground alone. "Please give me
some to eat," called the turtle, but the monkey threw him only a green one and ate all the the ripe
ones himself. When he had eaten all the good bananas, the monkey stretched his arms around the
tree and went to sleep. The turtle, seeing this, was very angry and considered how he might punish
the thief. Having decided on a scheme, he gathered some sharp bamboo which he all around under
the tree, and then he exclaimed: Crocodile is coming! Crocodile is coming!"
The monkey was so startled at the cry that he fell upon the sharp bamboo and was killed.
Then the turtle cut the dead monkey into pieces, put on it, and dried it in the sun. The next day, he
went to the mountains and sold his meat to other monkeys who gladly gave him squash in return. As
he was leaving them he called back: "Lazy fellows, you are now eating your own body; you are now
eating your own body." Then the monkeys ran and caught him and carried to their own home. Let us
take a hatchet," said one old monkey, "and cut him into very small pieces." But the turtle laughed
and said: "That is just what I like. I have been struck with a hatchet many times. Do you not see the
black scars on my shell?" Then one of the other monkeys said: "Let us throw him into the water." At
this the turtle cried and begged them to spare his life, but they paid no heed to his pleadings and
threw him into the water. He sank to the bottom, but very soon came up with a lobster. The monkeys
were greatly surprised at this and begged him to tell them how to catch lobsters. "I tied one end of a
string around my waist," said the turtle. "To the other end of the string I tied a stone so that I would
sink." The monkeys immediately tied strings around themselves as the turtle said, and when all was
ready they plunged into the water never to come up again. And to this day monkeys do not like to
eat meat, because they remember the ancient story.
Fable
A fable is a moral tale that often features animal characters.
Examples:
• The Tortoise and the Hare
• Slow and steady wins the race.
The word fable is derived from the Latin word fibula, which means a story, and a derivative of the
word fari, which means to speak. Fable is a literary device that can be defined as a concise and
brief story intended to provide a moral lesson at the end.
In literature, it is described as a didactic lesson given through some sort of animal story. In prose and
verse, a fable is described through plants, animals, forces, of nature, and inanimate objects by giving
them human attributes wherein they demonstrate a moral lesson at the end.
Features of a Fable
• A fable is intended to provide a moral story.
• Fables often use animals as the main characters. They are presented with anthropomorphic
characteristics, such as the ability to speak and to reason.
• Fables personify the animal characters.
Characteristics of a Fable
• Fables are fiction.
• Fables are short and have few characters.
• Characters are often animals with human attributes. They have strengths and weaknesses
and are in some sort of conflict.
• Fables are just one story.
• The setting can be anywhere.
• A lesson or moral is taught and is sometimes stated at the end of the story.
Examples of Fable in Literature

Example #1: The Fox and the Crow (By Aesop’s Fables). Aesop is probably the most notable author
of famous examples of fable. Aesopian fables put emphasis on the social communications of human
beings, and hence the morals he draws deal with realities of life. In this excerpt, Aesop gives a moral
lesson that flatterers must not be trusted.
“A crow was sitting on a branch of a tree with a piece of cheese in her beak when a fox observed her
and set his wits to work to discover some way of getting the cheese. Coming and standing under the
tree he looked up and said, ‘What a noble bird I see above me! Her beauty is without equal…’ Down
came the cheese, of course, and the Fox, snatching it up, said, ‘You have a voice, madam, I see:
what you want is wits.'”
Example #2: Animal Farm (By George Orwell). Here, old Major is speaking to other animals. It is
presented as the story of the development and emergence of Soviet communism, through an animal
fable. He advises the animals to struggle against the humans, telling them that rebellion is the only
feasible way out of their miserable situation.
“Now, comrades, what is the nature of this life of ours? Let us face it: our lives are miserable,
laborious, and short. We are born, we are given just so much food as will keep the breath in our
bodies … and the very instant that our usefulness has come to an end … No animal in England
knows the meaning of happiness or leisure after he is a year old. No animal in England is free. The
life of an animal is misery and slavery …”
Example #3: The Rime of the Ancient Mariner (By S.T. Coleridge). The voices in this poem
explain the moving ship without waves and wind. There is a supernatural force at work. This literary
piece is one of the well-written fable examples that teach about penance, redemption, and sin. The
killing of a bird symbolizes the original sin.
First Voice
“But tell me, tell me! speak again,
Thy soft response renewing —
What makes that ship drive on so fast?
What is the ocean doing?”
Second Voice
“Still as a slave before his lord,
The ocean hath no blast…
Up to the moon is cast —…
See! see! (I cried) she tacks no more…
“Without a breeze, without a tide,
She steadies with upright keel!”
Example #4: Gulliver’s Travels (By Jonathan Swift). Gulliver’s Travels is a mixture of political
allegory, moral fable, mock utopia, and social anatomy. In this excerpt, Captain Gulliver reaches an
unknown place among strange creatures who speak a strange language. This is a type of modern
fable intended to satirize political vices.
“I attempted to rise, but was not able to stir: for, as I happened to lie on my back, I found my arms
and legs were strongly fastened on each side to the ground; and my hair, which was long and thick,
tied down in the same manner … In a little time I felt something alive moving on my left leg, which
advancing gently forward over my breast, came almost up to my chin…”
Function of Fable. The purpose of writing fables is to convey a moral lesson and message. Fables
also give readers a chance to laugh at the follies of human beings, and they can be employed for the
objective of satire and criticism. They are very helpful in teaching children good lessons based on
examples. However, in literature, fables are used for didactic purposes at a much broader level.
FABLE:
The Monkey and the Crocodile
(A Tagalog Fable)
Prepared by: Pablo D. Baltazar, Edited by: Ofelia E. Concepcion
One day, a monkey saw a tall macopa tree laden with ripe fruits, which stood by a wide river. It
was hungry, so it climbed the tree and ate all of the fruits.
When it climbed down, it could find no means by which to cross the river. Then it saw a young
crocodile who had just woken up from its siesta. It said to the crocodile in a friendly way, “My dear
crocodile, will you do me a favor?” The crocodile was greatly surprised by the monkey’s amicable
salutation. So, it answered humbly, “Oh, yes! If there is anything I can do for you, I shall be glad to
do it.” The monkey then told the crocodile that it wanted to get to the other side of the river. Then the
crocodile said, “I’ll take you there with all my heart. Just sit on my back, and we’ll go at once.”
The monkey sat firmly on the crocodile’s back, and they began to move. In a short while they
reached the middle of the stream. Then the crocodile began to laugh aloud. “You foolish monkey!” it
said, “I’ll eat your liver and kidneys, for I’m very hungry.” The monkey became nervous.
Trying to conceal its anxiety, it said, “I’m very glad that you mentioned the matter. I thought
myself that you might be hungry, so I have prepared my liver and kidneys for your dinner.
Unfortunately, in our haste to depart, I left them hanging on the macopa tree. Let us return, and I’ll
get them for you.”
Convinced that the monkey was telling the truth, the crocodile turned around and swam back
to the direction of the macopa tree. When they got near the riverbank, the monkey nimbly jumped up
onto the land and scampered up the tree. The crocodile came to realize what happened and said, “I
am a fool.”
The Monkey Who Wanted to Swim
Once there was a monkey that could do so many things other animals could do. He could run
fast, carry heavy loads, bark like a real dog and moan like a goat and many other things. He would
always tell other animals that he is the most superior animal because he resembled a man.
One day, while he was walking near a river, two big ducks in the water challenged him to swim.
He didn’t know how to swim but there were other animals that heard the challenged and prodded
him to join the race in the water. He accepted the challenged and jumped at once into the water. But
alas, the water was so deep that he drowned.
Two Hungry Cats
A man who was watching the fish he was drying under the sun fell asleep. Two hungry cats
that were looking for food saw the fish on the tray. They hid themselves in the bush near the wooden
bench where the tray was. Then they talked between themselves who was going to get the fish on
the tray
The white one prodded the yellow one to go and take the fish while he watched the sleeping
man. But the yellow cat wanted the white cat to be the one to go and get the fish from the tray. Each
one was prodding the other to get at the tray bet no one wanted to go. As they were arguing who
would go for the fish, the man was awakened and, seeing the fish had dried, took the tray and left.
Wealth without a Value
A Miser had buried his gold in a secret place in his garden. Every day he went to the spot, dug
up the treasure and counted it piece by piece to make sure it was all there. He made so many trips
that a Thief, who had been observing him, guessed what it was the Miser had hidden, and one night
quietly dug up the treasure and made off with it. When the Miser discovered his loss, he was
overcome with grief and despair. He groaned and cried and tore his hair. A passerby heard his cries
and asked what had happened.
“My gold! O my gold!” cried the Miser, wildly, “someone has robbed me!” “Your gold! There in
that hole? Why did you put it there? Why did you not keep it in the house where you could easily get
it when you had to buy things?” “Buy!” screamed the Miser angrily. “Why, I never touched the gold. I
couldn’t think of spending any of it.”
The stranger picked up a large stone and threw it into the hole. “If that is the case,” he said,
“cover up that stone. It is worth just as much to you as the treasure you lost!”
Moral: Saving, Spending wisely and appropriately is a good sign if you do it for a good purpose.
Otherwise, a possession is worth no more than the use we make of it.
The Woodcutter and the Axe

Moral: Always be honest. Honesty is always rewarded.
Long ago, there lived a woodcutter in a small village. He was sincere in his work and very
honest. Every day, he set out into the nearby forest to cut trees. He brought the woods back into the
village and sold them out to a merchant and earn his money. He earned just about enough to make
a living, but he was satisfied with his simple living.
One day, while cutting a tree near a river, his axe slipped out of his hand and fell into the river.
The river was so deep, he could not even think to retrieve it on his own. He only had one axe which
was gone into the river. He became a very worried thinking how he will be able to earn his living now!
He was very sad and prayed to the God. He prayed sincerely so the God appeared in front of him
and asked, “What is the problem, my son?” The woodcutter explained the problem and requested
the God to get his axe back.
The God put his hand deep into the river and took out a silver axe and asked, “Is this your axe?”
The Woodcutter looked at the axe and said “No”. So, the God put his hand back deep into the water
again and showed a golden axe and asked, “Is this your axe?” The woodcutter looked at the axe and
said “No”. The God said, “Take a look again Son, this is a very valuable golden axe, are you sure
this is not yours?” The woodcutter said, “No, It’s not mine. I can’t cut the trees with a golden axe. It’s
not useful for me”.
The God smiled and finally put his hand into the water again and took out his iron axe and
asked, “Is this your axe?” To this, the woodcutter said, “Yes! This is mine! Thank you!” The Goddess
was very impressed with his honesty so she gave him his iron axe and also other two axes as a
reward for his honesty.
The Ant and The Dove
Moral: If you do good, good will come to you. One good turn deserves another.
On a hot day of summer, an ant was searching for some water. After walking around for some
time, she came near the river. To drink the water, she climbed up on a small rock. While trying to
drink a water, she slipped and fell into the river.
There was a dove sitting on a branch of a tree who saw an ant falling into the river. The dove
quickly plucked a leaf and dropped it into the river near the struggling ant. The ant moved towards
the leaf and climbed up onto it. Soon, the leaf drifted to dry ground, and the ant jumped out. She
looked up to the tree and thanked the dove.
Later, the same day, a bird catcher nearby was about to throw his net over the dove hoping to
trap it. An ant saw him and guessed what he was about to do. The dove was resting and he had no
idea about the bird catcher. An ant quickly bit him on the foot. Feeling the pain, the bird catcher
dropped his net and let out a light scream. The dove noticed it and quickly flew away.
The Lion and the Beetle

Retold by S.E. Schlosser
Moral: It is the high and mighty who have the longest distance to fall.
Lion was very proud and very vain. He loved to stomp around the savannah, roaring and
growling whenever he saw his animal subjects - Giraffe or Hyena or Elephant or Gazelle or Ape - to
show what a mighty Lion he was. "I am a Very Mighty King!" he roared. And his subjects all bowed
low before him. One day, Lion looked into the mirror-like waters of the lake. He was struck by his
own greatness. What a beautiful and noble creature I am, he thought. "I am a Very Mighty King!" he
roared. "I am a Very Mighty King!"
Lion preened and posed and pranced in front of the glassy lake for hours, admiring his
greatness. Finally, Lion said: "I will show my devoted subjects that their leader is every inch a King."
Lion put on his fancy robes, his jeweled crown, and all his gold and silver medals. His clothes were
very heavy, but they made him look mighty and grand. "I am a Very Mighty King!" he roared in delight.
"I am a Very Mighty King!"
Lion sent out a message to all his animal subjects - to Giraffe and Hyena and Elephant and
Gazelle and Ape. He sent messages to all the animals living on the savannah or in the junge, inviting
them to a meeting on the parade grounds in front of his palace, where they could admire him in his
finery.
And so the animals came to see Lion; the Giraffe and the Hyena and the Elephant and the
Gazelle and the Ape. And many more animals came as well; from the stately Zebra in his black-and-
white coat to the teeny, tiny Beetle, who was so little that he had to walk on the side fo the road so
the bigger animals would not step on him by accidents.
"I am small. I am little. People look down and can't see me," sang the Beetle as he scurried
through the tall grass beside the road. "I am small. I am little. But inside, I'm tall as a tree!"
When the animals were assembled on the parade ground, there came a mighty trumpet blast
from Elephant, and Lion came forth in all his grandeur.
"I am a Very Mighty King!" he roared. "I am a Very Mighty King!"
Lion strutted and preened and pranced before his animal subjects. The animals were awed by
his splendor and bowed before him. Lion stomped through the rows of Elephants and Giraffes and
Hyenas and Gazelles, roaring and growling to show how mighty he was.
"I am a Very Mighty King!" he roared. "I am a Very Mighty King!"
Then Lion saw the teeny tiny Beetle, standing alone by the side of the road. The Beetle was
singing to himself as he watched the Lion. "I am small. I am little. People look down and can't see
me," sang the Beetle as Lion strutted before his subjects. "I am small. I am little. But inside, I'm tall
as a tree!"
Lion said to the Beetle: "You, Beetle, bow before me!"
Beetle said: "Your Royal Majesty, I know that I am small, but if you look at me closely, you will
see that I am making a bow!"
Lion replied: "Beetle, you are hard to see down there! I am not sure that you are bowing to me."
Beetle said: "Look at me closely. I assure you that I am bowing."
Lion leaned over, peering down at the teeny tiny Beetle. His splendid robes, his jeweled crown
and his many medals made him so top-heavy that Lion wobbled and swayed as he loomed over the
teeny tiny Beetle. Then Lion lost his balance and fell onto his head! His royal crown went flying off,
and Lion rolled over and over, down the steep hill, and plopped into a ditch filled with muddy water.
All the animals laughed and laughed when they saw the muddy Lion sprawled in the ditch.
Frightened, the teeny tiny Beetle scurried away. And the bedraggled Lion scurried away too. He was
not so very mighty, after all.
Legend
A legend is a story about human events or actions that has not been proved nor documented
in real history. Legends are retold as if they are real events and were believed to be historical
accounts. They usually tell stories about things that could be possible, so both the storyteller and the
audience may believe they are true. Its meaning stems from the Medieval Latin term legenda,
meaning “things to be read.” and from the Latin legendus.
The details in legends are altered and adapted over time so that they stay interesting for
audiences—for instance, the legend of the Philosopher’s Stone (a magical stone that can make a
person immortal and turn metals into gold) can be found in literature in the Middle Ages to the modern
day Harry Potter series. Legends don’t claim to be exact retellings of events, so they are neither
wholly believed nor wholly doubted by the audience or the author.
Sometimes, it’s hard to say whether a legend is fiction or nonfiction—the truth behind it can be
unclear. For example, the legends of the Lochness Monster and Bigfoot are based on real sightings,
but their existence remains unproved today. Conversely, an urban legend is a fictional story in
popular culture that is known to be false, for example; a rumor passed on year after year to each
new group of freshmen about an old janitor who used to murder students at the local high school.
Though this article focuses on the literary definition, it is important to note that nowadays, we
also use the term “legend” when we want to emphasize something’s fame or importance. We often
describe things as “legendary”— for example, we would say that Babe Ruth is a legend of baseball
and Elvis is a rock and roll legend, “legendary” in popular culture.
II. Example of a Legend
Read the short story below:
Alongside the river in Old Usquepaugh, Rhode Island is an old grist mill that was built the 1700s. It
is settled beside a misty waterfall, its wheel spinning in the water all day and night to churn out corn.
Across from the mill, workers built small cottages into the sides of the hill with stones and stone and
packed the walls with horse hair for warmth. On one night in October, during the full moon, one of
the workers noticed that the mill’s wheel stopped spinning, so he pulled on his coat and walked to
the mill. He thought he saw a branch wedged in the top of the wheel, so climbed a ladder to the roof.
As he reached to grab the branch, he lost his footing, falling into the rocky falls below. His body was
never found. They say that every October, on the night of the full moon, the wheel stops turning as
it did that night long ago…and coming from the mist of the falls, you can hear the sound of a man
moaning.
The ghost story above could be a legend for several key reasons. First, it is based on a real place
and corn mill in Rhode Island, where the mill worker’s cottages still stand today. Second, the plotline
is believable and possible. Third, the details are ambiguous…does the wheel really stop every
October? It’s possible. Can you hear a man moaning? Unlikely…but could it be real? As you can
see, parts of the story are real, but other parts are, perhaps, fiction.
III. Importance of Legends. As stories, mankind has and always will love legends—they are an
intriguing form of storytelling because we want to believe that they are true. They are an essential
part of oral and written folklore; they are found in folktales from all cultures (see Related Terms). It is
part of our nature to share interesting and significant tales with friends and future generations so that
they can be recorded and remembered. As much as people like to tell stories, they like to exaggerate
even more, which is why legends are so timeless—their facts have been embellished and changed
so many times that the truth becomes a mystery that still might need to be solved, and that makes
them particularly intriguing. So long as we continue to pass down interesting stories, legends will
continue to exist and flourish.
IV. Examples of Legend in Literature
Example 1. The selection recounts the day when Guinevere supposedly came to Camelot and
Arthur’s plans for their wedding. Furthermore, Malory describes the arrival of the “Table Round” and
the knights that were carrying it. But, whether or not any of this actually happened remains debatable.
While it is generally believed that King Arthur was a real historical figure, the particulars of his life
and rule are uncertain, unreliable, and unclear—thus, all of the stories about King Arthur are legends.
Sir Thomas Malory’s Le Morte d’Arthur is the most famous and influential collection of tales in
literature detailing the legend of King Arthur. In fact, all of the stories you’ve ever heard about King
Arthur, Queen Guinevere, Lancelot, the wizard Merlin, the Knights of the Round Table, and the city
of Camelot are likely from Le Morte d’Arthur. The passage below is from the Third Book of Le Morte
d’Arthur, in the chapter titled “How the knights of the Round Table were ordained, and their sieges
blessed by the bishop of Canterbury”:
When king Arthur heard of the coming of Guenever and the hundred knights with the Table Round,
then king Arthur made great joy for their coming, and that rich present, and said openly, This fair lady
is passing welcome unto me, for I have loved her long, and therefore there is nothing so lief to me.
And these knights with the Round Table please me more than right great riches. And in all haste the
king let ordain for the marriage and the coronation in the most honourablest wise that could be
devised.
Example 2. Here, the narrator finds the Count in his coffin at night, having clearly just fed on human
blood. Stoker’s description above paints the perfect picture of today’s classic vampire. From horror
flicks, to teen vampire novels, to scary Halloween costumes, to Count Chocula breakfast cereal,
Stoker’s Count Dracula has infiltrated not only literature, but all parts of popular culture. He
successfully turned the age-old legend of evil beings that drink human blood into iconic image.
Interestingly, Count Dracula was supposedly inspired by a 16th century Romanian general of the
same name, which tempts audiences to wonder…could vampires be real?
The legend of the vampire Count Dracula has been inspiring vampire stories and culture for two
centuries. Bram Stoker unveiled this character in the iconic 1897 horror novel Dracula. Stoker did
not create the legend that vampires exist, but he created our idea of vampires—the character Dracula
represents our modern perception of vampires in every way. Visualize a “classic” vampire—you
probably see an ancient man with pale white skin, sharp fangs dripping red, a cape shaped like a
bat’s wings, and a sinister desire for human blood. Furthermore, you imagine that he can only come
out at night, and sleeps in a coffin during the day, and is cold to the touch, like a corpse. Read the
following passage from Dracula—
I raised the lid, and laid it back against the wall; and then I saw something which filled my very soul
with horror. There lay the Count, but looking as if his youth had been half renewed, for the white hair
and moustache were changed to dark iron-grey; the cheeks were fuller, and the white skin seemed
ruby-red underneath; the mouth was redder than ever, for on the lips were gouts of fresh blood,
which trickled from the corners of the mouth and ran over the chin and neck.
V. Examples of Legend in Pop Culture
Example 1. Legends are often based on creatures that could be real, but haven’t been proven to
exist according to science. These legends often date back centuries and have been retold generation
after generation up until today, where they remain mysteries. Bigfoot, the Lochness Monster, and
the Abominable Snowman are three prime examples of legends that some people are still searching
for. On the Discovery Channel show River Monsters, biologist and TV presence Jeremy Wade
explores reported sightings of giant river creatures. In the series special “Legend of Loch Ness,”
Wade tries to uncover the mystery of the legend of the Loch Ness monster, as he introduces in the
following clip:
Legend Of Loch Ness | River Monsters Special. In his introduction, Wade explains why this
legend is so hard for him to believe—yet he is still setting out on a mission to discover the monster
in Loch Ness, truly believing it could exist. There are an abundance of documentaries and episodes
on television tackling legends just like this. Nowadays, with the ability to capture things on videos,
you’d think it would be easier to prove and disprove these creatures’ existence—but in fact, it makes
people question more and search even harder.
Example 2. Some authors and artists create fictional legends based on personal ideas, as did the
creators of The Legend of Zelda, a fantasy video game series that has been a gaming favorite since
the first release 1986. The back-story was dreamt up by Shigeru Miyamoto and Takashi Tezuka and
was then developed by Nintendo. The game designers turned Miyamoto’s childhood memories into
their own fantasy world; complete with the legend of the elf warrior Link and his many quests. Link is
the protagonist and the games’ playable character, and in each version of the game he is tasked
with saving the princess Zelda. Game play is set in the kingdom of Hyrule, which has its own complex
history. So, the legend of Zelda isn’t a legend from man’s history—it’s a legend from Hyrule’s history.
In the clips below, a fan outlines the detailed history of Hyrule, its major figures, and the legend of
Zelda.
History of Hyrule Part I: Zelda Timeline EXPLAINED in 15 Minutes, Part 1 (Creation Era)
History of Hyrule Part II: Zelda Timeline EXPLAINED in 15 Minutes, Part 2 (Downfall Era). The
Legend of Zelda has also been made into several animated TV series, comic books, and other forms
of media. Since the 1980s, a new video or computer game has been released every few years, each
with fresh storylines and quests for Link to complete.
A legend is a larger-than-life story that gets passed down from one generation to the next — like the
legends of Beowulf, Robin Hood, or even Big Foot. Legend comes from the Latin legere, "to read."
The Latin word was originally limited to written stories, but in English, legend lost that limitation. Often
a legend lives on in the stories that people tell each other. A person can be a legend too. Anne Frank
is a legend for keeping a diary of hidden life in war time, and a less famous person, like a long-
serving local teacher, can be a legend to neighborhood kids.
There are different Filipino legends

• The legend of the great flood.
• The story of Bukidnon, tells that a huge crab caused the water to rise by going into the sea.
• The Igorot story tells that the sons of Lumawig the Great Spirit caused the flood.
The Flood Story
A Legend of Bukidnon
A long time ago there was a very big crab which crawled into the sea. When it went in, it crowded
the water out so that it ran all over the earth and covered all the land. Now about one moon before
the flood happened, a wise man had told the people that they must build a large raft. They did as he
commanded and cut many large trees until they had enough to make three layers. These they bound
tightly together; when it was done, they fastened the raft with a long rattan cord to a big pole in the
earth.
Soon after the raft was done, the flood came. White water poured out of the hills, and the sea
rose and covered even the highest mountains. The people and animals on the raft were safe, but all
the others drowned.
Soon the waters went down, and the raft was again on the ground. It was near their old home,
for the rattan cord had held. The people on the raft together with the animals were the only ones left
on the whole earth.
The Flood Story
(A Legend of the Igorot)
Once upon a time, the world was flat, and there were no mountains. There lived two sons of
Lumawig, the Great Spirit. The brothers were fond of hunting; since no mountains had formed, there
was no good place to catch wild pig and deer. The older brother said, “Let us cause water to flow
over all the world and cover it, and then mountains will rise up.”
So, the brothers caused water to flow over all the earth. When it was covered, they took the
head-basket of the town and set it for a trap. They were very much pleased when they went to look
at their trap, for they had caught not only many wild pigs and deer but also many people. Lumawig
looked down from his place in the sky and saw that his sons had flooded the earth. However, there
was just one spot which was not covered. All the people in the world had been drowned except a
brother and a sister who lived in Pokis. Then Lumawig descended, and he called to the boy and girl,
saying, “Oh, you are still alive.”
“Yes,” answered the boy, “we are still alive, but we are very cold.” So, Lumawig commanded
his dog and deer to get fire for the boy and girl. The dog and the deer swam quickly away. Lumawig
waited a long time, but the dog and the deer did not return. All the time the boy and girl were growing
colder. Finally, Lumawig himself went after the dog and the deer. When he reached them, he said,
“Why are you so long in bringing the fire to Pokis? Get ready and come quickly while I watch you, for
the boy and girl are very cold.”
Then the dog and the deer took the fire and started to swim through the flood.
When they had gone only a little way, the fire was put out.
Lumawig commanded the dog and the deer to get more fire, and they did so. However, they
swam only a little way again when that of the deer went out. That of the dog would have been
extinguished also had not Lumawig gone quickly to him and taken it.
As soon as Lumawig reached Pokis, he built a big fire which warmed the brother and sister.
The water evaporated so that the world was as it was before, except that now there were mountains.
The brother and sister married and had children, and thus there came to be many people on the
earth.
The Legend of the Dwarf
A Story of the Maya Peoples of Yucatan, retold by Rohini Chowdhury

Many hundreds of years ago, there lived an old woman, all alone in a tiny hut. She had no
children, and no one to ask after her. The old woman would weep night and day for a child, but of
course, with no result. One day she took an egg, wrapped it carefully in cotton cloth, and put it in a
corner of her hut. Night and day the old woman looked after the egg, in the hope that maybe it would
give her a child. But nothing happened, and every day the old woman grew more and more unhappy.
One morning, as she went to look at the egg, she found that it had broken – and in its shell sat
the tiniest, loveliest baby boy that anyone could imagine. The baby saw the old woman and smiled
and held out its tiny arms. The old woman was delighted – here at last was the child she had wanted
for so long.
The old woman loved the child dearly, and looked after it so carefully and so well, that by the
time it was a year old it could walk and talk as well as any grown up. But for some strange reason,
no one knows what, the baby stopped growing. He remained as tiny as a one-year old for the rest of
his life. He began to be called the ‘Dwarf’.
The old woman did not care. She still loved the baby devotedly. ‘You will be a great king one
day, my child,’ she told him, sure that the baby was destined for great things.
One day the old woman said to the Dwarf, ‘Go to the king’s palace, my son, and challenge him
to test his strength against yours.’
The Dwarf protested. ‘How can I challenge the king, mother?’ he said horrified. ‘He is greater
and much stronger than I.’
But the old woman insisted, and the Dwarf was forced to do as she said.
The king smiled at the child’s challenge and asked him to lift a heavy stone. The Dwarf went
weeping to the old woman. ‘How can I lift that heavy stone?’ he asked.
‘If the king can lift it, so can you,’ said the old woman, and sent him back to the palace.
And sure enough, the Dwarf was able to lift the heavy stone.
The king gave him many more tasks to do, but anything the king could do, the Dwarf could do
as well.
When the king saw that this tiny little child could do whatever he himself could do, he was afraid,
and very angry. He decided to get rid of the child by asking him to do something impossible.
‘Build me a palace taller and higher and more magnificent than any in my city,’ the King
commanded the Dwarf. ‘You must do this in one night. If the palace is not ready by tomorrow morning,
you will die.’ The King thought that the Dwarf would never be able to fulfill his command, and so
would lose his head.
The Dwarf was terribly frightened. He ran home to the old woman and wept. ‘How will I ever
build a palace that high or that magnificent?’ he cried. ‘I will surely die tomorrow.’
The old woman comforted the child and said, ‘Go to sleep, my son. It will be done by the
morning.’ The Dwarf did as his mother said and went to sleep. The next morning, he woke up in a
beautiful palace, taller, higher and more magnificent that any in the king’s city. This is the palace the
ruins of which can still be seen in the city of Uxmal.
When the king looked out of his window that morning, he saw the new palace towering up to
the sky. He was amazed. ‘I must think of another way to get rid of him,’ he thought.
The king then sent for the Dwarf and asked him to collect two bundles of cogoiol, a sort of hard
wood. ‘With one bundle I shall strike you on the head,’ said the king to the dwarf. ‘And if you survive,
you may strike me on the head with the other.’
The Dwarf ran back to his mother, weeping and wailing. ‘The king wants to kill me,’ he said.
‘For how can I survive a blow on my head with a bundle of hardwood?’
The old woman told the child not to worry. She gave him two bundles of cogoiol and, placing a
tortilla on his head, sent him back to the king.
he king had assembled all his ministers and the nobles of his court for what he hoped would be
his triumph over the Dwarf. He took his bundle of wood and hit the Dwarf hard on his head with it. In
fact, he hit the Dwarf so hard that the bundle of hardwood splintered into a hundred pieces. But the
Dwarf stood unharmed.
Now the king was frightened. He tried to get out of the contest, but the ministers and noblemen
insisted he keep his end of the bargain. They insisted the Dwarf hit the king with his bundle of wood.
The Dwarf did so, and at once the king died.
The assembled nobles and ministers and the people of the city who had come to watch the
contest declared the Dwarf to be their new king. The old woman’s wish had come true – her little
child was now a great king.
After this the old woman disappeared. But is said, that far away in the village of Mani, there is
a deep well leading to an underground passage. In this passage, beside a river and shaded by a
great tree, sits an old woman with a serpent by her side. She sells water but accepts no money. But
be careful before you buy her water, for she wants your babies in return, innocent children which her
serpent devours. This old woman is the Dwarf’s mother.
The Legend of the Guava

(Philippine Legend)
A long time ago, there's a king who ruled a rich, prosperous island. He had all the things a king
could ever ask for: the power, the wealth, and all the delicious foods one could only imagine. The
king's name was King Barabas.
King Barabas is a rude king and overweight, indulging himself to all the foods available, hesitant
to share. And his castle is starting to become filthy. He would spend most of his time sitting and
eating with his bare hands. As he eats, he drips food on the floor and smile mockingly at the people
around him, specially his servants.
People in the kingdom would approach with requests for his help, but he would always refuse.
As he neglected his kingdom, people started to complain and starve.
After some time, an old hunched-back woman showed up at the castle begging for food while
the king was eating. The old lady asked for food as she was starving.
"Go away! I don't have anything to give. Can't you see I'm eating?" said the king.
"Please, my king," begged the old woman. "I'm asking for anything, anything you could give me
as I am so hungry. Even a little piece of bread or fruit would do."
"Get out at once! You disgust me," the king belittled the old beggar.
The old woman stood up straight, casting aside her stooped posture. "I've heard much about
you and how your kingdom is suffering." The tone of her voice had changed. It was no longer the
voice of a weak, old woman. "I asked for help, and you shoved me away. You have a lot for yourself,
but when I only asked for a little food, you belittled me. You are selfish. No one loves you and no one
will remember you when you are gone!"
And the beggar disappeared.
After a few more days, the king slowly weakened and became sick. No one knows what's wrong
with him. He got weaker and weaker and lost much weight. He looked older than his age. Soon after
that, the king died. As unfortunate and unexpected as it was, no one cried and nobody showed up
at the king's burial. He died alone.
And where the king was buried, his people noticed a strange plant growing, a plant they had
never seen before. The plant soon grew into a tree, which bore rounded fruits that turned yellowish
when ripe.
People also noticed that the fruit seemed to have a crown as it develops, which reminded them
of their selfish, arrogant king. The flesh of the fruit tasted a bit sour, just like the sour personality of
the king towards them.
The people learned to eat the fruit, which helped them with starvation. And because the tree
was from the grave of their King Barabas and it has crown just like their king, they named the tree
after him: barabas, which in time they called bayabas.
The fruit is still called, as to this day, bayabas.
And although the guava may have came from the rude, selfish King Barabas, guava fruit is one
of the fruits that offers many health benefits when consumed, the fruit is a good source of vitamin C.
The leaves are made into tea and treats many diseases as well from a simple toothache, to treating
diarrhea, lowering blood sugar, and many more. And it is used amongst young boys after their
circumcision in the Philippines.
Or maybe it's the way of the late king to make up for the wrongdoings?
Legend of the Firefly
Lovely little creatures, glittering, sparkling, throwing fragments of light in the dark night skies.
How did the fireflies or alitaptap come about?
Once, a long time ago, in the valley of Pinak in Central Luzon, one of the islands in the
Philippines. There was a deep large lake rich with fish. There, the people of Pinak fished for their
food, and always, there was plenty for all. Then suddenly, the big river dried up. In the shallow mud,
there wasn’t a fish to catch. For months, there were no rains. Out in the fields, the land turned dry.
The rice-stalks slowly withered. Everywhere in Pinak, there was hunger. Night after night, the people
of Pinak prayed hard.
“Dear Bathala,” they would recite together in their small and poorly-built chapel, ” send us rains,
give us food to eat. For the people are starving, and there is want among us!”
Then one black and starless night, the good Bathala answered the prayers of the faithful people
of Pinak. For suddenly up in the dark skies appeared a blaze of gold! A beautiful chariot of gold was
zooming thru the sky. The people started to panic but a big booming voice came from the chariot
soothing them with words.
”I am Bula-hari, and I have come with my wife, Bitu-in. We are sent from the heavens to rule
Pinak from now on. We have come to give you good life!” As Bulan-hari spoke, the black skies burst
open. The rain fell in torrents. Soon the dry fields bloomed again. The large lake rose and once again
was filled with fish. The people were happy once more under the rulership of Bulan-hari.
Soon Bulan-hari and Bitu-in had a daughter. She grew up to be a beautiful maiden. Such long
dark hair! Such lovely eyes under long curling lashes! Her nose was chiselled fine. Her lips like
rosebuds. Her skin was soft and fair like cream. They named her Alitaptap for on her forehead was
a bright sparkling star.
All the young, brave handsome men of Pinak fell in love with Alitaptap. They worshipped her
beauty. They sang songs of love beneath her windows. They all sought to win her heart.
But alas! the heart of Alitaptap wasn’t human. She was the daughter of Bulan-hari and Bitu-in,
who burst from the sky and were not of the earth. She had a heart of stone, as cold and as hard as
the sparkling star on her forehead. Alitaptap would never know love.
Then one day, an old woman arrived at the palace. Her hair long and dirty. her clothing tattered
and soiled. Before the king Bulan-hari, Balo-na, the old, wise woman whined in her sharp voice…
that she had come from her dwelling in the mountains to bear the king sad news. The news being
that she saw the future in a dream and it betold of their fate… the warriors of La-ut are coming with
their mighty swords to conquer the land, the only solution is to have a marriage between Alitaptap
and one of the young men, so as to have an heir to win the war.
At once Bulan-hari pleaded with his daughter to choose one of the young men in their village.
But how could the beautiful maiden understand? Alitaptap’s heart of stone merely stood in silence.
Bulan-hari gripped his sword in despair… “Alitapatap!” he bellowed in the quiet palace, “You will
follow me, or you will lay dead this very minute!”
But nothing could stir the lovely young woman’s heart. Bulan-hari blind with anger and fear of
the dark future finally drew his sword. Clang! the steel of his sword’s blade rang in the silence of the
big palace. It hit the star on Alitaptap’s lovely forehead!
The star burst! Darkness was everywhere! Until a thousand chips of glitter and light flew around
the hall. Only the shattered pieces of the star on Alitaptap’s forehead lighted the great hall, flickering
as though they were stars with tiny wings. Alitaptap, the lovely daughter from the heavens lay dead.
And soon, Balo-na’s prediction had come true. Riding in stamping wild horses, the warriors of
La-ut came like the rumble and clashes of lightning and thunder. They killed the people of Pinak,
ruined crops, poisoned the lake. They spread sorrow and destruction everywhere.
When it all ended, the beautiful, peaceful valley of Pinak had turned into an empty and shallow
swamp. At night, there was nothing but darkness. But soon, tiny sparkles of light would flicker and
lend glimmers of brightness in the starless night.
And so, the fireflies came about. Once, a long time ago, they were fragments from the star on
the forehead of Bulan-hari’s daughter, the beautiful Alitaptap.
The Legend of the Guava

Precy Anza
A long time ago, there's a king who ruled a rich, prosperous island. He had all the things a king
could ever ask for: the power, the wealth, and all the delicious foods one could only imagine. The
king's name was King Barabas.
King Barabas is a rude king and overweight, indulging himself to all the foods available, hesitant
to share. And his castle is starting to become filthy. He would spend most of his time sitting and
eating with his bare hands. As he eats, he drips food on the floor and smile mockingly at the people
around him, specially his servants.
People in the kingdom would approach with requests for his help, but he would always refuse.
As he neglected his kingdom, people started to complain and starve.
After some time, an old hunched-back woman showed up at the castle begging for food while
the king was eating. The old lady asked for food as she was starving.
"Go away! I don't have anything to give. Can't you see I'm eating?" said the king.
"Please, my king," begged the old woman. "I'm asking for anything, anything you could give me
as I am so hungry. Even a little piece of bread or fruit would do."
"Get out at once! You disgust me," the king belittled the old beggar.
The old woman stood up straight, casting aside her stooped posture. "I've heard much about
you and how your kingdom is suffering." The tone of her voice had changed. It was no longer the
voice of a weak, old woman. "I asked for help, and you shoved me away. You have a lot for yourself,
but when I only asked for a little food, you belittled me. You are selfish. No one loves you and no one
will remember you when you are gone!"
And the beggar disappeared.

After a few more days, the king slowly weakened and became sick. No one knows what's wrong
with him. He got weaker and weaker and lost much weight. He looked older than his age. Soon after
that, the king died. As unfortunate and unexpected as it was, no one cried and nobody showed up
at the king's burial. He died alone.
And where the king was buried, his people noticed a strange plant growing, a plant they had
never seen before. The plant soon grew into a tree, which bore rounded fruits that turned yellowish
when ripe.
People also noticed that the fruit seemed to have a crown as it develops, which reminded them
of their selfish, arrogant king. The flesh of the fruit tasted a bit sour, just like the sour personality of
the king towards them.
The people learned to eat the fruit, which helped them with starvation. And because the tree
was from the grave of their King Barabas and it has crown just like their king, they named the tree
after him: barabas, which in time they called bayabas.
The fruit is still called, as to this day, bayabas.
And although the guava may have come from the rude, selfish King Barabas, guava fruit is one
of the fruits that offers many health benefits when consumed, the fruit is a good source of vitamin C.
The leaves are made into tea and treats many diseases as well from a simple toothache, to treating
diarrhea, lowering blood sugar, and many more. And it is used amongst young boys after their
circumcision in the Philippines.
Or maybe it's the way of the late king to make up for the wrongdoings?
The Legend of the banana

Cainta , Philippines
Once upon there was a girl named Raja. She was the only friend of the fisherman named
Galencio. Sadly Galencio died because of heart disease. Raja was so alone that she talked with
animals even plants. One day while Raja was talking to a bird, a rabbit came running. She followed
the rabbit till she reached a dirty cave. At the cave she saw a spirit, she followed the spirit she
stumbled and find herself in a place full of gold, diamonds and silver. She began to jump.
The spirit turned to flesh and kissed her, she slept and woke in a beautiful golden bedroom.
The spirit man was Baanna, he married Raja and had a son. Baanna know that it his time to return
to the spirit world .. on that day he went out and disappeared, all could Raja see was a bleeding
heart. She picked it and planted it and the plant grew and bore a golden fruit, as golden as the golden
bedroom - she named it banana as a honor to Baanna.
The Legend of Sampaguita
Eligio
A long time ago, there were neighboring Baranggays named Balintawak and Gagalangin.
Between the two baranggay, is a very sturdy fence made up of dried bamboo. Every five years, they
destroy it and build a new fence. Sometimes, the guardsmen from Balintawak watch over the fence,
oftentimes the guardsmen from Gagalangin. Everything is working according to the rules of each
datu.
The datu of Barangay Balintawak has a daughter with incomparable beauty and kindness. Her
name is Rosita. Her mother died when she was young, however, she has four maids to assist her
every need. There are a lot of handsome young men who admires her. But the only man who
captured her heart is the son of Gagalangin’s datu, whose name is Delfin.
The conflict between their parents did not stopped Delfin and Rosita from loving each other. At
the end of the bamboo fence lies there secret lair. Every night when the moon is bright, they meet at
the end of the fence and stroll along with Rosita’s maids. Their relationship is hidden from both of
their datu parents.
One day, the datu of Gagalangin heard that the fence is being destroyed by the servants of
datu Balintawak so that they can build a new one. He asked one of his guards to watch at the said
fence-making. When the guard came back, he told the datu that the new fence was moved. He was
mad because the datu of Balintawak took five meters of their land. Immediately, he sent a man to
the datu of the neighboring baranggay.
”Tell the datu of Balintawak to put the fence back where it is supposed to be. They are being
unlawful and stealing one’s land is a crime!” said the datu of Gagalangin.
When the datu of Balintawak heard about it, he became furious and asked the servant to give
a message to their datu. “Tell your datu that I never stole anything from him. I just placed the bamboo
fences at its right place according to the documents that I discovered, written by my ancestors.”
Delfin’s father was very much displeased with the other datu’s response.
This kind of conflicts usually results bloodshed among the two baranggays.
The datu of Gagalangin prepared his unit for the upcoming battle. He needs to get their
baranggay’s stolen land even by violent means.When the news reached the datu of Balintawak, he
eagerly prepared his battle unit as well. The two leaders are now ready for a never-ending war.
A few days before Gagalangins planned to attack the Balintawak, the datu got sick. He became
seriously ill that lead him to his death. The responsibility was then handed to Delfin. He will be the
one to lead the battle troops of baranggay Gagalangin.
The female servants told Rosita what was about to happen and she started to become
frightened. Delfin is so young and does not have any experience when it comes to war. His father,
on the other hand, had been trained to fight since he was still a child. She worried too much. She
wanted to talk to Delfin and ask him to forfeit the war and simply talk to his father and settle the
conflict peacefully. However, they do not have time to converse anymore. Tomorrow is the start of
an endless battle between the two baranggays.
Both parties lost so many lives. Delfin was badly hurt and shed a lot of blood. He started to be
blurry. He was half conscious when he fell to the ground. Before his last breath, he told one of his
comrades to bury him near the end of the fence where he and Rosita used to secretly see each
other.
Nobody can ever tell what really happened to the young lovers or the result of the war. All they
knew is that Rosita became seriously ill when she knew that Delfin died in the battle. Her father called
for so many doctors to make her feel well but neither one of them can treat Rosita. When she was
about to die, Rosita told her father to bury her near Delfin, at the end of the bamboo fence. Though
it is hard for the datu to do, she still obeyed her daughter’s last wish.
Many years had passed and the existence of baranggays gradually disappeared. Spaniards
came and the city of Manila was established. Balintawak and Gagalangin became populated. But all
the people living in these two places were having a mysterious experience. During the month of May,
especially when the moon is bright, they hear a mystical sweet voice of a lady saying “Sumpa kita!
Sumpa kita!” (I swear, I swear) but nobody can see from whom it is coming from. It seems as if
it comes from the bushes where little white flowers grow. Although the flowers are so tiny, it bursts
out a different kind of scent that everybody loves to smell. That’s what usually happens every month
of May, each year.
Because everyone was so curious about the voice, they all decided to dig up the spot and
uncover the mystery behind it. To their surprise, they found the roots of the bushes where the lovely
flower grows, comes from the mouth of the two bodies buried not so far from each other. The elders
remembered the memoir of the two lovers – Delfin and Rosita.
The story spread fast. The words “Sumpa kita” evolved as “Sampaguita” that signifies an
everlasting love of Delfin and Rosita.
Myth
A myth is a classic or legendary story that usually focuses on a particular hero or event, and explains
mysteries of nature, existence, or the universe with no true basis in fact. Myths exist in every culture;
but the most well known in Western culture and literature are part of Greek and Roman mythology.
The characters in myths—usually gods, goddesses, warriors, and heroes—are often responsible for
the creation and maintenance of elements of nature, as well as physical, emotional, and practical
aspects of human existence—for example Zeus; the god of the sky and the earth and father of gods
and men, and Aphrodite; the goddess of love and fertility. A culture’s collective myths make up its
mythology, a term that predates the word “myth” by centuries. The term myth stems from the ancient
Greek muthos, meaning a speech, account, rumor, story, fable, etc. The terms myth and mythology
as we understand them today arose in the English language in the 18th century.
II. Example of Myth. This short passage employs the classic Herculean myth to the story of dog.
The hero Hercules was known for his superhuman strength and abilities as a warrior, but also for his
pride. Here, a dog named Hercules is described as having similar traits and abilities as the Hercules
of Greek myth. Many stories include an element of a popular myth in a new way. Read the following
example:
The dog was strong and fearless, and you could tell by the way he sat that he was a proud pooch.
His bravery was famous amongst dogs and other creatures far and wide; the stories of his deeds
were known by young pups and old mutts alike. His owners had named him Hercules, after the great
hero of legend, and he had lived up to his namesake.
III. Types of Myths. Myths are generally classified by cultural origin, and together those myths
comprise a culture’s mythology. The most important mythologies in western culture are those of
Rome and Greece, as mentioned above, which are generally collectively known as Classical
Mythology. It is believed that both were developed from the beliefs of popular life at the time they
were created.
The Greek Myths. The Greek myths are a collection of myths developed by the ancient Greeks.
They were developed long before the Roman, with evidence of their existence dating back as far as
2000BC. The myths concern topics such as the origins of human practices and rituals, the laws of
nature, gods and heroes, and so on. Many myths explain the origin of the universe and the creation
of man. The Greek myths also have a pantheon of gods and goddesses who rule and order the
universe, the most notable being the Olympians, the gods and goddesses who reside under Zeus
on Mount Olympus. The most widely used elements of myth in fiction are from Greek mythology,
particularly its gods and goddesses.
The Roman Myths. The Roman myths are a collection of myths about the origins and development
of ancient Rome; of which the stories primarily pertain to order of Roman society, rather than the
order of the universe. It is believed the Romans thought of them as true historical accounts, despite
the fact that they included supernatural and mystical elements. They are also religious in nature, and
use divine law to explain issues of politics and morality. Like the Greek myths, they have pantheon
of gods and goddesses, most of which are named from the stars and planets. However, the gods
have a much smaller role in Roman mythology and religion than in the Greek. Unlike the Greek
myths, the Roman myths do not have a creation story about the origin of the universe.
IV. Importance of Myth. The importance of myth is immeasurable—in literature, philosophy, history
and many other parts of human life. They have been a huge part of oral, written, and visual story
telling for literally thousands of years; in fact, they have been a part of mankind’s entire history.
Humans have always used myths to explain natural phenomena and life’s mysteries; for instance,
Greek and Roman mythology served as both science and religion in both cultures for centuries. To
this day myths have a very large and relevant place in cultural studies and scholarship, and are
represented across studies in literature, religion, philosophy, and many other disciplines. Part of the
allure of myths is that the exact process and purpose of their development is unclear. For instance,
some scholars believe that myths are inaccurate accounts of real historical events, while others
argue that the gods and goddesses were personifications of objects and things in nature that ancient
men worshiped.
V. Examples of Myth in Literature
Example 1. Most myths have been passed through oral tradition, and were later written down by
scholars and historians—there are no original written collections of Greek mythology, they were not
recorded until centuries after they were first believed to be developed. One of the most well respected
collections of retellings of Greek and Roman myths is The Greek Myths by Robert Graves. In the
selection below, Graves dictates the myth about the creation of Mount Olympus, where the gods and
goddesses reside and rule.
Graves’s purpose is to record and retell the classic Greek myths in the most original and accurate
form possible. Scholars of mythology see the dozens of myths that he covers in his collection as
some of the most accurate and well-developed representations of these ancient tales.
Example 2. Here, the goddess Minerva flies down from mythological Mount Olympus to the hall
where the hero Ulysses rules. As can be seen, Homer draws from both Greek and Roman mythology
in the development of both epics. The most important representations of mythology in literature are
found in Homer’s The Iliad; which follows the king and warrior Odysseus through the Trojan War,
and The Odyssey, which follows his journey home and his many encounters with mythological gods
and creatures. The passage below describes Minerva, the Roman goddess of wisdom:
This said, her golden sandals to her feet

She bound, ambrosial, which o’er all the earth
And o’er the moist flood waft her fleet as air,
Then, seizing her strong spear pointed with brass,
In length and bulk, and weight a matchless beam,
With which the Jove-born Goddess levels ranks

Of Heroes, against whom her anger burns,
From the Olympian summit down she flew,
And on the threshold of Ulysses’ hall
In Ithaca, and within his vestibule
Apparent stood; there, grasping her bright spear[.]
Example 3. There are several noteworthy myths whose themes have been retold in varied ways
across many cultures, predominantly the “creation myth” and the “flood myth,” which are popularly
retold within the context of religion. A creation myth explains the creation of man, the universe, or
some other element of life. A flood myth usually depicts a great flood sent by the gods to essentially
destroy mankind, often as a form of punishment for forgetting the power and importance of divine
rule. For example, the biblical story of Noah’s ark is a representation of the flood myth in Christianity,
which is depicted below in a painting by Gustave Doré. Furthermore, most religions have a form of
creation myth to explain the existence the universe and mankind.
VI. Examples Myth in Pop Culture
Example 1. The blockbuster film Troy is about the mythological heroes of Trojan War. Actor Brad
Pitt plays the great Greek warrior and hero Achilles, who sails with the Spartan army for their attack
on the city of Troy. In the clip below, he contemplates his part in the war with his mother Thetis; the
goddess of water:
Troy - Achilles and His Mother Thetis [1080p Blu-Ray]. In this scene, Achilles is ultimately
deciding his fate. He knows that if he goes to war he will never return; he also knows he has a
significant part to play in it because he is a legendary warrior. For Achilles to fulfill his destiny he
must die, and while he may be a hero with some superhuman qualities and godlike fighting abilities,
he is ultimately a mortal man.
Example 2. The Walt Disney Corporation is famous for retelling and adapting well known myths,
legends, and fairy tales into family movies. For instance, the animated Disney film Hercules retells
the ancient Greek myth of the hero Hercules (mentioned above) in a way that families can enjoy:
Disney's Hercules Gods On Olympus. Adaptations like these are valuable form for the retelling of
myths. Films like Disney classics let children enjoy bright and appealing stories about age-old
characters and themes. By presenting the stories in a way that is popular and relevant, children are
encouraged to learn about classics. While an animated Disney film is certainly not a completely
accurate depiction of the myth of Hercules, it still introduces children to a classic story that is an
important part of literary culture.
A myth is a story that’s told again and again and serves to explain why something is the way it is. A
creation myth, for example, is a story that tells how the world came into being.
You may have studied Greek or Roman myths in which gods and goddesses wage war and play
tricks on each other. These myths are not necessarily true stories from the past — the main idea is
that they explain certain ideas about the world and how people act. The story might be accepted as
true and serve to explain some fact about the world, or it might be known to be made-up but
nevertheless illustrates something about people or history.
There are Philippine versions of the creation myth. The Igorot’s story tells that Lumawig the Great
Spirit created people. On the other hand, the Tagalog story tells that the first man and woman came
from a bamboo.
The Creation
(An Igorot Myth)
In the beginning, there were no people on the earth. Lumawig, the Great Spirit, came down
from the sky and cut many reeds. He divided the reeds into pairs which he placed in different parts
of the world, and then he said to them, “You must speak.” Immediately the reeds became people,
and in each place was a man and a woman who could talk. However, the language of each couple
differed from that ofthe others.
Then Lumawig commanded each man and woman to marry, which they did. By and by there
were many children, all speaking the same language as their parents. The children married and had
many children of their own. In this way, there came to be many people on the earth.
Now Lumawig saw that there were several things which the people on the earth needed to use,
so he set to work to supply them. He created salt and told the inhabitants of one place to boil it down
and sell it to their neighbors. However, the people could not understand the directions. The next time
he visited them, they had not touched the salt. So, he took the salt away from them and gave it to
the people of a place called Mayinit.
The people of Mayinit did as Lumawig directed. Because of their obedience, he told them that
they should always be owners of the salt and that the other peoples must buy of them.
Then Lumawig went to the people of Bontoc and told them to get clay and make pots. They got
the clay, but they did not understand the molding; the jars were not well shaped. Because of their
failure, Lumawig told them that they would always have to buy their jars, and he removed the pottery
to Samoki.
Lumawig told the people of Samoki what to do, and they did just as he said. Their jars were
well shaped and beautiful. Then Lumawig saw that they were fit owners of the pottery, and he told
them that they should always make many jars to sell.
In this way, Lumawig taught the people and brought to them all the things which they now have.
The Creation
(A Tagalog Myth)
When the world first began there was no land. There were only the sea and the sky, and
between them was a kite. One day the bird which had nowhere to light grew tired of flying about, so
she stirred up the sea until it threw its waters against the sky. The sky, in order to restrain the sea,
showered upon it many islands until it could no longer rise, but ran back and forth. Then the sky
ordered the kite to alight on one of the islands to build its nest, and to leave the sea and the sky in
peace. Now at this time the land breeze and the sea breeze were married, and they had a bamboo
as their child. One day when the bamboo was floating about on the water, it struck the feet of the kite
which was on the beach. The bird, angry that anything should strike it, pecked at the bamboo. Out
of one section came a man and from the other a woman.
The earthquake called on all the birds and fish to see what should be done with the man and
the woman, and it was decided that they should marry. Many children were born to the couple, and
from them came all the different races of people.
After a while the parents grew very tired of having so many idle and useless children around.
They wished to be rid of them, but they knew of no place to send them to. Time went on, and the
children became so numerous that the parents enjoyed no peace. One day, in desperation, the father
seized a stick and began beating them on all sides.
The beating frightened the children so much that they fled in different irections. Some seek
hidden rooms in the house. Some concealed themselves in the walls. Some ran outside, while others
hid in the fireplace. Several fled to the sea.
Now it happened that those who went into the hidden rooms of the house later became the
chiefs of the islands; and those who concealed themselves in the walls became slaves. Those who
ran outside were free men; and those who hid in the fireplace became negroes; while those who fled
to the sea were gone many years, and when their children came back they were the white people.
Ang diyos ng ating mga ninuno

(At Paninimula ng Unang Pulo)
Ang dakilang diyos ng ating mga ninuno ay nagtataglay ng iba’t-ibang grupo ng iba’t-ibang lugar
sa kapuluan.
Siya ay tinatawag na Bathala ng mga Tagalog, Laon sa mga Bisaya, Kabunian sa mga Ifugao,
Lumawig sa mga Bontoc at Kankanay, Kadaklan sa mga Tinguians, Malayari sa mga Zambal,
Maykapal sa Kapampangan, Tuluk Lawin sa matandang Sulod ng Panay, Tagbusan sa Manobo,
Mababaya sa Bukidnon, Melu sa Bilaan, Minadean sa Tiruray, Mamanwa sa Negrito ng Surigao at
Panulak Manabo sa Bagobo ng Mindanao.
Siya ang dahilan at pinagmulan. Siya ang simula bago ang lahat ay nilalang.
Ang Bathala o Maykapal ng mga ninuno ng Tagalog ay tumitira sa Bundok ng Arayat. Siya ang
gumawa ng dagat, langit, lupa, at lahat ng tumutubo sa lupa. Siya ang nagbibigay-buhay at tagapag-
ligtas sa buong daigdig.
Isang palasak na kuwento sa Luson, ang nagsabi na wala pang nilikha sa daigdig kundi ang
langit, dagat, at isang uwak na lilipad-lipad na naghahanap ng matutungtungan sa lawak ng
karagatan. Wala siyang makita kaya siya’y umisip ng paraan at pinaglaban ang dagat at langit.
Ininugan at ibinulwak ng dagat sa langit ang kanyang tubig. Bilang pagganti ang langit nama’y
naghulog ng mga bato at lupa sa tubig kaya’t napahinto ang alon at nagkaroon ng mga pulo na
mapapagpahingahan ng uwak.
Ayon naman sa Matandang Panay Bisaya, mayroon ding ibong tinatawag na Manaul na siyang
pinakamakapangyarihan sa kalangitan. Ayon sa alamat, pagod na pagod na sa pakikipaglaban sa
dagat ang langit kaya siya’y dumalangin sa ibon. Binungkal ni Manaul sa ilalim ng dagat ang kimpal-
kimpal na lupa at inihagis sa dagat. Ito ang kauna-unahang pulo.
Ang mga Ifugao ay naniniwala sa kanilang diyos na tinatawag na Kabunian na ayon sa kanila
ay nakatira sa ikalimang pinakamataas na lugar ng daigdig. Ang mga Igorot sa Benguet ay
naniniwala naman sa kanilang Apolaki. Ang mga ispiritu ng kadaklan. Ito ay lumalang sa unang mga
tao at nagturo sa kanila ng mga gawaing kamay.
Ang mga Bontoc at Kankanay sa Lalawigang Bulubundukin ay naniniwala kay Lumawig na
siyang pangunahing Diyos at siyang pinagmulan ng buhay, hari ng kamatayan at lumalang sa lahat
ng bagay sa mundo.
Ayon sa mga Bagobong Mindanao, ang Pamulak Manobo ay tumutira sa langit. Nang makita
niyang ang daigdig ay walang kalaman-laman siya ay lumalang ng sari-saring bagay upang ipalamuti
sa daigdig.
Ang makapangyarihang diyos ng Bukidnon ay si Mababaya na tumitira sa tahanang tulad din
ng sa kanyang mga sakop. May kapangyarihan at nasasakop niya ang ibang maliliit na diyos at
diyosa.
Puting Usa
Si Tingal ay tahimik na naghihintay sa kugunan. Ang gabi ay madilim. Walang kagalaw-galaw

ang mga dahon ng kahoy sa gubat. Ang maririnig paminsan-minsan ay huni ng mga ibon na
nagmumula sa malayo. Katulad ng ibang Dumagat, si Tingal ay kailangang mangaso upang
makahuli ng baboy-ramo, usa at matsing.
Natutulog noon si Bandina, ang kanyang maybahay at munting anak sa kanilang kubo.
Naalaala ni tingal kung bakit ang kanyang anak ay umiyak nang umagang iyon. Wala siyang makain
at gutom na gutom. Idilangin ni Tingal sa Bathala na siya’y palarin sa pangangaso.
Mga oras ang lumipas sa paghihintay subalit walang hayop na dumating hanggang sa hindina
niya mapaglabanan ang kanyang antok. Kumapal mandin ang talukap ng kanyang mga mata at
maya-maya pa’y napahiga sa lupa at nakatulog.
May lumagutok sa sanga ng kahoy kaya siya’y nagulantang sa nalikhang
ingay nito. Kanyang hinagilap agad ang kanyang pana at iniumang. Sa hindi kalayuan, sa
kalapit ng batis ay namataan siyang nanginginaing usa. Ang ipinagtataka niya ay kung bakit ito ay
puting-puti at naaninag niya na napakaganda ang kanyang mga sungay.
Ang gandang usa sumaisip ni Tingal. Masarap itong pagsaluhan ng aking mag-ina, at tuloy
natakam.
Kagyat na humarap ang usa sa pinagtataguan ni Tingal. Muntik nang bininit niya ang
panaupang tudlain ang nagulantang na usa.
Kaibigan, huwag mo akong tudlain, ang sabi ng tinig. Huwag mong patayin ang puting usa sa
gubat.
Nagtaka si Tingal. Siya’y nagpalinga-linga upang tiyakin kung sino ang nagsalita. Wala siyang
makita. Ang gubat ay tahimik. Hindi siya mapalagay dahil sa tinig. Kanyang pinag-igi ang hawak sa
pana upang humanda sa sinumang sasalakay.
Kaibigan, para mo nang awa, ang muling narinig. Wala akong salapi subalit bibigyan kita kahit
ano ang iyong hingin.
Nanluwang ang mga mata ni Tingal. Ang tinig ay nanggaling sa puting usa. Bakit…? Bakit…?
Siya’y natigagal.
Hindi maalis ni Tingal ang pagkapako ng kanyang mga mata sa puting usa. Tulad ng isang
nagpapalimos ang usa’y lumuhod at nagmakaawang iligtas
ang kanyang buhay.
Naalaala ni Tingal ang kanyang asawa’t anak sa kubo. Sila’y
nagugutom. Siya ang hinihintay. Hindi ko mapaniwalaan ito. Ako’y
pinaglalaruan yata ng tikbalang!
Itinaas ni Tingal ang kanyang pana. Kanya itong pinakawalan at presto, tinamaan ang dibdib
ng puting usa.
Wala kang habag. Wala kang puso! ang huling pahimakas ng usa. Nakalaan
para sa iyo ang paghihiganti ng diyosa ng kabundukan! at ang usa ay nalupasay sa lupa.
Itinali ni Tingal ang usa sa tulos ng kawayan at kanya itong pinasan. Ang kahambal-hambal na
huni sa may dako ng kakahuyan ay gumimbal sa kanyang kaluluwa. Sumikdo ang kanyang puso at
wari bang babalang masamang mangyayari. Marahang-marahang ibinaling niya ang kanyang mga
paa papunta sa kanilang munting kubo.
Masayang-masaya siyang sinalubong ng kanyang asawa’t anak. Si Bandina ay nagpuyos ng
mga siit at gumawa ng apoy. Ang anak nama’y tuwang-tuwa pagka’t ang magagandang sungay ng
usa ay ipinangako sa kanya upang gawin niyang laruan.
Nag-ihaw sila ng mga pirasong karne at ito’y pinasaluhan samantalang ikinukuwento ni Tingal
ang pagsusumamo ng usa bago ito kanyang pinana.
Hindi mapalagay si Bandina dahil sa mga huling katagang habilin ng usa ayon sa kuwento ni
Tingal, subalit ito’y ipinag-walang bahala ng lalaki dahil sa siya’y busog na busog. Nang sumunod
na araw, ang mangangaso’y naratay sa banig. Walang magawa ang incantations at wild herbs. Sa
buong tribo’y walang makagamot at makapagsabi kung ano ang sakit niya.
Isang gabing kalaliman at kadiliman ang lalaki’y tumayo at dinaanan siya ng sumpong. Ang
puting usa! ang sigaw. Kumarimot ng takbong palabas si Tingal sa hindi mapigilan. Siya’y hinabol
ng mag-ina hanggang sa kakahuyan at hanggang makarating sa lugar na kanyang pinaghulihan sa
usa. Lumuhod siya sa lupa at nanalangin, Bathala, patawarin mo ako! at siya’y napatdan ng hininga.
Ang hinala ni Bandina’y ang putting ay alaga ng diwata ng kagubatan.
Si Tingal ay inilibing ng mag-ina sa lugar na kinabuliran ng usa, pinabaunan ngasawa’t anak
ng masaganang luha.
Mula noon ang mga mangangasong Dumagat ay pumatay ng puting usa.
Tatlong Lalaking Luko-luko
May isang binatang nagmana ng sandaang ulo ng baka nang mamatay ang kanyang mga
magulang. Siya’y naging malungkutin kaya ninais niyang mag-asawa. Siya’y nagpatulong sa
kanyang mga kapitbahay sa paghanap ng makakasama habang buhay.
May kapitbahay na naghimatong sa kanya, May nakita akong dalagang kanais-nais para sa
iyo. Siya’y maganda, mahusay at matalino. Ang kanyang ama ay napakayaman at nagmamay-ari
ng anim na libong ulo ng hayop.
Ang lalaki ay natuwa nang marinig ang balita at nagtanong, Gaano ang ibabayad na dote?
Gusto ng ama’y isang daang baka, ang sagot.
Sandaang baka? Iyan lamang ang bilang ng aking mga hayop! Paano kami mabubuhay?
Tanong ng binata.
Pasyahan mo at sasabihin ko sa ama ang iyong kasagutan sa lalong madaling panahon, sabi
ng kapitbahay.
Nag-isip ang binata at nagsalita, Hindi ako maaaring mabuhay na wala siya. Siya’y aking
pakakasalan! Sabihin mo sa ama.
Sa madali’t sabi ang dalawa’y pinagtaling-puso. Sila’y namuhay nang sarili at dumating ang
pagkakataong sila’y naubusan ng pagkain kaya ang lalaki’y nagpastol ng hayop para sa kapitbahay
upang may maipag-agdong-buhay. Ang kanyang kinikita ay hindi sapat sa buhay-maharlika ng
asawa.
Isang araw, nang ang babae ay nakaupo sa labas ng tahanan, may isang di-kilalang dumating
na naganyak ng kanyang kagandahan. Siya’y nagpahayag ng kanyang paghanga at pag-ibig. Ang
sagot ng babae’y magbalik ang lalaki sa ibang araw.
Lumipas ang ilang buwan. Ang ama ng babae ay dumalaw sa anak. Ang babae ay napahiya
sapagkat walang pagkaing maialok sa ama. Nagkataong noon ding araw na iyon ay siya ring
pagdating ng lalaking nag-alok ng kanyang pag-ibig. Napa-oo ang babae sa lalaki kung ang huli ay
magbibigay ng karneng lulutuin para sa pagkain ng kanyang ama.
Nang magbalik ang mangingibig, siya’y may dalang ulam. Niluto ito ng babae. Siya namang
pagdating ng asawa. Ang tatlo’y nagsalo sa hapag samantalang ang lalaking mangingibig ay nasa
labas. Inanyayahan ng asawang lalaki ang estranhero na umupo at sumalo sa pagkain.
Nang ang lahat ay handa na sa mesa, nagsalita ang babae, Magsikain kayo, mga hangal! Pulos
kayong luko-luko!
Bakit ‘kamo kami’y luko-luko? ang sabay-sabay na usisa ng tatlo.
Ama, sagot ng anak, ikaw ay tanga sapagkat ipinagbili mo ang mahalaga upang makamtam
mo ang walang kahulugan. Ipinagbili mo ang iyong kaisa-isang anak sa halagang isang daang baka
gayong ikaw ay mayroon nang anim na libong ulo.
Tama ka, sang-ayon ng ama. talagang ako’y isang tanga.
At ikaw naman, aking asawa, ang patuloy, nagmana ka ng isang daang ulo ng hayop at ang
lahat ng mga ito ay ginugol mo para sa akin hanggang tayo’y walang makain. Maaaring magkaasawa
ka ng ibang babae sa halagang sampu o dalawampung baka lamang. Kaya ikaw ay torpe at loko rin!
At bakit pati ako? tanong ng estranghero.
ikaw ang pinakaloko sa lahat. Akala mo ay mapapalit mo ng kapirasong karne ang bagay na
binili ng sandaang baka.
Ang estranghero ay napahiya at noon di’y lumisan.
Bumaling ang ama sa anak, ikaw, aking anak ay matalino. Pagdating ko sa bahay, padadalhan
ko ang iyong asawa ng tatlong daang baka upang kayo’y mamuhay nang maginhawa.
Epic
The word epic is derived from the Ancient Greek adjective, “epikos”, which means a poetic story. In
literature, an epic is a long narrative poem, which is usually related to heroic deeds of a person of an
unusual courage and unparalleled bravery. In order to depict this bravery and courage, the epic uses
grandiose style.
The hero is usually the representative of the values of a certain culture, race, nation or a religious
group on whose victor of failure the destiny of the whole nation or group depends. Therefore, certain
supernatural forces, deus ex machina, help the hero, who comes out victor at the end. An epic usually
starts with an invocation to muse, but then picks up the threads of the story from the middle and
moves on to the end.
Difference Between an Epic and a Ballad. A ballad and an epic both are poems, which narrate
stories.
A ballad An Epic
• is shorter in length than an epic, • is composed to be sung on some
• folk ballads as well as popular ballads occasions, and not narrated.
• Most of the ballads have unknown origin • an epic poem tells a story, but about the
and source and usually pass on orally heroic ideals of a specific society
from generations to generations. • an epic demonstrates mastery in style
• a ballad is composed in a simple such as Paradise Lost
language
Examples of Epic from Literature
The Epic of Gilgamesh (~2000 BCE). Perhaps, the Epic of Gilgamesh is the first example of an
epic. It tells the story of the life of an Assyrian king, Gilgamesh. Like all other epics, the narrative of
this epic revolves around the themes related to gods, human beings, mortality, legacy and seduction.
Like other epics, it is also composed in a grand style. Gilgamesh is a young arrogant king due to his
being half-god and half-human. His strength and masculine beauty becomes a constant source of
trouble for others. Therefore, gods grow sick of Gilgamesh’s arrogant and troublesome attitude and
decide to teach him a lesson. He is made to fight his antagonist, Enkidu, and then go on a long
journey to bring the plant of life — a journey on which he learns the lessons of life. Although the epic
is written nearly 4,000 years ago, critics are unanimous that it is a human work.
The Iliad (800 BCE). Iliad is another example of an epic. It was written by the popular Greek poet,
Homer. It relates the story of the Trojan wars, involving themes of courage, boldness, love for one’s
country and nostalgia of family. However, it describes many legends related to the siege of Troy, the
events took place before the siege, the gathering of the warriors prior to the siege and the causes of
the war. Later, the epic foretold the looming death of Achilles and the destruction of Troy. The style
of narration is grand, and suits an epic poem — the reason that it is still one the most celebrated
work of antiquity.
Paradise Lost (1667). Written on the same traditions but on a different subject, Paradise Lost, is
an English epic by yet another blind poet of English origin, John Milton. It also is known colloquially
as the Protestant Epic. In this epic, Milton argues Satan’s fall from the heaven as well as Adam and
Eve’s fall from the Garden of Eden. Despite his blindness, Milton did not stop from explaining “the
ways of God to men.” He has depicted Satan as a highly complex character, who is at war with God.
Despite his different subject, Milton has used several epic devices introduced by Homer such as
invocation to the muse, extended similes and grand style.
Function of Epic. As the epic poem is the earliest form of poetry, it is the earliest form of
entertainment as well. Epics were written to commemorate the struggles and adventures of kings
and warriors. The main function of epic poetry was to elevate the status of the hero among the
audiences to inspire them to be ready to perform heroic actions. Epic obtained most of its themes
from the exploits performed by legendary characters and their illustrious ancestors. That is why these
exploits became examples for others to follow, and still lived in books. It is through epics, models of
ideal heroic behavior were supplied to the common people. Moreover, epics also were collections of
historical events not recorded in common history books — the reason that they are read today to be
enjoyed and be informed regarding the past.
An epic is a long poem or other work of art celebrating heroic feats. After you sail around the world
for seven years, fighting corruption and planting vegetable gardens, some poet will surely write the
epicof your adventures.
Epic comes from the Greek for song, because Greek poets like Homer sung their poems. We tend
to use epic for long, ambitious novels or movies, especially if they involve a long journey. Epic can
be used as an adjective to describe something historically important, lasting and complex. Perhaps
your great-grandfather was a soldier in the epic struggle of World War One. Your three day, sleepless
card poker game could be described as epic.
The Philippine epics are sung or chanted in episodes. They feature supernatural characters and
reflect the society where they originated. Also, there are different versions of a story.
Biag ni Lam-ang. This Ilocano epic tells the adventures of Lam-ang, a man with supernatural
powers. He goes to war at nine-months-old and seeks the killers of his father. He embarks on a
quest with his animal friends and meets his future wife, Innes Kanoyan. He is swallowed by a fish
and resurrected from death by his animal friends.
Hinilawod. This epic is of the Sulod, a group of people living in the mountains of central Panay. It
tells the story of three very strong men, namely, Labaw Donggon, Humadapnon, and Dumalapdap.
They are the sons of Datu Paubari, the ruler of Halawod, and the goddess Alunsina. The exploits of
each son concerns beautiful women that he wants to have as a wife.
Darangan. This Maranao epic depicts the adventures of a brave warrior named Bantugan. He
owns a magical sword protected by a spirit. After a battle, he rests and accidentally falls into the
water. A crocodile finds him and brings him to the enemies. He fights, regains his strength, and
wins the war.
Bidasari
(Mindanao Epic Story)
When a simple merchant, his young son and mute servant are out in the woods, they chance
upon a drifting boat, in which there is a baby girl and a bowl containing a live goldfish. The merchant
realises that the baby is unusual because her life is bonded to the fish: if the fish leaves the water,
she stops breathing. The merchant adopts the baby as his own and names her Bidasari. Years later
Bidasari grows up into a beautiful young woman while the merchant has prospered into a wealthy
businessman.
At the royal palace of this kingdom, the King has just remarried a beautiful woman, the
Permaisuri (Queen). The Permaisuri is a proud woman who secretly practises witchcraft. Hidden in
her chambers is a magic mirror that can show her anything she asks. She uses it to ask who the
most beautiful in all the land is. One day when she asks the mirror this question, the image of Bidasari
appears in it. She is enraged by this and carries out a search to find who Bidasari is.
Her search leads her to the merchant's house. Under the guise of kindness, the Permaisuri
asks the merchant for permission to bring Bidasari to the palace to be her companion. Although the
merchant is reluctant to part with his beloved daughter, he lets her go. But once Bidasari arrives at
the palace, she is sent to the kitchens as a servant, where she is starved and given the dirtiest jobs.
After the Permaisuri is satisfied that Bidasari has been ruined, she once again asks her magic
mirror who is the most beautiful in the land. When the mirror shows Bidasari yet again, the Permaisuri
flies into a rage and runs to the kitchen where she grabs burning pieces of firewood which she tries
to burn Bidasari's face with. She is shocked when the fire goes out and Bidasari's face is left
untouched. Bidasari, who has by now realised that the Permaisuri's malice is targeted only at her
and will never stop, begs for mercy and explains her life is bonded to that of a fish that is kept in a
bowl in her father's garden.
The Permaisuri has a servant steal the fish for her from the merchant's garden, and as soon as
the fish leaves the water, Bidasari collapses and stops breathing. Satisfied that Bidasari's life is in
her hands, the Permaisuri hangs the fish around her neck as a trophy. When she asks the mirror
who is the most beautiful in the land, the mirror shows her own image.
The merchant realises that the fish is missing, and is told that Bidasari died mysteriously at the
palace. Her body is returned to him and he builds a small tomb for her in the woods where her body
is laid out in peace.
Meanwhile, the Permaisuri's stepson the Prince has been having dreams about Bidasari,
although he has never met her. The dreams plague him even in his waking hours, despite his father's
advice that such a beautiful woman cannot exist. The Permaisuri sees her stepson acting this way
and plants a painting of Bidasari in his room. The Prince finds the painting, which leads him to the
merchant who explains the sad tale of Bidasari's death and the mysterious disappearance of the fish.
The Prince decides to visit Bidasari's tomb to see her beauty with his own eyes. Coincidentally
at this time, back at the palace the Permaisuri is having a bath in the royal bathing pool. The fish
manages to break free of its locket and drops into the water where it starts swimming. This causes
Bidasari to wake up right before the Prince's eyes. Bidasari tells him of what the Permaisuri did to
her, which confirms the Prince's suspicions of his stepmother.
When the Permaisuri finishes her bath, she discovers that the fish has gotten free. She
manages to catch it just as the Prince is about to help Bidasari leave the tomb, causing her to fall
unconscious again. The Prince places Bidasari back in the tomb and promises to make things right.
The Prince returns to the palace in a fury, demanding that the Permaisuri give him the fish. The
Permaisuri pretends not to know anything, and when the King listens to the Prince's explanation, the
King declares that his son has gone insane and calls the royal guards. A fight ensues, during which
the Permaisuri is injured and dies.
Just before the Prince is about to be captured, the merchant and the Prince's loyal manservants
arrive with Bidasari on a stretcher. The merchant explains that the story about the fish being bonded
to Bidasari's life is true. The Prince takes the fish from the locket around the Permaisuri's neck and
puts it into a bowl of water. As soon as the fish enters the water, Bidasari comes back to life. The
King apologises to his son, and the Prince and Bidasari are married.
Agyu : The Ilianon Epic of

Mindanao (of the Manobos of North Cotabato)
Episode 1: The killing of the Moro Datu. In the country of Ayuman lived the heroes Banlak, Agyu,
and Kuyasu. In the Ilianon tradition these men were brothers, being the sons of Pamulaw. Agyu had
four sisters, but only Yanbungan and Ikawangan are mentioned in the epic. Banlak's wife named
Mungan was badly afflicted with a consuming disease.
One of the activities that the Ilianon people engaged in was the gathering of beeswaxwhich they
traded with the Moro, securing from the latter articles and goods that they needed in their daily lives.
Although these goods and articles are not mentioned in the epic, they have been identified as cloth,
blankets, bolos (especially "tabas" which are used in weeding), betel nut and lime containers, salt,
and coconut oil, these things being paid for with beeswax and honey. One day Agyu sent nine "kamu"
or lumps of beeswax to a Moro datu, delivered by Kuyasu and Banlak. Angered by the small quantity
of the payment, the Moro datu hurled the beeswax at Kuyasu, hurting the latter's foot, which had an
ulcer. Kuyasu retaliated by spearing the Moro datu to death. He must have been left behind, for it
was Banlak who hurried to Ayuman to inform Agyu and the others that Kuyasu had slain the Moro
datu.
Episode 2: The battle with the Moros. Agyu predicted that there was going to be a war. Inasmuch
as the Moro datu had been killed, it was better for them to leave their homeland. They went to Ilian
mountain where Agyu ordered the building of a fort on its top. Agyu asked his followers to gather big
stones and to cut logs. Then they built houses and shelters and lived peacefully there. But soon the
Moro warriors came up the Pulangi River and spotted the fort built by the Ilianon. When the Moro
invaders tried to scale the mountain, Agyu ordered the cutting of the rattan that held the logs and
loosening them on the attackers. The result was almost decimation of the enemy. Those who
escaped the slaughter fled.
Episode 3: Agyu leads his people to another country. After this victory, Agyu decided to move
to another country. He chose to go to Pinamatun mountain. They built houses and habitations there
once more. He left for Sandawa mountain to hunt. Lono' tried to cut a path on the side of the
mountain, while two women, Yambungan ang Ikwangan, were left behind swinging on a vine from
bank to bank over the stream. Something was stinging their feet and they shouted for Lono' to come.
Lono' found it was a bee and this enabled him to locate beehives in the hollows of palm trees. Then
Agyu came back with a small wild pig. He asked Banlak to singe it, after which the animal was
divided, and the meat and honey were distributed among the people.
Then Agyu remembered Banlak's wife in Ayuman; she had been left behind because of her afflicton.
But Banlak refused to bring her share of the meat and honey, for he had abandoned her. It was Lono'
who volunteered to bring Mungan her share. When he reached Ayuman, he found out that Mungan
was already well. She gave Lono' betel nut and young rice to distribute to the people. Lono' returned
to Pinamatun and told Agyu and the others the news that Mungan had already recovered and had
become a beautiful lady. When Banlak heard that, he wanted to return to his wife but Agyu reproved
him. Then the betel nut and "pinipi" young rice were distributed.
Episode 4: Agyu and his people return to Ayuman. Because of Mungan's recovery, Agyu decided
to return to Ayuman, and this was done with his people following him. But when they arrived at
Ayuman, they found Mungan gone. Agyu then decided to continue their journey further on until they
reached the mouth of Tigyandang, at the junction of Mudan'udan. They built houses and settled
there.
Episode 5: The invasion of Agyu's country and the prowess of Agyu's youngest son. In this
country of Tigyandang, Agyu's people were attacked. Agyu's men fought on the seashore of the bay
of Linayagon, but it was a losing battle. When only a few men were left, Agyu's youngest son, a mere
boy, volunteered to fight the enemy single-handed. In four days he defeated them. The leader of the
invaders invited Agyu's young son to go home with him but the boy refused. When the leader reached
home, however, he found the boy already there. The datu told his wife to call their daughter and for
her to dress up. The datu told her to give chew to Tanagyaw, Agyu's son, and to consider him her
husband. Buy'anon invited him to sit on her lap, but Agyu's son refused, saying he was a mere boy.
Then he departed.
Episode 6: Agyu's son saves the country of Baklayon from invaders and gets another
marriage proposal; this time the maiden is persistent, accompanies him to his home and finally
succeeds in marrying him Tanagyaw reached the country of Baklayon. There was consternation in
the place. He learned that the village was going to be attacked by invaders. He was well received
and was offered the young daughter of the datu in marriage. She came out and offered him chew
and asked him to be her husband, saying he was going to be their savior. He fought the invaders
and defeated them. The datu had a son named Bagsili' who challenged him, but was killed in a man-
to-man combat. The defeated datu took his leave and departed.
Tanagyaw told the people to shout the cry of victory. He went up the house and squatted. Paniguan,
the datu's daughter, proposed marriage to him for saving their country, but Tanagyaw said that he
would help them even if they did not get married. Then he said that he was going home. He departed,
but the girl accompanied him home. Agyu was surprised to see his son accompanied by a young
lady. He asked the maiden who she was; she identified herself but insisted on marrying Tanagyaw.
So the two were married.
Episode 7: Agyu's country is invaded but Tanagyaw successfully repulses the invaders;
Tanagyaw settles in Sunglawon with his wife After some time, Agyu's country is again endangered
by invaders coming from across the sea. The men fought well but were overwhelmed. A counselor
foretold doom. But Tanagyaw reproved him. He put on his attire that was ten times thick and of nine
layers, and picked up his shield and spear which could not be broken. Then he fought the invaders
on the seashore. The dead piles up, mountains and hills of them. The leader of the invaders invited
Tanagyaw to his country. But Tanagyaw said that the leader had been shamed. Upon hearing this,
the leader's son fought him, using a bar of gold. Tanagyaw in turn used his golden cane called
Tanigid and with it reduced the challenger to a pounded mass. The leader returned defeated to his
homeland.
When peace had been restored, Agyu assigned the country of Sunglawon to his victorious son who
settled there with his charming wife.
Summary. The precolonial literature of the Philippines includes all literature produced before the
Spanish colonization. It includes chants, proverbs, songs, spells, and different folk narratives like folk
tales, fables, legends, myths, and epics that were all passed down from generation to generation
through the word of mouth.
Test. MULTIPLE CHOICE. Write the word of the correct answer.
1) It is a body of work, either written, oral, or visual, containing imaginative language that realistically
portrays thought, emotions, and experiences of the human condition.
• Pre-colonial Literature ● Philippine Literature
• LiteratureWorld Literature
2) The period of time before colonization of a region or territory .
• Colonial ● Pre-Colonial
• Pre-history ● Post-Colonial
3) Identify the two classifications of folk literature:
• Local and Global ● Dynamic and Static
• Flat and Round ● Floating and Oral
4) Identify the two classifications of folk literature:
• Local and Global ● Dynamic and Static
• Flat and Round ● Floating and Oral
5) Which of the following is true about Philippine pre-colonial texts?
• most of the pre-colonial dramas were held in the sambahan or places of worship
• they revolve around the illiteracy of early Filipinos
• only the concept of death is used as a subject for narratives
• all of the above
6) It is a rhythmical type of literary composition that usually serves to excite the readers.
• Poetry
• Prose
7) Which of the following is a theme of pre-colonial texts?
• Karma ● Reincarnation
• Ideals ● War
8) It is the ordinary form of spoken or written language, without metrical structure
• Poetry
• Prose
9) It is a war song which evolved into a love song.
• Uyayi ● Talindaw
• Hele ● Kumintang
10) It is a song of revelry
• Epiko ● Uyayi
• Diyuna ● Sabi
11) These are sacred narrative explaining how the world and man came to be in their present form.
• Legends ● Myths
• Epics ● Fables
12) These are myths that seek to explain natural phenomenon like rainbows, thunder and lightning.
• Early concept of the universe ● The Sun, Moon and Stars
• Establishment of ● Natural Order
• Acquisition of Culture
13) These are myths that tell us about how god perceived to have communicated with man.
• Origin of Fire ● Relationship between Gods and Men
• The Gods and the ● Creation of the World
• All of the Above
14) The myth “Formation of the Tribes” of the Karay tribe is an example of myth under
• Early Conceptions of the Universe ● The Sun, Moon and Stars
• Acquisition of Culture/Origin ● Origin of Man
15) The myth “TheWrath of Kaptan” from the Visayas is an example of a myth under
• Origin of Water Features ● Origin of Land Features
• Origin of Animals ● The Great Flood
16) It is a body of written works which originated from oral traditions.
• Literary Text ● Oral Literature
• Folk Tales ● Literature
17) In this period, the sources of literature are usually the local native town folk.
• Japanese Period ● Spanish Period
• American Period ● Pre-Colonial Period
18) It is lengthy narrative that has the role of heroes and damsel in distress.
• Fable ● Legend
• Myth ● Epic
19) It discusses occurrence on the earth and how things on earth were created.
20) It is the story of mortals who has supernatural powers.
• Legend ● Myth
• Fable ● Epic
21) The year when Alejandro Roces received an award as National Artist of the Philippines for Literature.
• 1976 ● 1997
• 2014 ● 2003
22) The year when Nick Joaquin received an award as National Artist of the Philippines for Literature.
• 1997 ● 2014
• 1976 ● 2003
23) The year when Cirilio Bautista received an award as National Artist of the Philippines for Literature.
• 1976 ● 2014
• 2003 ● 1997
24) This story discusses discrimination and racism during American period.
• The Bamboo Dancers ● The God Stealer
• Oh How to Find Silence in the World ● Summer Sosltice
25) This is the title of the literary piece of Nick Joaquin that sent him to Hong Kong to be a scholar.
• The Sorrow of Vaudeville ● La Naval De Manila
• Summer Solstice ● Tribune
26) This is another term for short short story.
• Chick Lit ● Graphic Novel
• Flash Fiction ● Blog
27) This is a regularly updated online journal.
• Blog ● Chick Lit
• Flash Fiction ● Graphic Novel
28) The theme of the genre encompasses horror, drama and science fiction works.
• Blog ● Speculative Fiction
• Graphic Novel ● Chick Lit
29) It utilizes picture in narrating a long story.
• Graphic Novel ● Speculative Fiction
30) It is a literary piece that is written by women for women; plot is lighthearted, smart and funny.
• Speculative Fiction ● Graphic Novel
31) This author is a college professor in University of Naga who has written the poem “Sidok”.
• Alice Munro ● Rolando Tolentino
• Estelito Jacob ● Junot Diaz
32) This is a Canadian writer and wrote the short story “Voices”.
• Estelito Jacob ● Alice Munro
• Laurel Fantauzzo ● Junot Diaz
33) This is the author of “Under My Invisible Umbrella”.
• Cirilio Bautista ● Laurel Fantauzzo
• Alice Munro ● F. Sionil Jose
34) This author is a college instructor in University of the Philippines Film Institute who has written “Sakit ng
Kalingkingan”.
• Rolando Tolentino ● Estelito Jacob
• Junot Diaz ● Jose Garcia Villa
35) This is a Dominican-American writer and author of “Apocalypse”.
• Estelito Jacob ● Cirilio Bautista
• Junot Diaz ● Rolando Tolentino
TRUE / FALSE. Write TRUE if the statement is correct and write FALSE if the statement is false.
1) The pre-colonial period was characterized by shared lifestyle, values and belief system.
2) Women were regarded highly during the pre-colonial period
3) Trading among neighbors was limited to the Southeast Asian region during this period.
4) The sultanate government adhered to Islamic practices and traditions during the pre-colonial period.
5) The Philippines was already a single political unit during the pre-colonial period.
6) The trial by ordeal as a judicial system was a test of faith of the accused instead of evidence.
7) A monarchical system of government was already established before the arrival of the Western
colonizers.
8) Our limited knowledge of our pre-colonial past was due to the absence of a system of writing.
9) The timawa was the lowest social class during the pre-colonial period.
10) Gold artifacts dating to 10th century AD strengthens our claim that we had a rich and sophisticated
culture.
11) The “putong” is a pre-colonial ornament which may signify that the wearer has killed someone.
12) The early Filipinos live in scattered barangay governed by a chieftain which they call rajah or datu.
13) Philippine myths show that ancient Filipinos believed in one supreme god and in a number of lesser
gods and goddesses
Lesson 2
THE SPANISH COLONIAL PERIOD
The Spanish colonization of the Philippines started in 1565, during the time of Miguel Lopez de
Legazpi.
Change in the life of the Filipino:

1) embraced the Catholic religion,
2) changed their names and were baptized,
3) transportation / means of travel (carriages and boats),
4) housing (stone and brick houses)
Spanish Influences on Philippines Literature.

1. The first Filipino alphabet called ALIBATA was replaced by the Roman alpabet.
2. The teaching of the Christian Doctrine became the basis of religious practices.
Examples.
• Novena,
• Rosary,
• Prayer every 6 o’clock.
3. Spanish language which became the literary language during this time lent many of its words to
our language.
Examples:
• Cebollas,
• cuarto,
4. Many grammar books were printed in Filipino, like Tagalog, Ilocano and Visayan
5. European legends and traditions brought here became assimilated in our songs, corridos, and
moro-moros
6. Ancient literature was collected and translated to Taglog and other dialects. Until the 19th century,
the printing presses that published literary works were owned and managed by the religious orders.
Thus religious themes dominated the literature of the time.
The existing literature of the Philippine ethnic groups at the time of conquest and conversion into
Christianity was mainly oral, consisting of;
• epics,
• legends,
• songs,
• riddles,
• proverbs.
The conquistador, especially its ecclesiastical arm, destroyed whatever written literature he could
find, and hence rendered the system of writing inoperable. Among the only native systems of
writing that have survived are the syllabaries of;
• the Mindoro Mangyans
• the Tagbanua of Palawan.
The Spanish colonial strategy was to undermine the native oral tradition by substituting for it the
story of the Passion of Christ. Although Christ was by no means war-like or sexually attractive as
many of the heroes of the oral epic tradition, the appeal of the Jesus myth inhered in the protagonist’s
superior magic: by promising eternal life for everyone, he democratized the power to rise above
death. It is to be emphasized, however, that the native tradition survived and even flourished in areas
inaccessible to the colonial power. Moreover, the tardiness and the lack of assiduity of the colonial
administration in making a public educational system work meant the survival of oral tradition, or
what was left of it, among the conquered tribes.
The church authorities adopted a policy of spreading the Church doctrines by communicating to the
native in his own language.
1593. Doctrina Christiana the first book to be printed in the Philippines, was a prayer book written in
Spanish with an accompanying Tagalog translation. It was, however, for the exclusive use of the
missionaries who invariably read them aloud to the unlettered Indio catechumens, who were to rely
mainly on their memory. But the task of translating religious instructional materials obliged the
Spanish missionaries to take a most practical step, that of employing native speakers as translators.
Eventually, the native translator learned to read and write both in Spanish and his native language.
This development marked the beginning of Indio literacy and thus spurred the creation of the first
written literary native text by the native.
17th Century. Devotional poetry where published. Among the earliest writers of note were Francisco
de San Jose and Francisco Bagongbata. But by far the most gifted of these native poet-translators
was Gaspar Aquino de Belen.
1704. Mahal Na Pasion ni Jesu Christo, a Tagalog poem based on Christ’s passion, was published.
This long poem, original and folksy in its rendition of a humanized, indeed, a nativized Jesus, is a
milestone in the history of Philippine letters. Ironically — and perhaps just because of its profound
influence on the popular imagination — as artifact it marks the beginning of the end of the old
mythological culture and a conversion to the new paradigm introduced by the colonial power.
Printing presses were owned and managed by the religious orders. Thus, religious themes
dominated the culture of the Christianized majority. But the native oral literature, whether secular or
mythico-religious continued. Even among the Christianized ethnic groups, the oral tradition persisted
in such forms as legends, sayings, wedding songs such as the balayan and parlor theater such as
the duplo.
18th century, secular literature from Spain in the form of medieval ballads inspired the native poetic-
drama form called the komedya, later to be called moro-moro because these often dealt with the
theme of Christians triumphing over Moslems.
Jose de la Cruz (1746 – 1829) was the foremost exponent of the komedya during his
time. A poet of prodigious output and urbane style, de la Cruz marks a turning point in that his
elevated diction distinguishes his work from folk idiom. Yet his appeal to the non-literate was
universal. The popularity of the dramatic form, of which he was a master, was due to it being
experienced as performance both by the lettered minority and the illiterate but genuinely appreciative
majority.
Francisco Baltazar (1788 – 1862), popularly called Balagtas, is the acknowledged

master of traditional Tagalog poetry. Of peasant origins, he left his hometown in Bigaa, Bulacan for
Manila, with a strong determination to improve his lot through education. To support his studies, he
worked as a domestic servant in Tondo. He steeped himself in classical studies in schools of prestige
in the capital.
Great social and political changes in the world worked together to make Balagtas’ career as poet
possible. The industrial revolution had caused a great movement of commerce in the globe, creating
wealth and the opportunity for material improvement in the life of the working classes. With these
great material changes, social values were transformed, allowing greater social mobility. In short, he
was a child of the global bourgeois revolution. Liberal ideas, in time, broke class — and, in the
Philippines — even racial barriers. The word Filipino, which used to refer to a restricted group
expanded to include not only the acculturated wealthy Chinese mestizo but also the acculturated
Indio. Balagtas was one of the first Indios to become a Filipino.
But the crucial element in Balagtas’ unique genius is that, being caught between two cultures, he
could switch codes, provide insight and information to his oppressed compatriots in the very style
and guise of a tradition provided him by a foreign culture. His narrative poem Florante at Laura written
in sublime Tagalog, is about tyranny in Albanya, but it is also perceived to be about tyranny in his
Filipino homeland.
Despite the foreign influence, however, he remained true to his native traditions. His verse plays
were performed to the motley crowd. His poems were sung by the literate for the benefit of the
unlettered. The metrical regularity and rhyme performed their age-old mnemonic function, despite
and because of the introduction of printing.
Printing overtook tradition. The printed page, by itself, became the mnemonic device, the stage
set for the development of prose. The first Filipino novel was Ninay, written in Spanish by Pedro
Paterno, a Philippine-born ilustrado. Following the sentimental style of his first book Sampaguitas (a
collection of poems in Spanish), the novel endeavored to highlight the endearingly unique qualities
of Filipinos.
National Hero Jose Rizal (1861 – 1896) chose the realistic novel as his medium.
Choosing Spanish over Tagalog meant challenging the oppressors on the latter’s own turf. By writing
in prose, Rizal also cut his ties with the Balagtas tradition of the figurative indirection which veiled
the supposed subversiveness of many writings at that time.
Rizal’s two novels, the Noli Me Tangere and its sequel El Filibusterismo, chronicle the life and
ultimate death of Ibarra, a Filipino educated abroad, who attempts to reform his country through
education. At the conclusion of the Noli, his efforts end in near-death and exile from his country. In
the Filibusterismo, he returns after reinventing himself as Simoun, the wealthy jeweler, and hastens
social decay by further corrupting the social fabric till the oppressed react violently to overthrow the
system. But the insurrection is foiled and Simoun suffers a violent death.
Rizal’s novels and patriotic poems were the inevitable conclusion to the campaign for liberal reforms
known as the Propaganda Movement, waged by Graciano Lopez Jaena, and M.H. del Pilar. The two
novels so vividly portrayed corruption and oppression that despite the lack of any clear advocacy,
they served to instill the conviction that there could be no solution to the social ills but a violent one.
Andres Bonifacio (1863 – 1897). His closest aide, the college-bred Emilio Jacinto (1875 – 1899),
was the revolutionary organization’s ideologue. Both were admirers of Rizal, and like Rizal, both
were writers and social critics profoundly influenced by the liberal ideas of the French enlightenment,
about human dignity. Bonifacio’s most important work are his poems, the most well-known being
Pag-Ibig Sa Tinubuang Lupa. Jacinto wrote political essays expressed in the language of the folk.
Significantly, although either writer could have written in Spanish both chose to communicate to their
fellowmen in their own native language.
The figure of Rizal dominates Philippine literature until the present day. Liberalism led to education
of the native and the ascendancy of Spanish. But Spanish was undermined by the very ideas of
liberation that it helped spread, and its decline led to nativism and a renaissance of literature in the
native languages.
The turn of the century witnessed not only the Philippine revolution but a quieter though no less
significant outbreak. The educated women of the period produced significant poetry. Gregoria de
Jesus, wife of Andres Bonifacio, wrote notable Tagalog poetry. Meanwhile, in Vigan of the Ilocano
North, Leona Florentino, by her poetry, became the foremost Ilocano writer of her time.
Notes on the Spanish Colonial Period (1521–1898)

• Expeditions to the Philippines were sent by Spain in the 16th century. In their conquest, the
Spaniards brought Christianity with them. The clergy made a great impact on faith, education,
and government.
• 1565–1815. The Manila-Acapulco trade, liberal ideas entered the country. Also, the trade
gave rise to a wealthier middle class. Children in middle class families could then be sent to
Europe to get an education. Upon their return, they brought European ideals of liberty and
freedom with them. Such ideals would then give rise to Filipino nationalism. Philippine
Literature during the Spanish Occupation
Events:
• The Spanish missionaries taught the gospel through the native language, so they hired natives
to translate Spanish religious instructional materials. Eventually, the natives became fluent in
Spanish and became known as ladinos.
• Ladinos mainly wrote devotional poetry. Two of them were Fernando Bagongbanta and
Gaspar Aquino de Belen.
• 1605. Bagongbanta wrote “Salamat nang walang hanga/gracias de sin sempiternas,” which
appeared in Memorial de la vida cristiana en lengua tagala a book containing basic Catholic
doctrines.
• 1704. de Belen wrote “Ang Mahal na Passion ni Jesu Christong Panginoon natin na tola” the
earliest version of pasyon.
• 1746-1829. the native drama called the komedya or moro-moro was popular. It depicted the
war between Christians and Muslims, wherein the former always wins. The poet Jose de la
Cruz was a master of such art form.
• Native literature continued. Though the Spaniards destroyed the written literature in their effort
to replace it with their own, the oral tradition survived and flourished in areas beyond the reach
of the Spaniards.
• 1788-1862. Francisco Baltazar the master of traditional Tagalog poetry,
• 1838-1861. Florante at Laura the most famous metrical romance of the country.
• 1857-1911. Pedro Paterno wrote Sampaguitas y poesias varias (1880),
• 1880, Sampaguitas y poesias varias was the first poetry collection in Spanish by a Filipino;
• 1885. The novel in Spanish Ninay considered to be the first Filipino novel.
• 1861–1896. Jose Rizal a prominent ilustrado and the country’s national hero, is famous for
the novels Noli Me Tangere and El Filibusterismo. These novels portray the corruption and
abuse of the Spanish officials and the clergy.
• 1863–1897. Andres Bonifacio the founder of the Katipunan, wrote the poem “Pag-ibig sa
Tinubuang Lupa.”
• March 1896. “Pag-ibig sa Tinubuang Lupa.” appeared in the Kalayaan, the official newspaper
of the Katipunan
• 1849–1884. Leona Florentino known as the “mother of Philippine women’s literature,” was a
poet in both Ilocano and Spanish. Twenty of her poems were preserved and exhibited in
Europe.
• 1889. The poems were included in the Encyclopedia International des Oeuvres des Femme.
LITERATURE IN SPANISH. Philippine literature in Spanish includes all the poems, stories, novels,
and essays written by Filipinos in the Spanish language. This literature began as a tool in the religious
and political conquest of the Philippines in the 16th century, but eventually blossomed into a literature
of protest against the Spanish colonizers from 1885 to 1896 and later the American rulers, from 1899
to the 1930s.
Poetry. The earliest known samples of Philippine poetry in Spanish appeared in the first decade of
the 17th century, less than 40 years after the introduction of Spanish culture in the islands, apparently
under the guidance of the Dominican priest Francisco Blancas de San Jose.
Poetry written by Francisco Blancas de San Jose: His religious books featured the verses of his
printers,
• the Chinese immigrant Juan de Vera,
• the Bulaqueño Fernando Bagongbanta.
• 1602 “Gracias a los castellanos” tells of his coming to Manila in search of food and peace and
his conversion to Christianity.
Other Chinese versifiers in Binondo where their verses centered on two themes: The Catholic religion
and Hispanidad were;
• 1606. Jose Ma. Nicaisay, who wrote “Manila preciosisima” (Most Precious Manila)
• 1613. Tomas Chui Dian, who wrote “Corre en mis venas sangre celestial” (Heavenly Blood
Runs in My Veins), ,
• 1614. Carlos Calao, who wrote “Que Dios le perdone” (May God Forgive Him)
Ladino or bilingual poets also published their interlinear verses in Tagalog and Spanish with
religious and hispanidad themes. These themes would recur through the centuries in Philippine
poetry in Spanish. Ladino poetry persisted for almost a century, if not longer.
1604. Bagongbanta’s bilingual verses, published celebrate Spain’s material and spiritual
contributions to the islands—the Catholic religion, corn, tomatoes, wheat, and potatoes.
1610. Tomas Pinpin published his Spanish grammar for the use of the Tagalog. In one of his poems,
he espoused national unity by exhorting the different Philippine tribes to embrace the Cross, learn
Spanish, and be loyal to the king. He, like Bagongbanta, also composed ladino poems. Other ladino
poems were published by;
• 1638. Pedro Suarez Ossorio
• 1638. Pedro Bukaneg
• 1704. Gaspar Aquino de Belen
• 1708. Felipe de Jesus
• Francisco Baltazar our greatest ladino poet as evidenced by his composition “Paalam Na Sa
Iyo”, a poem of superb and delicate quality.
In the 19th century, a call for reforms was made by creole and mestizo writers;
• Luis Rodriguez Varela,
• Pedro Pelaez,
• Juan de Atayde,
• Jose A. Burgos.
Creole poetry’s earliest expression is
1813. El parnaso filipino a collection of Luis Varela’s poems. Its fame lies less on its literary quality
than on its political statement: the need for unity among the peninsulars, creoles, mestizos, and
indios who comprised the Filipino nation.
1879, the Liceo Artistico-Literario sponsored a literary contest open to all peninsular, creole, and
native writers. The winners in the poetry division were the peninsulares
• Eusebio A. Escobar
• Gualterino Marino Seco,
• Jose Juan de Icaza,
• Mariano Romasanta
• Jose Rizal. Rizal’s winning piece was “ A la juventud filipina ” (To the Filipino Youth).
Second to Rizal as literary figures were;

• Graciano Lopez Jaena,
• Marcelo H. del Pilar,
• Pedro A. Paterno,
• Antonio Luna.
• Mariano Ponce,
• Antonio Ma. Regidor,
• Isabelo de los Reyes,
• Gregorio Sancianco,
• Jose Ma. Panganiban,
• Eduardo Lete.
In 1880 Luis Arnedo published Pedro Paterno’s Sampaguitas y varias poesias (Sampaguitas and
Other Poems), which was to be the first volume of a project, Biblioteca Filipina, which was never
realized. From Rizal’s maturing pen came gems like;
• 1882. Me piden versos” (They Asked Me for Verses)
• 1886. A las flores de Heidelberg ” (To the Flowers of Heidelberg)
• 1887. El canto de Maria Clara” (The Song of Maria Clara)
• 1895. Rizal’s poetry would blossom in with his “Mi retiro” (My Retreat), considered as one of
his best works.
• 1895. It was also in that Fernando Ma. Guerrero published “Borja ante el cadaver de la
emperatriz Isabel” (Borja Before the Corpse of Empress Isabel) Cecilio Apostol published “El
terror de los mares indicos” (The Terror of the Indian Seas).
First poems of a tradition inspired by Rizal’s martyerdom and works.
• 1896 Rizal wrote his valedictory poem, “Mi ultimo adios ” (My Last Farewell), which has been
translated into many languages.
• 1897 Emilio Jacinto’s “ A la patria ” (To the Native Land)
• 1898 Jose Palma’s “En la ultima pagina del Noli” (On the Last Page of the Noli) were only the
first poems of a tradition inspired by Rizal’s martyrdom and works.
When La Solidaridad, the novels of Rizal, and other works that awakened the Filipino national
conscience failed to move the Spanish government, the call for reforms was transformed into a cry
for freedom. But revolutionary literature in Spanish did not get published until Antonio Luna founded
the newspaper La Independencia in 1898. Among its staff were Fernando Ma. Guerrero, Cecilio
Apostol, and Jose Palma, who would become the poets of the war against America. Another
excellent poet of this period was Manuel Ramirez Cabrera.
Guerrero had a mastery of form, technique, and language. So did Apostol, whose “A los anonimos
martires de la patria” (To the Anonymous Martyrs of the Country) and “Al heroe Nacional” (To the
National Hero), 1898, became classics. Palma provided the lyrics of the Philippine National Anthem
with “Filipinas.” His other poems, such as, “Ven, oh paz!” (Come, oh Peace!), “Mi caida” (My Fall),
“El kundirnan” (The Kundiman), and “De mi jardin” (From My Garden) are literary gems of great
value. Guerrero would dominate lyric poetry, and Apostol, the epic.
Two other excellent poets were Manuel Romero and Carlos Peñaranda.Their impressive works,
however, failed in comparison with the works of Guerrero, Apostol, and Palma. Romero and
Peñaranda were not attuned to the new aspirations of the people.
American colonial period, love for country was expressed in the themes of hispanidad and filipinidad.
The defence, conservation, and promotion of the nation’s hispanic heritage, especially the Spanish
language and the Catholic religion, became a
1929. del tropico (Songs of the Tropics) by Bernabe;
1934. Cantame un canto en español (Sing Me a Spanish Song)
1937. Mi copa bohemia (My Bohemian Cup) by Hernandez Gavira;
1941. Pentelicas (White Marble) by Apostol;
1917. Rosas de amor (Roses of Love)
Lineas finales (Final Lines), by Tirso Irureta Goyena.
Other poets were

• Anselmo de Jesus, • Alberto Campos, • Juan Reyes,
• Norberto Romualdez, • Esteban Nedruda, • Jose G. Reyes,
• Lorenzo Perez Tuells, • Jesus Casuso, • Jose Teotico,
• Tomas Tirona, • Leoncio Magno, • Vicente Pelaez,
• Jose Lauchengco, • Monico Mercado, • Antonio Zacarias,
• Emeterio Barcelon.
With the entrenchment of an Americanized culture in the Philippines through the public school
system, the entry of British and American literature, and the spread of the English language, poetry
in Spanish declined. The Spanish literary tradition of the Philippines since its beginning in the 17th
century had stressed patriotism, religion, and hispanidad—themes which spurred it to greatness, but
eventually also— stunted its growth.
World War II had a devastating effect on literature in all languages. However, it also inspired two of
the most moving poems in Spanish:
• 1950. Bernabe’s “Romeria de la muerte” (Pilgrimage of Death) and “Bataan! Corregidor!”
Bernabe was crowned National Poet in Spanish in.
• 1953. A prestigious literary award was the Premio Zobel
• 1956. Given to Vicente de Jesus in, Gurrea
• 1957. Esperanza Lazaro de Baxter
• 1960. Fernando de la Concepcion
• 1961. Zaragoza Carillo
• 1966. Benito Valdez Vaccani in. Posthumous collections were published
• 1961. Rizal’s Poesias (Poems)
• 1971. Guerrero’s Aves y flores (Birds and Flowers)
More individual collections were published:

• 1945. Hernandez Gavira’s Mi bandera (My Flag)
• 1943. Jose Montes’ Bajo el cielo de Manila (Under the Manila Skies)
• 1953. Bernardo Garcia’s Al pie del Mayon (At the Foot of Mayon)
• 1953. Remigio Jocson’s Luciernagas (Glowworms)
• 1954. Gurrea’s A lo largo del camino (Along the Road)
• 1968. En agraz (Unripeness
• 1967. Mas senderos (More Paths)
• 1959. Guerrero Zacarias’ Kaleidoscopio espiritual (Spiritual Kaleidoscope)
• 1964. Barcelon and Zaragoza’s Rimas filipinas (Filipino Verses)
• 1957. Critics consider Bernabe’s Perfil de cresta (Profile of the Crest) the best of the lot.
Other writers tried to continue the literary tradition in Spanish but failed to catch the attention of a
steadily diminishing audience.
• Guillermo Gomez Rivera,
• Angel Estrada,
• Edmundo Farolan,
• Eliodoro Ballesteros,
• Federico Licsi Espino. However,
• EXCEPTION: trilingual Licsi Espino, who won a Premio Bastierra in Spain in the 1960’s for
his Tambor de sangre (Percussive Blood),
The Short Story.
• 1900-1940. The Golden Age of Philippine literature in Spanish saw the phenomenal growth
of the Philippine short story in Spanish. Of all the literary types that flourished during this
period, it was this genre that inspired the most numerous and the best writers. Many essayists,
poets, dramatists, and newspaper editors tried their hand at the short story. Various literary
contests stimulated the publication of short stories both in book form and in the literary
sections of the newspapers, particularly La Vanguardia, El Debate, and Nueva Era. Among
the best writers of the period were;
• Enrique Laygo,
• Buenaventura Rodriguez,
• Manuel S. Guerrero,
• Fernando Ma. Guerrero,
• Antonio M. Abad,
• Jesus Balmori,
• Francisco Rodriguez,
• Vicente del Rosario,
• Carlos Ledesma, Alejo Valdes Pica,
• Evangelina Guerrero Zacarias.
Those who wrote for Renacimiento Filipino were

• Jose Mariño,
• Angel Guerra,
• Pascual Poblete.
Winners of literary contests were

• 1935. La Valdes Pica’s “El caso Gonzales” (The Case of Conzales)
• 1936. Bernabe’s “El maestro que paro en la carcel” (The Teacher Who Ended Up in jail)
The more sordid aspects of city life are portrayed in

• 1934. Rodriguez’s “Cajita roja” (Red Box)
• 1939. Wenceslao Flores’ “La limosna” (The Alms)
The stories are about ordinary characters: teachers, bank clerks, office workers, artists, politicians,
barrio officials, fugitives, beggars, sweepstakes vendors, priests, prostitutes, and lepers. These
characters are placed in dramatic situations, sometimes involving death, as in
• 1906. Balmori’s “Tormenta” (Torment), ,
• 1900. Rodriguez’s “Nelia”; or betrayal, as in Mariño’s “Paralelismo.” In other stories, the
characters are confronted with the harsh truth and forced to live with it, as in “Redencion”
(Redemption) by Balmori,
• 1929. Hernandez Gavira’s “Cuando el amor muere” (When Love Dies). These characters
appeal to our sympathies because they struggle against the unjust restrictions of the social,
moral, or even religious codes of the world in which they find themselves.
These short stories belong to no classifiable school. They are transcripts of experience directly
observed by the writers and set down with such simplicity and fidelity that they become in themselves
unforgettable experiences. They strongly resemble the short stories of the French writers Alphonse
Daudet, Guy de Maupassant, and Prosper Merimee in their concern for the middle and lower classes,
their sympathy for their wretchedness, their attention to the immediate situation of the lives of the
characters, and their emphasis on moral issues. The stories are rendered in various forms.
• 1922. Mariño’s “Los fugitivos” (The Fugitives)
• 1910. “De tierras ignotas: la leyenda de los cinco hermanos” (Unknown Lands: The Legend
of the Five Brothers) are examples of Muslim legends.
• 1925. Abad’s “El dolor del viejo campeon” (The Anguish of the Old Champion)
• 1918. Balmori’s “Los ojos que cerro la gloria” (The Price of Glory) are beast fables. Mariño’s
“El bandolero” (Highwayman) is a frame story.
• 1928. Luna’s “La maestra de mi pueblo” (The Lady Teacher of My Town), and Fernando Ma.
Guerrero’s “La loca errabunda” (The Wandering Mad Woman) are character sketches.
• 1931. Josefa Diaz’s “Yo soy casi honorable” (I Am Almost Honorable Already) is in the
epistolary form
• 1941. Balmori’s “Bienaventurados los humildes” (Blessed Are the Meek) is a type of nature
story in debate form.
These stories give the readers a panoramic view of life during the American colonial and
Commonwealth periods. All of them, whether serious or humorous, emphasize the moral concerns
of the writers and display the writers’ mastery of the Spanish language.
The Novel. The history of the Philippine novel in Spanish begins with
• 1885. Pedro Paterno’s Ninay: Costumbres Filipinas (Ninay: Filipino Customs)
• 1969. Centenera’s Tomor-Cheg, serialized in El Debate in.
Filipino novelists in Spanish who’s name stand out:

• Jose Rizal,
• Pedro Paterno,
• Jesus Balmori,
• Antonio Abad.
• Estanislao Alinea,
• Enrique Centenera,
• Cesar Mercader,
• Miguel Ripoll,
• Rafael Ripoll,
• Anastacio Teodoro.
Paterno’s Ninay was written and first published in Spain. Ninay’s principal influences were the
Spanish prose narratives, which sketched regional Spanish types and customs in the style known as
costumbrismo. Focusing on vignettes and short pictorial descriptions, these narratives treated the
plot as secondary to the detailed description of country customs. This attention to local customs is
seen in Paterno’s Ninay, whose tortuous plot incorporates descriptions of the pasiyam (nine-night
prayers for the dead) and the pilgrimage to Antipolo.
1876. Benito Perez Galdos, whose Doña Perfecta has striking similarities with Rizal’s Noli Me
Tangere. A strong social satire against Spanish clericalism and hypocrisy, Doña Perfecta has the
same basic plot as the Noli. A young man educated in a foreign country arrives in his homeland
which he realizes is very backward. He has come for his fiancee, the daughter of a rich and influential
native. His homecoming is ominous because of the powerful presence of priests who direct the
conscience and social affairs of the citizens. The priests are hypocritical, meddling, ignorant, and
conservative. The young man is liberal and free thinking. The opposition is radical and the young
man not only fails to marry his fiancee and change the ideas of his opponents; he is also overcome
and effectively frustrated. The Noli ends with the hero Ibarra’s escape.
1891. El Filibusterismo (Subversion), Ibarra, after 13 years abroad returns to the Philippines
disguised as Simoun. He has made a huge fortune, which he will now use to avenge himself on his
enemies, and rescue from the cloister his sweetheart Maria Clara. Again, he is frustrated, and the
novel ends with Simoun’s suicide. Both novels had an important social function—that of sociopolitical
criticism. They also helped to forge unity among Filipinos of different regions, which in turn
contributed to the outbreak and triumph of the Revolution.
1910. Paterno published a collection of his novelas under the title Aurora social,. This collection
consisted of El alma Filipina, Amor de un dia (A Day’s Love), Boda a la moderna (Modern Wedding),
Maring: amor del obrero Filipino (Maring: Love of the Filipino Worker), Los heraldos de la raza
(Heralds of the Race), and Los amores de Antipolo (The Loves of Antipolo). These novelas use
melodramatic plots to explore social problems such as poverty, the corruption of the rich, the unjust
treatment of the labor class, and the abusiveness and irresponsibility of the capitalist class. More
important perhaps than Paterno are Francisco de Paula Entrala and Jose Felipe del Pan, both prolific
writers. Their novelas dealt with Philippine society and its customs.
1922. Guillermo Gomez Windham won the Zobel Prize for La Carrera De Candida, banner title of
two short novels, six short stories, and three articles. Novels were serialized in the newspapers of
the period. Among them were those written by women novelists like Antonia Rodriguez de Ureta and
Ana Garcia Latorre.
Novelists emerged during the American period:
• Luis F. Nolasco,
• Antonio Abad,
• A.R. Teodoro,
• Buenaventura Rodriguez,
• Estanislao Alinea,
• Enrique Centenera.
• Jose Flaviano Sanchez.
Jesus Balmori wrote three novels: These are conceived and executed in a romantic structure
with romantic subjects and a romantic style. Bancarrota’s romantic hero is a poet who dies
from consumption. His pregnant sweetheart enters into a marriage of convenience, vowing
that she will always love her poet-lover. A more convoluted plot is that of Se deshojo, which
follows the numerous affairs of a married man who is also an artist with a bohemian spirit. His
suffering wife dies from consumption; unable to find peace, he eventually kills himself.
1910, Bancarrota de almas (The Bankcruptcy ofSouls)

1915, Se deshojo la flor (The Flower Was Stripped of Its Petals), and the unpublished Los
pajaros de fuego (The Fire Birds)
Antonio M. Abad wrote four novels, three of which won literary prizes:
• 1927. El ltimo romantico (The Last Romantic)
• 1929. Premio Zobel, honorable mention; La oveja de nathan (Nathan’s Sheep)
• 1939. Premio Zobel; El campeon (The Champion)
• 1960. Commonwealth Literary Award; and La vida secreta de Daniel Espeña (The Secret
Life of Daniel Espeña)
These novels reveal Abad’s concern with and insight into current events of historical significance.
1920. La oveja, explores the independence question, denounces Western materialism, unmasks
American duplicity, and condemns American imperialism. The concerns of Abad’s last novel, Daniel
Espeña, are irnore metaphysical as he raises questions about the salvation of the soul and the wages
of sin. David Evangelista, a hardened criminal, changes his name to Daniel Espeña to escape the
law. He marries a pious woman and donates large sums of money to charity. But the purgation of
his soul lasts through three generations, and through terrible catastrophes both moral and natural,
with all the heartaches attendant upon these.
Costumbrismo is still evident in this last Filipino novel in Spanish, such as in the numerous notes on
scientific names of plants and the detailed depiction of tulisanes (bandits) who rob and kill on the
Visayan highway.
The Essay. The essay in Spanish began
17th century with the publication by the Spanish missionaries of meditations, translations, studies
on the Philippine languages, and explanations of Christian tenets.
1610. Dominican friar Francisco Blancas de San Jose wrote Arte y reglas de la lengua tagala (The
Art and Rules of the Tagalog Language), which is the first attempt to codify the rules of writing and
speaking Tagalog. The learning of the Spanish language, with the aid of grammar and vocabulary
manuals, opened up several avenues for the expository prose in Spanish written by Filipinos: the
memorias (memoirs), reseñas (resumes), informes (accounts), and memoriales (reports to evoke
response from the authorities). Either official or private in nature, these essays covered topics such
as politics, religion, technology, and others.
19th century, the Reform Movement used the essay form as a means to present issues, expose
and condemn Spanish abuses, and provoke the people into action. The strong nationalist sentiments
produced not only editorials, columns, and feature articles, but also letters, diaries, sermons,
speeches, travelogues, papeles volantes (loose sheets), and prosa poetica (poetic prose).
The literature of the Reform Movement was essentially a profession of adherence and loyalty to
Spain, an appeal to Spain’s sense of justice and a strong protest against friar rule. Because it was
addressed to the Spanish government and because its writers were in Madrid and Barcelona, where
they wrote the essays, most of the works were written in Spanish.
The Reform Movement begun at the turn of the 19th century, with
• 1809. Luis Rodriguez Varela’s Proclama historical que para animar a los vasallos a que
defiendan a su Rey del furor de su falso amigo, Napoleon, primer Emperador de los
Franceses (Historical Proclamation Which Aims to Exhort the Vassals to Defend Their King
From the Ire of His False Friend, Napoleon, First Emperor of the French) which already
expressed the beginnings of a Filipino consciousness.
• 1869. A model of “pulpit oratory” was 6th Pedro Pelaez’s Colecciones de sermones (A
Collection of Sermons) Pelaez was the leading exponent of the secularization of the Philippine
parishes, and he published his articles of protest in the Madrid newspaper, El Clamor Publico.
• 1864. Jose Burgos, is better known for the work Manifiesto de los leales filipinos en defensa
de su honra y fidelidad (Manifesto of the Loyal Filipinos in Defence of Their Honor and
Faithfulness)
An early figure in the Propaganda Movement was Gregorio Sancianco, who was the first
Filipino to write a treatise on Philippine problems;
• 1881. El progreso de Filipinas (The Progress of Filipinas). A part of the book builds a defence
of the small farmer, whose apathy caused by abuse and exploitation, is often mistaken for
indolence.
• 1890. Rizal’s source for his own essay, “ Sobre la indolencia de los Filipinos ” (On the
Indolence of the Filipinos).
• 1884. Rizal delivered his first political speech when Juan Luna and Felix Resureccion Hidalgo
won in an international painting contest in Madrid.
• 1889-1890. He published his articles in the Movement’s periodical, La Solidaridad. His
versatility is seen in his combative “La verdad para todos” (Truth for All), his bitterness in
“Ingratitudes” (Ingratitude), and his acute sense of history in the prophetic “ Filipinas dentro
de cien años ”. His satirical essays “La vision de Fray Rodriguez” (A Vision of 6th Rodriguez),
“Por telefono” (By Telephone), and “Una visita del Señor a las Filipinas” (First Visit of Our Lord
to the Philippines) all criticize the obscurantism of the friars in the Philippines.
• 1887-1892. A conscious attempt to grapple with the concept of “Filipino” is found in Pedro
Paterno’s series of works which exalt the people’s prehispanic civilization.
• 1887. La antigua civilizacion Tagalog (Ancient Tagalog Civilization), depicts the people as
highly civilized even before the Spaniards came;
• 1892. El Cristianismo en la antigua civilizacion Tagalog (Christianity in Ancient Tagalog
Civilization) equates indigenous religious beliefs and practices with Christian doctrines and
rituals. Other books by Paterno are pseudo-ethnographic studies of Filipino marriage
customs, morality, and the Tagalog political structure.
• 15 September 1898. The best features of Paterno’s rhetoric are contained in his inspiring
inaugural speech at the Malolos Congress on.
• 1888. Marcelo H. del Pilar’s La soberania monacal en Filipinas (The Monastic Sovereignty in
the Philippines) is a brilliant analysis of the power of the friars in the Philippines— in the
economic, political, and religious spheres.
• 1889. La frailocracia Filipina (Philippine Friarcracy), makes a forcefully logical denunciation of
friar rule.
• 1891. Graciano Lopez Jaena’s speeches and articles were collected in the book Discursos y
articulos varios (Speeches and Various Articles). First and foremost an orator, Lopez Jaena
wrote articles which were often florid and oratorical, but which also reveal an eclectic
knowledge of the Philippines, as seen in his survey of the colony’s agricultural products and
a proposal for an arts and trade curriculum.
• 1889. Fray Botod, circa, a sarcastic description of a “typical” friar in the Visayas, is considered
his masterpiece.
• 1891. Collections of essays during this period include Antonio Luna’s Impresiones
(Impressions)
• 1884. Jose Felipe del Pan’s Hay que vivir! (One Has to Live), ,
• 1893. Carlos Peñaranda’s Prosa (Prose)
• 1897. E. Polo de Lara’s Tipos y costumbres (Types and Customs). Antonio Luna’s editorials
in the newspaper that he founded, La Independencia, called for independence from Spain,
and later from America. While La Independencia was revolutionary, Republica Filipina was
conservative. Its staff was composed of writers like Paterno, Manuel Xerez Burgos, Leon Luis,
and Manuel Guerrero.
• 12 June 1898. Apolinario Mabini lived through both the revolution against Spain and the
Filipino-American War. “El verdadero decalogo” (The True Decalogue), which he translated
himself into Tagalog as “Ang Tunay na Sampung Utos” (The True Ten Commandments),
expressed his concept of a democratic Filipino government and citizenry. His “Ordenanzas
de la Revolucion” (Ordinances of the Revolution) was used by General Emilio Aguinaldo as a
basis for the program of the revolutionary government established.
• 1898. Venerables Puputs, an essay aptly depicting the temper of the ilustrados at the height
of the Filipino revolutionaries’ victory and showing the generation gap at the turn of the century
is (The Venerable Puputs) by Manuel Guerrero. It is an anticlerical piece in the tradition of the
satires of Rizal, Lopez Jaena, and M. H. del Pilar. It pokes fun at colonial mentality and
religious fanaticism as personified by two spinsters and a married woman well placed in
society. They are convinced that the insurrectos are masons because of the triangle and the
three points on their flag; and they lament the release of the Jesuits from prison instead of the
friars. Serving as foil is the married one’s 15-year-old granddaughter, a free spirit who finds
these three religious devotees laughable.
Reform Movement. Isabelo de los Reyes began writing and then continued writing well into the
American colonial period. He used history to express his nationalism; his historical accounts were
more carefully and accurately researched. His books consist of
• 1890. Historia de Ilocos (History of Ilocos), ,
• 1889. two volumes of El folklore Filipino (Filipino Folklore), ,
• 1889. Las Islas Visayas en la epoca de la conquista (The Visayan Islands in the Time of
Conquest)
• 1889. Historia de Filipinas (The History of the Philippines)
• 1889. De los Reyes, who wrote in both Spanish and Ilocano, founded El Ilocano, in, first
regional paper established by a Filipino. It published articles in both Spanish and Ilocano.
American colonialism began almost immediately after the Filipinos had won their
independence from Spain. The nationalist tradition in writing in Spanish, begun by the
Propaganda Movement, was fueled by this turn of events. Defiance of the new rulers ran high
and was expressed in historical accounts, memoirs, and biographies of patriots.
• 1899. De los Reyes wrote his Sensacional memoria sobre la Revolucion Filipina (Sensational
Account of the Philippine Revolution), while confined at the Bilibid. Other memorias were
written by Apolinario Mabini, Felipe Calderon, Teodoro M. Kalaw, and other patriots.
Biographies were written by Manuel Artigas, Teodoro M. Kalaw, Rafael Palma, Mariano Ponce,
Jaime C. de Veyra, and Epifanio de los Santos. Kalaw’s romanticized biography of Gregorio del Pilar
may be considered the most literary of the crop.
• 1900 – 1950. The essay in Spanish continued to enjoy great popularity. Subjects were on
folklore, literature, social, political, and religious problems. It was a formidable tool for forming
public opinion. Patriotic works were written by Trinidad Pardo de Tavera and Manuel
Guerrero, who wrote scientific essays; Leoncio Gonzalez Liquete, who wrote technical
essays; and Kalaw and Manuel Ravago, who wrote philosophical essays.
• 20th century. Outstanding writers of the Spanish legacy were Rafael Palma, who wrote
• 1900. El alma de España” (The Soul of Spain) Macario Adriatico, “Voto por el intercambio de
ideas” (I Vote for the Exchange of Ideas),
• 1917. Tirso de Irureta Goyena, “Por el idioma y cultura hispanos” (For the Spanish Language
and Culture) and Benigno del Rio.
Patriotic writings continued to appear in the papeles volantes of Anacleto Ramos and in
newspapers like;
• La Patria, • La Vanguardia, • El Mercantil,
• El Renacimiento, • La Opinion, • El Debate,
The more significant essayists were

• Claro M. Recto, • Epifanio C. de los Santos, • Rafael Palma,
• Teodoro M. Kalaw, • Trinidad Pardo de Tavera, • Fernando Ma. Guerrero,
• Vicente Sotto, • Jorge Bocobo, • Cecilio R. Apostol.
• 1911-1912. The newspaper El Ideal published a series of articles alternately written by Jaime
C. de Veyra and Mariano Ponce, who both wanted to promote a national consciousness.
• 1914. These articles, written in, ranged over topics of social, historical, and political interest;
these were then compiled in a book called Efemerides Filipinas (Philippine Almanac)
• 1926-1927. Another columnist was Teodoro M. Kalaw, whose series of essays from was
called Dietario espiritual.
• 1908. While Kalaw’s fame was usually associated with the controversial editorial of Fidel
Reyes, “ Aves de rapiña ” (Birds of Prey)
• 1935. Cinco reglas de nuestra moral antigua (Five Perspectives From Our Ancient Morality)
• 1908. Hacia la tierra del Zar (Towards the Land of the Czar) are of considerable literary merit.
Columnists were Jesus Balmori, Antonio M. Abad, and Benigno del Rio. As American rule became
more firmly established, contrary positions were taken by the writers in Spanish. Pardo de Tavera
attacked religious fanaticism in essays and speeches, like “El legado del ignorantismo” (The Legacy
of Ignorantism). Nationalist and anti-American themes were tackled in the essays of Kalaw, Palma,
and Irureta Coyena. Adriatico’s speeches stirred his audience, as did those of Sergio Osmeña,
Manuel Quezon, and Claro M. Recto.
Some of the more representative essays of the period are ;

• 1950. Recto’s “El castellano como factor de nuestra nacionalidad” (Spanish as a Factor of
Our Nationality)
• 1909. Palma’s “Alma Mater,”, Epifanio C. de los Santos’ Filipinos y Filipinistas (Filipinos and
Filipinists)
• 1930. Vicente Sotto’s “Una rapida vuelta al mundo” (A Quick Trip Round the World)
• 1933. Jose G. Reyes’ “ldeales de humanidad” (Ideals of Humanity),
• 1940. Luis Guzman Rivas’ “Pigmeos” (Pygmies),.
The best essays in Spanish were those that exalted the virtues and heroism of the Filipino race,
defended the hispanic legacy, and prophesied the coming of the new colonial masters.
• 1950. Representative essays
• 1954. Enrique Femandez Lumba’s Hispanofilia filipina (Philippine Love of Spain)
• 1955. Manuel Briones’ Discursos y ensayos: Tematios y vida filipina (Speeches and Essays:
Philippine Themes and Life)
• 1959. Vicente Guzman Rivas’ En España son asi (It’s That Way in Spain)
• 1956. Encarnacion Alzona’s El legado de España a Filipinas (The Legacy of Spain to the
Philippines)
• 1929. Recto’s El monroismo asiatico ( Asiatic Monroism) was thought to be the pinnacle of
Philippine prose in Spanish
• 1960. Publication of Recto’s undelivered speeches.
They were later published in a bilingual edition,

• 1985. The Recto Valedictory, in. This book, which carries an English translation by Nick
Joaquin, is a compilation of
• 1960. Recto’s speeches that he had intended to deliver in Madrid in when death stopped
him in Rome. In the 1960s, the straightforward, almost belligerent style of Guillermo Gomez
Rivera, best illustrated by his
• 1966. Filipino: Origen y conotacion y otros ensayos (Filipino: Origin and Connotation and
Other Essays) contrasted strongly with the impeccable language and serene style of
Femandez Lumba and the flowing lyrical prose of
• 1969. Nilda Guerrero Barranco in Nostalgias (Nostalgia),.
Epilogue.
• 1900 – 1930. The American insular government became firmly established throughout the
islands, more than 200 newspapers and magazines were founded. These were successively
established in Cebu, Iloilo, and Manila.
• 1942. El Renacimiento, La Democracia, La Vanguardia, remaining Spanish dailies would be
El Debate and Nueva Era. That this stream of literature was drying up was also evident in the
erratic results of the Premio Zobel. It ceased.
• 1951. Revival yieded only one entry: a poem in 31 verses.
• 1955 and 1958. There were no entries.
• 1967 to 1973. The contest was suspended from.
• 1975. It has ceased to be a literary award, the entries now dealing with sundry topics on the
country’s hispanic heritage.
• 1960. Recto and Bernabe died. Writers continued to develop the prewar theme of hispanidad.
But it was Bernabe and Recto who would remain as revered hispanic writers. The glorious
age of Philippine literature in Spanish finally ended. But El Maestro, the organ of the newly
organized Solidaridad Filipino-Hispana, served as an impetus for new writers: Guillermo
Gomez Rivera, Conchita Huerta, and Federico Licsi Espino, among others.
• 1972. The imposition of Martial Law gave Spanish letters in the Philippines another blow. The
only remaining prestigious Spanish daily then, El Debate, was closed along with the other
dailies. In the succeeding years no work of literary merit would come out except for the essays
and short stories of Nilda Guerrero Barranco and the poems of Federico Licsi Espino.
• 1985. The Centro Cultural of the Spanish Embassy in Manila launched an annual literary
contest which encourages more research on Filipino-Spanish topics rather than literary
creativity. Hispanidad in the Philippines is a thing of the past, and it would be impossible for
Filipino writers to attain the heights of Philippine literature in Spanish reached by such giants
as Rizal, Guerrero, Palma, Apostol, Recto, Balmori, Bernabe, and Abad. • E. Tiamson with
P.E. Mariño, F. Hornedo and N.G. Tiongson.
Summary. Philippine Literature during the Spanish occupation was mostly influenced by Christianity
as well as the European ideals of liberty and freedom through trade. Filipino writers either wrote in
Spanish or in their own tongue or both.
Quiz. MULTIPLE CHOICE. Write the word of the correct answer.
1) It referred to provinces not yet fully controlled by the colonial government -

• Alcaldia
• Corregimiento
2) first bishop of Manila in 1581 -
• Miguel Lopez de Legazpi ● Domiñgo de Salazar
• Jose Basco
3) The highest in the structure of the Catholic church -
• Diocese ● Parishes
• Archdiocese ● Missions
4) They were the police force in the Spanish colonial period who were feared because they were armed with
rifles -
• Cuadrilleros ● Guardia Civil
• Guardia Civil Veterana
5) They were the elite force tasked to police Manila during the Spanish colonial period -
6) The system implemented by the Spaniards where lands were divided and distributed among the Spaniards
-
• Reduccion System
• Encomienda System
7) They accompany the governor general and gobernadorcillo in patroling the town -
8) They were feared because they usually conduct surprise arrests to suspected enemies of the Catholic
church -
• Cuadrilleros
• Guardia Civil
9) The head of the diocese -
• Archbishop ● Bishop
• Kura Paroko
10) The highest judicial court in the Spanish colony -
• Ecclesiastical Court
• Real Audiencia
11) The secret investigation in the Spanish colonial government for officials who was nearing the end of term
-Residencia
• Visita
12) Which of the following was NOT a reason for Spain's rule in the Philippines?
• cultural development ● acquisition of resources
13) Who re-discovered the Philippines and proved that the world was round?
• Vasco de Gama ● Christopher Columbus
• King Philip ● Ferdinand Magellan
14. Who established Spanish colonial rule in the Philippines?
• Miguel Lopez de Legazpi ● Carlos Maria dela Torre
• Andres de Urdaneta ● Ferdinand Magellan
15. Which of the following was NOT among the repressive policies that was enforced during the Spanish
period?
• Fiestas ● Polo y Servicios
• Bandala ● Cedula
16. What economic policy imposed by Spain on the Indios that requires them to do forced labor?
• Tribute ● polo y servicios
• Bandala ● cedula
17. Who were Spaniards born in the Philippines?
• Creoles ● peninsulares
• Ilustrados ● sangleys
18. Which of the following was NOT part of the goods that were traded during the Manila-Acapulco galleon
trade?
• Gold ● silver
• Silk ● sugar
19. Which of the following was NOT a function of the state during the Spanish period?
• provide peace and order ● protect the Spanish monarchy
• defend the Catholic region ● protect the ancestral lands of the Indios
20. What social class developed the consciousness of the Filipinos to fight Spain?
• mestizos de España ● principalia
• mestizos de sangleys ● ilustrados
21. Whose death ignited the Philippine revolution of 1896?
• Andres Bonifacio ● Gomburza
• Diego Silang ● Jose Rizal
22. The Hispanic Period had started in the Philippines in 1500s. Who was the first Governor of the Philippines?
• Ruy Lopez de Villalobos ● Ferdinand Magellan
• Miguel Lopez de Legazpi ● Philip II of Spain
23. Raja Lakandula and Raja Sulayman revolted against Governor Guido de Lavezaris, because of the
abuses by the Spaniards. What is the revolt called?
• Manila Revolt ● Tamblot Revolt
• Pampanga Revolt ● Isneg Revolt
24. Which one of these Philippine revolts during the Hispanic period lasted longest?
• Camerino Revolt ● Palaris Revolt
• Dagohoy Revolt ● Parang and Upay Revolt
25. In 1762-1763 the most popular revolt took place in Ilocos. Diego and Gabriela Silang had defended Ilocos
from the Spanish authorities. Identify the relationship of the Silangs.
• they were not related ● brother and sister
• husband and wife ● parent and child
26. The Religious Revolt of Hermano Pule took seventeen months to quell. The root of this revolt came from
this kind of order The One, this author described was a
• Business Order ● Religious Order
• Government Order ● Personal Order
27. Which of these priests was executed by Governor-General Rafael de Izuquierdo in 1872?
• Jacinto Zamora ● Mariano Gomez
• all of them were executed ● Jose Apolonio Burgos
28. Dr. Jose Protacio Rizal is Philippines' national hero because of his large contribution to independence
during the 19th century. What was his main weapon against the Spaniards?
• Guns ● Pen
• Swords and Knives ● Religion
29. Which of these capital punishments was used to execute him?
• Shooting ● Guillotine
• Garrote ● Live burial
30. The massive raid in the printing press of "Diario de Manila" (Spanish for "The Newspaper of Manila") had
alarmed the Katipunan members due to the arrest of their several comrades. After the second general
meeting, these men decided to tear up this important document. Which of these was it?
• address books ● all of these
• birth or baptismal certificate ● residence certificates
31. The Tejeros Convention happened in which Philippine province?
• Batangas ● Manila
• Cavite ● Laguna
32. The Spanish-American War brought an end to Spanish rule. In May 1898, the Americans, under
Commodore George Dewey won "The Battle of ______ ______".
• Batangas Bay ● Manila Bay
• Bacoor Bay ● Laguna Bay
TRUE/FALSE. Write TRUE if the statement is correct and write FALSE if the statement is wrong.
1. Jose Rizal in Tondo, Manila.
2. Andres Bonifacio talked personally to Rizal during the later's exile in Dapitan.
3. Filipinos remembered Dr. Jose Rizal as the patriot of the masses. He was executed by the Spanish
authorities in Luneta (Bagumbayan by then), Manila in December 30, 1896.
4. King Philip II established the Real Audiencia in 1538 -
5. The Spaniards used to purchase crops to natives and would sell it to a lower price to the natives -
6. The Catholic church did not expose the abuses of the government -
7. The cabeza de barangay was not required to pay taxes -
8. The Governor general was given the authority to assign priests to head the parishes
9. The Ecclesiastical court hears cases involving church officials -
10. The official investigation of a government official who was nearing the end of his term -
11. Residencia Visita
12. The clergy performed religious duties during the Spanish period -
13. The governor general enjoyed the privilege of participating in different commercial activities and trade
14. The head of the parish was the kura paroko -
15. The clergy performed religious duties during the Spanish period -
Lesson 3
THE AMERICAN AND THE
JAPANESE PERIODS
American Occupation (1898–1940)
• 1901. The US established a civil government. Free public education was introduced.
English was the medium of instruction.
• 1934, President Roosevelt signed a bill making the Philippines a commonwealth. On May 14,
1935 Manuel L. Quezon was elected president.
Literary Works Produced

• 1924. The production of literary works in English is the direct result of the American
colonization of the Philippines. The first collection of poetry in English is Filipino Poetry, edited
by Rodolfo Dato.
• 1925. The short story “Dead Stars” by Paz Marquez Benitez is considered as the first Filipino
modern short story in English.
• 1921. A Child of Sorrow by Zoilo M. Galang is the first Filipino novel in English.
• 1940. The novel His Native Soil by Juan C. Laya won first prize in the First Commonwealth
Literary Awards.
• 1912. Filipino writers in English during the apprenticeship period imitated American writing.
The poet Fernando Maramag writes in the Romantic tradition in his sonnet “Moonlight on
Manila Bay”. Filipino fictionists copied Sherwood Anderson, William Saroyan, and Ernest
Hemingway. Jose Garcia Villa used the Anderson pattern. Manuel Arguilla and N. V. M.
Gonzalez were influenced by Anderson and Hemingway. Francisco Arcellana was influenced
by Saroyan.
Japanese Occupation (1941–1945)

• December 8, 1941, the Japanese attacked Manila.
• January 2, 1942, Japanese occupied Manila. They set up a Council of State in the country
and started propaganda to remold the Filipinos.
• October 1943 the Japanese declared the Philippines “independent.” On September 20, Jose
P. Laurel was elected president.
• 1944. MacArthur and his Allied forces returned to the country. They landed on Leyte on
October 20, and the biggest naval battle in history ensued.
• September 2, 1945.The Japanese surrendered formally.
Literary Works Produced. During the occupation, publications were censored by the military. Also,
Tagalog was declared an official language (together with Nihonggo). In effect, Philippine literature in
English came to a halt. Some Filipino writers then turned to writing in Filipino.
• 1943-1944. The Tagalog short story reached its maturity during the period. The best works
were compiled by the Liwayway magazine editors in Ang Pinakamabuting Maikling Kathang
Pilipino ng 1943, which came out. It is a collection of stories that won a contest sponsored by
the Japanese.
The top four stories were

• “Lupang Tinubuan” by Narciso G. Reyes,
• “Uhaw ang Tigang na Lupa” by Liwayway Arceo,
• “Nayon at Dagat-dagatan” by N. V. M. Gonzalez, and
• “Suyuan sa Tubigan” by Macario Pineda.
Japanese Period of the Philippine Literature, 1941-1945:

• Philippine Literature was interrupted in its development when we were again conquered by
another foreign country, Japan.
• Philippine literature in English came to a halt. Except for the Tribune and the Philippine
Review, Pillars, Free Philippines, and Filipina, almost all newspapers in English were stopped
by the Japanese. There was no freedom of speech and of the press.
• Victoria Abelardo has described Filipino writing during the Japanese occupation as being
pessimistic and bitter.
• There were some efforts at escapist literature, but in general, the literary output was minor
and insignificant. Because of strict censorship, few literary works were printed during the war
years.
• The weekly Liwayway was placed under strict surveillance until it was managed by a
Japanese named Ishiwara
• The only contact with the outside world was done with utmost secrecy through the
underground radio program called “Voice of Freedom”.
• Tagalog was favored by the Japanese military authority and writing in English was consigned
to a limbo.
• Japanese were able to influence and encourage the Filipino in developing the vernacular
literature.
• The only Filipino writers who could write freely were those who were living in the United States.
Most writers and authors were lead to either go underground or write in Tagalog.
• Filipino literature was given a break during this period. It experienced renewed attention
because writers in English turned to writing in Filipino.
• The drama experienced a lull during the Japanese period because movie houses showing
American films were closed. The big movie houses were just made to show stage shows.
Many of the plays were reproductions of English plays to Tagalog. The translators were
Francisco Soc Rodrigo, Alberto Concio, and Narciso Pimentel. -They also founded the
organization of Filipino players named .
• Three types of poems emerged during this period: a poem of free verse that the Japanese
liked. It is made up of seventeen (17) syllables divided into three (3) lines. The first line has
five, the second – seven and the third – five. It is allegorical in meaning, short and covers a
wide scope in meaning. Like the haiku, it is short, but has measure and rhyme. Each line has
seventeen syllables and is also allegorical in meaning. (Usual Form) – the usual and common
form of poetry.
• The field of the short story widened during the Japanese Occupation. Many wrote short
stories. -Among them were: Brigido Batungbakal Macario Pineda Serafin Guinigindo
Liwayway Arceo, Narciso Ramos NVM Gonzales, Alicia Lopez Lim Ligaya Perez Gloria
Guzman
• The best writings in 1945 were selected by a group of judges composed of Francisco Icasiano,
Jose Esperanza Cruz, Antonio Rosales, Clodualdo del Mundo and Teodoro Santos. As a
result of this selection, the following got the first three prizes:
o First Prize: Narciso Reyes with his LUPANG TINUBUAN

o Second Prize: Liwayway Arceo’s UHAW ANG TIGANG NA LUPA Third Prize: NVM
Gonzales’ LUNSOD NAYON AT DAGAT- DAGATAN
• Noteworthy writer of the period was Carlos P. Romulo who won the Pulitzer Prize for his
bestsellers I SAW THE FALL OF THE PHILIPPINES, I SEE THE PHILIPPINES RISE and his
MOTHER AMERICA AND MY BROTHER AMERICANS. Journalists include Salvador P.
Lopez, Leon Ma. Geurrero, Raul Manglapuz and Carlos Bulosan. Nick Joaquin produced THE
WOMAN WHO LOOKED LIKE LAZARUS. Fred Ruiz Castro wrote a few poems.
• LITERATURE AND SOCIETY by Salvador P. Lopez (Essay) HIS NATIVE SOIL – by Juan
Laya (Novel) President Manuel L. Quezon’s autobiography THE GOOD FIGHT was published
posthumously. Other writers of this period were Juan Collas (1940,) Tomas Confesor (1945),
Roman A. de la Cruz and Elisa Tabuñar.Philippine Literature during the Japanese Era:
• During the Japanese Occupation, when Tagalog was favored by the Japanese military
authority, writing in English was consigned to limbo. It picked up after the war, however, with
a fervor and drive for excellence that continue to this day. Stevan Javellana's "Without Seeing
the Dawn" (1947), the first postwar novel in English, was published in the United States. In
1946, the Barangay Writers Project was founded to help publish books in English.
• Against a background marked by political unrest and government battles with Hukbalahap
guerrillas, writers in English in the postwar period honed their sense of craft and techniques.
Among the writers who came into their own during this time were: Nick Joaquin, NVM
Gonzalez, Francisco Arcellana, Carlos Bulosan, F. Sionil Jose, Ricaredo Demetillo, Kerima
Polotan Tuvera, Carlos Angeles, Edilberto K. Tiempo, Amador Daguio, Estrella Alfon,
Alejandrino Hufana, Gregorio Brillantes, Bienvenido Santos, Dominador Ilio, T.D. Agcaoili,
Alejandro R. Roces, Sinai C. Hamada, Linda Ty-Casper, Virginia Moreno, Luis Dato, Gilda
Cordero-Fernando, Abelardo and Tarrosa Subido, Manuel A. Viray, Vicente Rivera Jr., and
Oscar de Zuñiga, among many others.
• Fresh from studies in American universities, usually as Fulbright or Rockefeller scholars, a
number of these writers introduced New Criticism to the country and applied its tenets in
literature classes and writing workshops. In this way were born the Silliman Writers Summer
Workshop (started in 1962 by Edilberto K. Tiempo and Edith L. Tiempo) and the U.P. Writers
Summer Workshop (started in 1965 by the Department of English at the U.P.). To this day,
these workshops help discover writing talents and develop them in their craft.
A few of the playwriters were:

1) Jose Ma. Hernandez – wrote PANDAY PIRA
2) Francisco Soc Rodrigo – wrote sa PULA, SA PUTI
3) Clodualdo del Mundo – wrote BULAGA (an expression in the game Hide and Seek).
4) Julian Cruz Balmaceda – wrote SINO BA KAYO?, DAHIL SA ANAK, and HIGANTE NG
PATAY.
Philippine Culture in Japanese Occupation: The arrival of the Japanese caused tremendous fear,
hardships and suffering among the Filipinos. The Filipino way of life was greatly affected during the
Japanese period. The Filipinos lost their freedom of speech and expression. The development of art
was also stopped. Filipinos greatly feared the "zoning". There were Filipinos spies hired by the
Japanese to point those who were suspected of being part of the guerilla movement. The Japanese
made some changes in the system of education.
Philippine Music During the Japanese Era: Despite the terror and uncertainty brought by the
Second World War and the Japanese rule in the country, playing and listening to music were among
the leisure activities that somehow made life bearable for Filipinos. Under their rule, the Japanese
imposed their own music on the country. Japanese music was heard daily in radio broadcasts. Their
songs were also taught in public schools. Students, however, never took these songs to heart. The
performance of jazz and Western music identified with the allied nations of the war was prohibited.
Hence, the Japanese held conferences and lectures on Oriental music in Manila with the hope of
diverting the loyalty of the Filipinos away from the Americans. The first was a Japanese Musical
Mission to the Philippines held on May 7, 1943, with the support of the New Philippine Musical
Federation headed by Kosak Yamada.
The Japanese nevertheless encouraged the creation and performance of music with native themes
through music contests. Concerts were also a common form of amusement for Filipinos at the time
and the Metropolitan Theater became an important venue for cultural events.
Classical music, including opera, flourished during the war. For instance, the New Philippine
Symphony, the first all-Filipino orchestra, was organized. It performed an all-Philippine symphonic
program in July 1942, with Francisco Santiago as conductor. The Philippine Conservatory of Music,
an affiliate of the Philippine Women’s University, was one of the few music schools in the country
that opened during the war.
Music-making remained a popular pastime in homes. Families sang and played musical instruments
to entertain themselves. On special occasions, families held special concerts for themselves, as well
as their friends. All these prove that even during turbulent times, Filipinos’ love of music could never
be suppressed.
Philippine literary production during the American Period in the Philippines was spurred by two
significant developments in education and culture. One is the introduction of free public instruction
for all children of school age and two, the use of English as medium of instruction in all levels of
education in public schools.
Free public education made knowledge and information accessible to a greater number of Filipinos.
Those who availed of this education through college were able to improve their social status and
joined a good number of educated masses who became part of the country’s middle class.
The use of English as medium of instruction introduced Filipinos to Anglo-American modes of

thought, culture and life ways that would be embedded not only in the literature produced but also in
the psyche of the country’s educated class. It was this educated class that would be the wellspring
of a vibrant Philippine Literature in English.
Philippine literature in English, as a direct result of American colonization of the country, could not
escape being imitative of American models of writing especially during its period of apprenticeship.
The poetry written by early poets manifested studied attempts at versification as in the following
poem which is proof of the poet’s rather elementary exercise in the English language:
Vacation days at last are here,

And we have time for fun so dear,
All boys and girls do gladly cheer,
This welcomed season of the year.
In early June in school we’ll meet;
A harder task shall we complete
And if we fail we must repeat
That self same task without retreat.
We simply rest to come again
To school where boys and girls obtain
The Creator’s gift to men
Whose sanguine hopes in us remain.
Vacation means a time for play
For young and old in night and day
My wish for all is to be gay,
And evil none lead you astray
– Juan F. Salazar
• May 9, 1909. Philippines Free Press.
• 1909 – 1924. The poem was anthologized in the first collection of poetry in English, Filipino
Poetry, edited by Rodolfo Dato. Among the poets featured in this anthology were;
• Proceso Sebastian • Vicente Callao, • Carlos P. Romulo,

• Maximo Kalaw, • Santiago Sevilla, • Francisco Tonogbanua,
• Fernando Maramag, • Bernardo Garcia, • Juan Pastrana,
• Leopoldo Uichanco, • Francisco Africa, • Maria Agoncillo,
• Jose Ledesma, • Pablo Anzures, • Paz Marquez Benitez,
• Luis Dato
1924-1934. The English German Anthology of Poetsedited by Pablo Laslo was published and
covered poets published from among whom were;
• Teofilo D. Agcaoili, • Amador T. Daguio, • Trinidad Tarrosa,
• Aurelio Alvero, • Salvador P. Lopez, • Abelardo Subido
• Horacio de la Costa, • Angela Manalang Gloria, • Jose Garcia Villa
A third pre-war collection of poetry was edited by

• Carlos Bulosan,
Chorus for America: Six Philippine Poets. The six poets in this collection were
• Jose Garcia Villa, • C.B. Rigor,
• Rafael Zulueta da Costa, • Cecilio Baroga
• Rodrigo T. Feria, • Carlos Bulosan.
In fiction, the period of apprenticeship in literary writing in English is marked by imitation of the style
of storytelling and strict adherence to the craft of the short story as practiced by popular American
fictionists. Early short story writers in English were often dubbed as the Andersons or Saroyans or
the Hemingways of Philippine letters. Leopoldo Yabes in his study of the Philippine short story in
English from 1925 to 1955 points to these models of American fiction exerting profound influence on
the early writings of story writers like Francisco Arcellana, A.E. Litiatco, Paz Latorena.
• 1908. The University of the Philippines was founded an elite group of writers in English began
to exert influence among the culturati.
• 1926. The U.P. Writers Club founded had stated that one of its aims was to enhance and
propagate the “language of Shakespeare.”
• 1925. Paz Marquez Benitez short story, “Dead Stars”was published and was made the
landmark of the maturity of the Filipino writer in English. Soon after Benitez, short story writers
began publishing stories no longer imitative of American models. Thus, story writers like
Icasiano Calalang, A.E. Litiatco, Arturo Rotor, Lydia Villanueva, Paz Latorena , Manuel
Arguilla began publishing stories manifesting both skilled use of the language and a keen
Filipino sensibility.
This combination of writing in a borrowed tongue while dwelling on Filipino customs and traditions
earmarked the literary output of major Filipino fictionists in English during the American period.
Thus, the major novels of the period;
• Filipino Rebel, by Maximo Kalaw,
• His Native Soil by Juan C. Laya, are discourses on cultural identity, nationhood and being
Filipino done in the English language.
• Stories such as
✓ How My Brother Leon Brought Home a Wife” by Manuel Arguilla scanned the scenery
as well as the folkways of Ilocandia
✓ N.V. M. Gonzales’s novels and stories such as “Children of the Ash Covered Loam,”
present the panorama of Mindoro, in all its customs and traditions while configuring its
characters in the human dilemma of nostalgia and poverty.
• Arguilla and Gonzales, noted fictionists during the period included
✓ Francisco Arcellana, whom Jose Garcia Villa lauded as a “genius” storyteller,
✓ Consorcio Borje,
✓ Aida Rivera,
✓ Conrado Pedroche,
✓ Amador Daguio,
✓ Sinai Hamada,
✓ Hernando Ocampo,
✓ Fernando Maria Guerrero
✓ Jose Garcia Villa himself wrote several short stories but devoted most of his time to
poetry.
1936. The Philippine Writers League was organized, Filipino writers in English began discussing the
value of literature in society. Initiated and led by Salvador P. Lopez, whose essays on Literature and
Societyprovoked debates, the discussion centered on proletarian literature, i.e., engaged or
committed literature versus the art for art’s sake literary orientation. With Salvador P. Lopez, the
essay in English gained the upper hand in day to day discourse on politics and governance.
Polemicists who used to write in Spanish like Claro M. Recto, slowly started using English in the
discussion of current events even as newspaper dailies moved away from Spanish reporting into
English. Among the essayists, Federico Mangahas had an easy facility with the language and the
essay as genre. Other noted essayists during the period were Fernando Maramag, Carlos P. Romulo
, Conrado Ramirez. On the other hand, the flowering of a vibrant literary tradition due to historical
events did not altogether hamper literary production in the native or indigenous languages. In fact,
the early period of the 20th century was remarkable for the significant literary output of all major
languages in the various literary genre.
Early American period, seditious plays, using the form of the zarsuwela, were mounted.
Zarsuwelistas Juan Abad, Aurelio Tolentino ,Juan Matapang Cruz. Juan Crisostomo Sotto mounted
the classics like Tanikalang Ginto, Kahapon, Ngayon at Bukas and Hindi Ako Patay, all directed
against the American imperialists. Patricio Mariano’s Anak ng Dagat and Severino Reyes’s Walang
Sugat are equally remarkable zarsuwelas staged during the period.
World War II, Wilfredo Maria Guerrero gain dominance in theatre through his one-act plays which
he toured through his “mobile theatre”. Thus, Wanted a Chaperone and The Forsaken Housebecame
very popular in campuses throughout the archipelago. The novel in Tagalog, Iloko, Hiligaynon and
Sugbuanon also developed during the period aided largely by the steady publication of weekly
magazines like the Liwayway, Bannawag and Bisaya which serialized the novels.
20th century. Tagalog novelists were;

• Ishmael Amado,
• Valeriano Hernandez Peña,
• Faustino Aguilar,
• Lope K. Santos
• Lazaro Francisco.
• 1909. Ishmael Amado’s Bulalakaw ng Pag-asa published one of the earliest novels that dealt
with the theme of American imperialism in the Philippines.
• 1916. The novel, was not released from the printing press until, at which time, the author, by his
own admission and after having been sent as a pensionado to the U.S., had other ideas apart
from those he wrote in the novel.
Valeriano Hernandez Peña’s Nena at Neneng narrates the story of two women who happened to be
best of friends as they cope with their relationships with the men in their lives. Nena succeeds in her
married life while Neneng suffers from a stormy marriage because of her jealous husband.
Faustino Aguilar published Pinaglahuan, a love triangle set in the early years of the century when
the worker’s movement was being formed. The novel’s hero, Luis Gatbuhay, is a worker in a printery
who isimprisoned for a false accusation and loses his love, Danding, to his rival Rojalde, son of a
wealthy capitalist. Lope K. Santos, Banaag at Sikat has almost the same theme and motif as the
hero of the novel, Delfin, also falls in love with a rich woman, daughter of a wealthy landlord. The
love story of course is set also within the background of development of the worker’s trade union
movement and throughout the novel, Santos engages the readers in lengthy treatises and discourses
on socialism and capitalism. Many other Tagalog novelists wrote on variations of the same theme,
i.e., the interplay of fate, love and social justice. Among these writers are Inigo Ed Regalado, Roman
Reyes, Fausto J. Galauran, Susana de Guzman, Rosario de Guzman-Lingat, Lazaro Francisco,
Hilaria Labog, Rosalia Aguinaldo, Amado V. Hernandez.
1979. Many of these writers were able to produce three or more novels as Soledad Reyes would
bear out in her book which is the result of her dissertation, Ang Nobelang Tagalog.
Among the Iloko writers, noted novelists were Leon Pichay, who was also the region’s poet laureate
then, Hermogenes Belen, and Mena Pecson Crisologo whose Mining wenno Ayat ti Kararwa is
considered to be the Iloko version of a Noli me Tangere.
In the Visayas, Magdalena Jalandoni and Ramon Muzones would lead most writers in writing the
novels that dwelt on the themes of love, courtship, life in the farmlands, and other social upheavals
of the period. Marcel Navarra wrote stories and novels in Sugbuhanon.
Poetry in all languages continued to flourish in all regions of the country during the American period.
The Tagalogs, hailing Francisco F. Balagtas as the nation’s foremost poet invented the balagtasan
in his honor. Thebalagtasan is a debate in verse, a poetical joust done almost spontaneously
between protagonists who debate over the pros and cons of an issue.
March 1924. The first balagtasan was held in the Instituto de Mujeres, with Jose Corazon de Jesus
and Florentino Collantes as rivals, bubuyog (bee) and paru-paro (butterfly) aiming for the love of
kampupot (jasmine). It was during this balagtasan that Jose Corazon de Jesus, known as Huseng
Batute, emerged triumphant to become the first king of the Balagtasan. Jose Corazon de Jesus was
the finest master of the genre. He was later followed by balagtasistas, Emilio Mar Antonio and
Crescenciano Marquez, who also became King of the Balagtasan in their own time.
As Huseng Batute, de Jesus also produced the finest poems and lyrics during the period. His debates
with Amado V. Hernandez on the political issue of independence from America and nationhood were
mostly done in verse and are testament to the vitality of Tagalog poetry during the era. Lope K.
Santos, epic poem, Ang Panggingera is also proof of how poets of the period have come to master
the language to be able to translate it into effective poetry.
The balagtasan would be echoed as a poetical fiesta and would be duplicated in the Ilocos as
thebukanegan, in honor of Pedro Bukaneg, the supposed transcriber of the epic, Biag ni Lam-ang;
and theCrissottan, in Pampanga, in honor of the esteemed poet of the Pampango, Juan Crisostomo
Sotto.
1932. Alejandro G. Abadilla , armed with new criticism and an orientation on modernist poetry would
taunt traditional Tagalog poetics with the publication of his poem, “Ako ang Daigdig.” Abadilla’s poetry
began the era of modernism in Tagalog poetry, a departure from the traditional rhymed, measured
and orally recited poems. Modernist poetry which utilized free or blank verses was intended more for
silent reading than oral delivery.
Noted poets in Tagalog during the American period were

• Julian Cruz Balmaceda, • Benigno Ramos, • Aniceto Silvestre,
• Florentino Collantes, • Inigo Ed. Regalado, • Emilio Mar. Antonio ,
• Pedro Gatmaitan, • Ildefonso Santos, • Alejandro Abadilla
• Jose Corazon de Jesus, • Lope K. Santos, • Teodoro Agoncillo.
Tagalog writers formed the Ilaw at Panitik, and held discussions and workshops on the value of
literature in society. Benigno Ramos, was one of the most politicized poets of the period as he aligned
himself with the peasants of the Sakdal Movement.
Fiction in Tagalog as well as in the other languages of the regions developed alongside the novel.
Most fictionists are also novelists. Brigido Batungbakal , Macario Pineda and other writers chose to
dwell on the vicissitudes of life in a changing rural landscape. Deogracias Del Rosario on the other
hand, chose the city and the emerging social elite as subjects of his stories. He is considered the
father of the modern short story in Tagalog
Popular fictionists who emerged during the period are two women writers,
• Liwayway Arceo, “Uhaw ang Tigang na Lupa” have been used as models of fine writing in
Filipino by teachers of composition throughout the school system
• Genoveva Edroza Matute, considered forerunners in the use of “light” fiction, a kind of story
telling that uses language through poignant rendition. Genoveva Edroza Matute’s “Ako’y Isang
Tinig”
• 1945. Teodoro Agoncillo’s anthology 25 Pinakamahusay na Maiikling Kuwento included
the foremost writers of fiction in the pre-war era.
Literature and writing in whatever language and in whatever climate are able to survive mainly
through the active imagination of writers. Lacking during the period was for the writers in the various
languages to come together, share experiences and come to a conclusion on the elements that
constitute good writing in the Philippines.
1946. Ginto Sa Makiling – a novel by Macario Pineda, is the first work of note that appeared after
the second world war. In plot, it hews close to the mode of romantic fantasy traceable to the awits,
koridos and komedyas of the Balagtas tradition. But it is a symbolical narrative of social, moral and
political import. In this, it resembles not only Balagtas but also Rizal, but in style and plot it is closer
to Balagtas in not allowing the realistic mode to restrict the element of fantasy.
Novel writers in English dealt with the war experience:

• 1947. Stevan Javellana’s Without Seeing the Dawn and Edilberto Tiempo’s Watch in the
Night. Both novels hew closely to the realist tradition. Lazaro Francisco, the eminent Tagalog
novelist of the pre-war years, was to continue to produce significant work.
• 1932. He revised his Bayaning Nagpatiwakal refashioning its plot and in sum honing his work
as a weapon against the policies that tended to perpetuate American economic dominance
over the Philippines.
• 1948. The updated novel was titled Ilaw Sa Hilaga.
• 1950. He was to produce three more novels.Sugat Sa Alaala reflects the horrors of the war
experience as well as the human capacity for nobility, endurance and love under the most
extreme circumstances.
• 1956. Maganda Pa Ang Daigdig deals with the agrarian issue,
• 1962. Daluyong deals with the corruption bred by the American-style and American-educated
pseudo-reformers. Lazaro Francisco is a realist with social and moral ideals. The Rizal
influence on his work is profound.
• 1963. The poet Amado Hernandez, who was also union leader and social activist, also wrote
novels advocating social change. Luha ng Buwaya deals with the struggle between the
oppressed peasantry and the class of politically powerful landlords.
• 1969. Mga Ibong Mandaragit deals with the domination of Filipinos by American industry
Unfortunately, the Rizalian path taken by Lazaro Francisco and Amado Hernandez with its social-
realist world-view had the effect of alienating them from the mode of the highly magical oral-epic
tradition. Imported social realism, was not entirely in touch with the folk sentiment and folk belief,
which is why the Tagalog romances were far more popular than their work.
It was Philippine Literature in English which tapped the folk element in the Philippine unconscious to
impressive, spectacular effect. Nick Joaquin, through his neo-romantic, poetic and histrionic style, is
reminiscent of the dramas of Balagtas and de la Cruz. His dizzying flashbacks are cinematic in effect,
ironically quite Hollywood-ish, serving always to beguile and astonish.
Francisco Arcellana, his younger contemporary, was a master of minimalist fiction that is as native
as anything that could be written in English, possessing the potent luminosity of a sorcerer’s rune.
Wilfrido Nolledo, fictionist-playwright growing up in the aura of such masters, was the disciple
who, without conscious effort, created a school of his own. His experiments in plot and plotlessness,
his creation of magical scenes, made splendorous by a highly expressive language, easily became
the rage among young writers who quickly joined the Nolledo trend.
1960’s Poetic fictionists were;

• Wilfredo Pasqua Sanchez, • Resil Mojares,
• Erwin Castillo, • Leopoldo Cacnio
• Cesar Ruiz Aquino, • Ninotchka Rosca.
Their non-realistic style made them perhaps the most original group of writers to emerge in the post-
war period. But such a movement that slavishly used the American colonists’ language were called
decadent.
Post-war poetry and fiction was dominated by the writers in English educated and trained in writers’
workshops in the United States or England. Most of these writers returned to the Philippines to teach.
With their credentials and solid reputations, they influenced the form and direction of the next
generation mainly in accordance with the dominant tenets of the formalist New Critics of America
and England. Among these were the;
• novelists Edilberto and Edith Tiempo,
• short-fictionist Francisco Arcellana,
• poet-critic Ricaredo Demetillo,
• poet-fictionist Amador Daguio,
• poet Carlos Angeles, fictionists N.V.M. Gonzales and Bienvenido N. Santos.
1944. Even literature in the Tagalog-based national language could not avoid being influenced or
even assimilated. College-bred writers in Filipino like Rogelio Sikat and Edgardo Reyes saw the need
to hone their artistry according to the dominant school of literature in America of that period, despite
the fact that the neo-Aristotelian formalist school went against the grain of their socialist orientation.
Poet-critic Virgilio Almario, a.k.a. Rio Alma, in a break-away move reminiscent of Alejandro Abadilla,
and in the formalist mode then fashionable, bravely opined that Florante at Laura, Balagtas’
acknowledged masterpiece, was an artistic failure.
1980. Almario revised his views.
The protest tradition of Rizal, Bonifacio and Amado Hernandez found expression in the works of
Tagalog poets from the late 1960’s to the 1980’s, as they confronted Martial Law and repression.
Among these liberationist writers were Jose Lacaba, Epifanio San Juan, Rogelio Mangahas,
Lamberto Antonio, Lilia Quindoza, and later, Jesus Manuel Santiago. The group Galian sa Arte at
Tula nurtured mainly Manila writers and writing during some of the darkest periods of Martial Law.
Meanwhile, behind the scenes on the printed page, oral literature flourished in the outlying
communities. Forms of oral poetry like the Cebuano Balak, the Ilokano Bukanegan, the Tagalog
Balagtasan, and the SamalTinis-Tinis, continued to be declaimed by the rural-based bards, albeit to
dwindling audiences. In the late 1960’s, Ricaredo Demetillo had, using English pioneered a linkage
with the oral tradition. The result was the award-winning Barter in Panay, an epic based on the
Ilonggo epic Maragtas. Inspired by the example, other younger poets wrote epics or long poems,
and they were duly acclaimed by the major award-giving bodies. Among these poets were writers in
English like;
• 1968. The Archipelago, Cirilo Bautista
• 1970. Northward into Noon, Artemio Tadena
• 1977. Moses, Domingo de Guzman
However, except for Demetillo’s modern epic, these attempts fall short of establishing a linkage with
the basic folk tradition. Indeed, most are more like long meditative poems, like Eliot’s or Neruda’s
long pieces. Interest in the epic waned as the 1980’s approached. The 1980’s became a decade of
personalistic free verse characteristic of American confessional poetry. The epic “big picture”
disappeared from the scene, to be replaced by a new breed of writers nourished by global literary
sources, and critical sources in the developed world. The literary sources were third world (often
nativistic) poetry such as that of Neruda, Vallejo and Octavio Paz. In fiction, the magic-realism of
Borges, Garcia Marquez and Salman Rushdie, among others, influenced the fiction of Cesar Aquino,
Alfred Yuson, and poet-fictionist Mario Gamalinda.
The poets trained in American workshops continue to write in the lyrical-realist mode characteristic
of American writing, spawned by imagism and neo-Aristotelianism. Their influence can be felt in the
short lyric and the medium-length meditative poem that are still the Filipino poet’s preferred medium.
Among these writers are the poet-critics;
• Edith L. Tiempo, Gemino Abad,
• Ophelia A. Dimalanta
• Emmanuel Torres.
Some contemporary poets in English such as

• Marjorie Evasco
• Merlie Alunan, derive their best effects from their reverence for the ineluctable image.
• Ricardo de Ungria’s
• Luisa Aguilar Cariño’s poems, are a rich confluence of imagism, surrealism and
confessionalism.
The Philippine novel, whether written in English or any of the native languages, has remained social-
realist.
• 1966. Edgardo Reyes’ Sa Mga Kuko ng Liwanag, is a critique of urban blight,
• 1972. Edilberto K. Tiempo’s To Be Free is a historical probe of the western idea of freedom
in the context of indigenous Philippine culture. Kerima Polotan Tuvera’s novel The Hand of
the Enemy, a penetratingly lucid critique of ruling-class psychology, is entirely realistic, if
Rizalian in its moments of high satire, although unlike the Rizalian model, it falls short of a
moral vision.
Only a few novelists like Gamalinda, Yuson and Antonio Enriquez, can claim a measure of success
in tapping creative power from folk sources in their venture to join the third world magic-realist
mainstream.
But the poets of oral-folk charisma, such as Jose Corazon de Jesus, are waiting in the wings for a
comeback as astonishing as Lam-ang’s legendary resurrection. Modernist and post-modernist
criticism, which champions the literature of the disempowered cultures, has lately attained sufficient
clout to shift the focus of academic pursuits towards native vernacular literatures and on the
revaluation of texts previously ignored, such as those by women writers. Sa Ngalan Ng Ina (1997),
by prize-winning poet-critic Lilia Quindoza Santiago, is, to date, the most comprehensive compilation
of feminist writing in the Philippines.
Summary. The American occupation of the Philippines spurred the writing of Filipinos in English.
On the other hand, the Japanese occupation censored literary works yet contributed to the maturity
of the Tagalog short story.
Test. MULTIPLE CHOICE. Write the word of the correct answer.

1. What kind of literature was prominent during the period of emergence?
• Politics and War ● National Identity and Freedom
• National Identity, Pattern, and Realism ● National Identity, Unique Voice, and Realism
2. When was the Period of Emergence?
• 1896-1910 ● 1910-1935
• 1935-1945 ● 1946-present
3. Who was the commonwealth president during the period of emergence?
• Manuel Roxas ● Manuel Arguilla
• Manuel Quezon ● Gloria Macapagal
4. When was the Japanese occupation in the Philippines?
• 1941-1945 ● 1990-1995
• 1935-1940 ● 1890-1900
5. The usual plot in literary texts during the period of emergence involves...
• conflict with nations ● poverty
• realistic events ● colonial rule
6. The conflict in stories involve the following except...
• daily struggles ● life
• identity ● family
7. The language used in literary texts during the period include...
• Spanish and English ● Spanish and Filipino
• Filipino and English ● English and Korean
8. The three types of poetry the Japanese brought include...
• Haiku, Zen, and Usual Form ● Haiku, Zen, and Tanaga
• Haiku, Tanaga, and Usual Form ● Free Verse
9. This poem consists of 17 syllables distributed in 3 lines with 5-7-5 measurement.
• Tanaga ● Zen
• Free Verse ● Haiku
10. This poem consists of 4 lines with 7-7-7-7 syllables per line.
• Haiku ● Tanaga
• Free Verse ● Zen
11. TRUE / FALSE. Filipino writers sought to create our own brand of national literature.
12. TRUE / FALSE. In this period, the Filipino writers were able to take control of the English
language but still copied Western literary styles.
13. TRUE / FALSE. Even with the use of English all throughout the poem, the work is very Filipino
in theme.
14. TRUE / FALSE. Literary texts in this period depicts the realistic portrayal of life in the Philippines.
15.It is a body of written works which originated from oral traditions.
• Literary Text ● Oral Literature
• Folk Tales ● Literature
16.In this period, the sources of literature are usually the local native town folk.
• Japanese Period ● Spanish Period
• American Period ● Pre-Colonial Period
17.It is lengthy narrative that has the role of heroes and damsel in distress.
• Myth ● Epic
18.It discusses occurrence on the earth and how things on earth were created.
• Myth ● Epic
19.It is the story of mortals who has supernatural powers.
• Legend ● Myth
• Fable ● Epic
20.The year when Alejandro Roces received an award as National Artist of the Philippines for
Literature.
• 1976 ● 1997
• 2014 ● 2003
21.The year when Nick Joaquin received an award as National Artist of the Philippines for Literature.
• 1997 ● 2014
• 1976 ● 2003
22.The year when Cirilio Bautista received an award as National Artist of the Philippines for
Literature.
• 1976 ● 2014
• 2003 ● 1997
23.This story discusses discrimination and racism during American period.
• The Bamboo Dancers ● The God Stealer
• Oh How to Find Silence in the World ● Summer Sosltice
24.This is the title of the literary piece of Nick Joaquin that sent him to Hong Kong to be a scholar.
• The Sorrow of Vaudeville ● La Naval De Manila
• Summer Solstice ● Tribune
25.This is another term for short short story.
• Chick Lit ● Graphic Novel
• Flash Fiction ● Blog
26.This is a regularly updated online journal.
• Flash Fiction ● Graphic Novel
27.The theme of the genre encompasses horror, drama and science fiction works.
• Blog ● Speculative Fiction
• Graphic Novel ● Chick Lit
28.It utilizes picture in narrating a long story.
• Graphic Novel ● Speculative Fiction
29.It is a literary piece that is written by women for women; plot is lighthearted, smart and funny.
• Speculative Fiction ● Graphic Novel
30.This author is a college professor in University of Naga who has written the poem “Sidok”.
• Alice Munro ● Rolando Tolentino
• Estelito Jacob ● Junot Diaz
31.This is a Canadian writer and wrote the short story “Voices”.
• Estelito Jacob ● Alice Munro
• Laurel Fantauzzo ● Junot Diaz
32.This is the author of “Under My Invisible Umbrella”.
• Cirilio Bautista ● Laurel Fantauzzo
• Alice Munro ● F. Sionil Jose
33.This author is a college instructor in University of the Philippines Film Institute who has written
“Sakit ng Kalingkingan”.
• Rolando Tolentino ● Estelito Jacob
• Junot Diaz ● Jose Garcia Villa
34.This is a Dominican-American writer and author of “Apocalypse”.
• Estelito Jacob ● Cirilio Bautista
• Junot Diaz ● Rolando Tolentino
FILL IN THE BLANKS. Write your answer on the space provided before each number.
1. A lyric poem or a song for mourning or for death is called_____.
2. _____ is a form of narrative literature that includes stories of gods, and goddesses, supernatural
elements and supernatural powers.
3. Before it was termed as alibata, the early form of writing of our ancestors was the _____
4. The first book published in the Philippines is entitled __________.
5. _________________ is considered the “great orator” of the Propaganda Movement.
6. A Japanese Literature consisting of three lines with seventeen syllables and uses natureas topic
is ______________.
7. _____________ are the first aboriginal settlers in the Philippines.
8. An epic from Panay that recounts the story of the exploits of the three Demigodbrothers namely
Labaw Dongon, Humadapnon and Dumalapdap is entitled _________.
9. The first editor of La Solidaridad was __________________.
10. Literature came from the word _________, which means letter.
11. During the first part of the Spanish Colonization, the focus of literature was on ______.
12. A story put together through an exchange of letters like the Urbana and Felisa is called
__________.
13. The first tagalog dictionary written by Fr. Pedro de San Buenaventura is called ______.
14. A literature in written form that describes the life and sufferings of Jesus Christ wasthe
________________.
15. The presentation of the search of Virgin Mary and St. Joseph for the shelter wherein todeliver
the baby Jesus was termed as _____________.
16. One of Francisco Baltazar’s masterpiece that describes the tyranny in the kingdom of Albanya
is entitled _________________.
17. During the American Period, __________ were the American soldiers who became theteachers
of the Filipinos.
18. ______________ is Literary known as the “Father of the National Language Grammar” .
19. ______________ is popularly known as “The Great Writer of the Propaganda” movement.
20. A dramatic play depicting the triumph of the Christians over the Muslims is the______.
1. Doctrina Christiana: Fr. Juan de Placencia; Nuestra Señora del Rosario:__
2. Spanish Regime: Spanish Language; Japanese Regime:
3. (Alibata) 3: vowels; __________: consonants
4. Hudhud in Aliguyon: Mountain Province; ____________: Maranao
5. Tuwaang: Binata ng Sakadna; ____________________________: Pumbakhayon
6. Noli Me Tangere: Jose P. Rizal ; Pag-ibig sa Tinubuang Lupa: ______
7. Hymn of National Anthem: Julian Felipe ; Lyrics of National Anthem : ________
8. “Kartilya ng Katipunan:Emilio Jacinto ; El Verdadero Decalogo: _______
9. Americans: English Alphabet ; Spaniards:___________
10. Psalms of Mary: Flores De Mayo ; Pasyon: _____________
Read the following sentences carefully. Write TRUE if it expresses the correct idea. If the
statement is wrong, change the word/s to make the sentences correct.
1) On the year 1927, the modernization of the National language took place
2) Cenakulo is dramatic poetry that depicts the life and sufferings of Jesus Christ
3) Stories with moral lessons that commonly used animals as characters are calledparables.
Lualhati Bautista is considered as the Mother of Modern Short Stories in thePhilippines.
4) One of the remarkable works of Lope K. Santos is entitled “Banaag at Sikat”
5) “Fliptop battle” which popular to today’s youth is the modernized form of Balagtasan.
6) The blog site where the opinions of anyone can be freely expressed through theinternet.
Narrative poetry is the type of poetry presented on a stage in front of theaudience.
7) “Ang Panday” is a masterpiece of Iñigo Ed Regalado , the “Poet of the Laborers”. Epigrams
are figurative language which have been customarily used andserved as laws or rules on
good behaviour by our ancestors.
8) A story that tells something about gods and goddesses and their supernaturalpowers is Epic.
Liwayway is the official magazine of the propaganda movement.
9) A La Juventud Filipina is an inspiring poem written by Dr. Jose P. Rizal whichwas considered
as his crowning glory as a young poet.
10) Spain’s reply to the Cry of the Philippines is a poem consisted of 84 stanzaswritten by Marcelo
H. del Pilar.
11) Nuestra Señora Del Rosario was the second book published in the Philippinesthat contains
the biographies of saints, novenas, and questions and answersabout religion.
Give the figures of speech in the following sentences.

1. You are the “apple of my eyes”.
2. Sturdy and strong, the Filipinos are like the molave.
3. If you want the moon, I will get it for you.
4. He is working so hard because he has ten mouths to feed.
5. Oh Holy Night, the stars are brightly shining
6. He is the black sheep of the family.
7. A sea of humanity flooded the EDSA during the People Power Revolution.
8.You are so beautiful; your face has many craters.
9. Twinkle, twinkle little star; how I wonder what you are.
10. “A tree whose hungry mouth is pressed against the earth’s sweet flowering breast.
Match column A with column B. Write the word of the correct answer.
Column A Column B
1) Dimasalang a) Piping Dilata.
2) Huseng Sisiw b) Jose Rizalb.
3) Naning c) Jose Dela Cruzc.
4) Taga Ilog d) Jose Corazon De Jesusd.
5) Potacio e) Mariano Poncee.
6) Agapito Bagumbayan f) Antonio Lunaf.
7) Jomapa g) Juan Lunag.
8) Huseng Batute h) Andres Bonifacioh.
9) Dimasilaw i) Jose Maria Panganibani.
10) Plaridel j) Emilio Jacinto j.
11) Laong Laan k) Marcelo H. del Pilark.
12) Kalipulako l) Emilio Aguinaldol.
13) Pupdoh m) Manuel L. Quezon
14) Dolores Manapat
Enumeration: Write your answer at the back of this page.

1-3. Members of the “triumvirate”
4-5. Two general classification of literature.
6-10 The five surviving epics of the Philippines from the Pre-colonial times
7-9 The first three aboriginal settlers in the Philippines (in order)
10-13 The different periods of literature in the Philippines (in order)
14-18 The different alphabets / system of writings in the Philippines (in order)
19-22 List at least 4 of the works or writings of Dr. Jose P. Rizal
23-25 Different kinds of Poetry
26-30 Significant Contributions of the Spaniards to the Philippine literature.
Lesson 4
PHILIPPINE LITERATURE IN THE
POSTWAR AND CONTEMPORARY PERIOD
Postwar and Contemporary Literature. Postwar and contemporary literature include all literary
works written and published in the Philippines from 1946.
After World War II, the Philippines had to deal with the economy and the need for rehabilitation and
reconstruction of infrastructures. There was political, economic, and social confusion, as well as great
poverty, and these issues found their way into the short stories and novels during that time.
During the postwar period, Filipino writers got their inspiration from American teachers and were
able to learn their techniques, which also helped in mastering the English language.
Writers wrote fiction that focused on courageous deeds as well as the sacrifices and suffering in the
lives of Filipinos. It was also common for writers to write about the experiences of the Filipino people
under the Spanish and American rule and the Japanese Occupation. Other subjects and themes
include:
• religious faith superstitions
• Fantasy social problems
• poverty Politics
• nationalism morality
Literary Works. Philippine literature flourished even more during the postwar and contemporary
period. Writers were able to produce short stories, novels, essays, and poems that continue to be
read by Filipinos today.
Examples: Some works written in the postwar and contemporary period are:
• 1947. May Day Eve by Nick Joaquin,
• 1983. Waywaya by F. Sionil Jose
• 1948. We Filipinos Are Mild Drinkers by Alejandro Roces,
• 1965. The Return by Edith L. Tiempo, History and Philippine Culture by Horacio de la Costa
• 1947. Without Seeing the Dawn by Stevan Javellana
Explanation:
1947. Nick Joaquin, a National Artist for Literature awardee, wrote articles under the name of
Quijano de Manila. His short story "May Day Eve," published in 1947, is about love in a patriarchal
society. It also made use of magic realism.
F. Sionil Jose, one of the most widely read Filipino writers in English, wrote the short story
"Waywaya," which is about pre-Hispanic society and the people’s struggle for moral order.
Alejandro Roces, a Filipino author, essayist, and dramatist, wrote the short story "We Filipinos Are
Mild Drinkers." This story focuses on the drinking habits and culture of Filipinos and Americans.
Edith L. Tiempo's poem "The Return" is a sentimental piece that talks about life in old age.
Horacio de la Costa wrote the essay "History and Philippine Culture," which emphasizes the
importance of understanding and presenting a nation’s culture.
Stevan Javellana wrote the first postwar Filipino novel in English, Without Seeing the Dawn. This
novel narrates what people experienced during World War II under the Japanese rule in the
Philippines.
Philippine Literature in the Post-War and Contemporary Period
FRANCIS C. MACANSANTOS
PRISCILLA S. MACANSANTOS
1946. Ginto Sa Makiling – a novel by Macario Pineda, is the first work of note that appeared after
the second world war. In plot, it hews close to the mode of romantic fantasy traceable to the awits,
koridos and komedyas of the Balagtas tradition. But it is a symbolical narrative of social, moral and
political import. In this, it resembles not only Balagtas but also Rizal, but in style and plot it is closer
to Balagtas in not allowing the realistic mode to restrict the element of fantasy.
Novels by writers in English that dealt with the war experience:

• 1947. Stevan Javellana’s Without Seeing the Dawn (1947), and Edilberto Tiempo’s Watch in
the Night. Both novels hew closely to the realist tradition. Lazaro Francisco, the eminent
Tagalog novelist of the pre-war years, was to continue to produce significant work.
• 1932. He revised his Bayaning Nagpatiwakal, refashioning its plot and in sum honing his work
as a weapon against the policies that tended to perpetuate American economic dominance
over the Philippines.
• 1948. The updated novel was titled Ilaw Sa Hilaga.
• 1950. He was to produce three more novels.Sugat Sa Alaala reflects the horrors of the war
experience as well as the human capacity for nobility, endurance and love under the most
extreme circumstances.
• 1956. Maganda Pa Ang Daigdig deals with the agrarian issue,
• 1962. Daluyong deals with the corruption bred by the American-style and American-educated
pseudo-reformers. Lazaro Francisco is a realist with social and moral ideals. The Rizal
influence on his work is profound.
• 1963. The poet Amado Hernandez, who was also union leader and social activist, also wrote
novels advocating social change. Luha ng Buwaya deals with the struggle between the
oppressed peasantry and the class of politically powerful landlords.
• 1969. Mga Ibong Mandaragit deals with the domination of Filipinos by American industry
Unfortunately, the Rizalian path taken by Lazaro Francisco and Amado Hernandez with its social-
realist world-view had the effect of alienating them from the mode of the highly magical oral-epic
tradition. Imported social realism (and, in the case of Amado Hernandez, a brand of socialist
empiricism), was not entirely in touch with the folk sentiment and folk belief, which is why the Tagalog
romances (e.g., Ginto Sa Makiling, serialized in the comics), were far more popular than their work.
It was Philippine Literature in English which tapped the folk element in the Philippine unconscious to
impressive, spectacular effect. Nick Joaquin, through his neo-romantic, poetic and histrionic style, is
reminiscent of the dramas of
Balagtas and de la Cruz. His dizzying flashbacks are cinematic in effect, ironically quite Hollywood-
ish, serving always to beguile and astonish.
Francisco Arcellana, his younger contemporary, was a master of minimalist fiction that is as native
as anything that could be written in English, possessing the potent luminosity of a sorcerer’s rune.
Wilfrido Nolledo, fictionist-playwright growing up in the aura of such masters, was the disciple who,
without conscious effort, created a school of his own. His experiments in plot and plotlessness, his
creation of magical scenes, made splendorous by a highly expressive language, easily became the
rage among young writers who quickly joined (each in his/her own highly original style) the Nolledo
trend. Among these poetic fictionists of the 1960’s was Wilfredo Pasqua Sanchez, Erwin Castillo,
Cesar Ruiz Aquino, Resil Mojares, Leopoldo Cacnio and Ninotchka Rosca. Of them all, only the last
two did not publish verse. Their non-realistic (even anti-realistic) style made them perhaps the most
original group of writers to emerge in the post-war period. But such a movement that slavishly used
the American colonists’ language were called decadent.
Post-war poetry and fiction was dominated by the writers in English educated and trained in writers’
workshops in the United States or England. Among these were the novelists Edilberto and Edith
Tiempo (who is also a poet), short-fictionist Francisco Arcellana, poet-critic Ricaredo Demetillo, poet-
fictionist Amador Daguio, poet Carlos Angeles, fictionists N.V.M. Gonzales and Bienvenido N.
Santos. Most of these writers returned to the Philippines to teach. With their credentials and solid
reputations, they influenced the form and direction of the next generation mainly in accordance with
the dominant tenets of the formalist New Critics of America and England.
Even literature in the Tagalog-based national language could not avoid being influenced or even
assimilated. College-bred writers in Filipino like Rogelio Sikat and Edgardo Reyes saw the need to
hone their artistry according to the dominant school of literature in America of that period, despite
the fact that the neo-Aristotelian formalist school went against the grain of their socialist orientation.
• 1944. Poet-critic Virgilio Almario, in a break-away move reminiscent of Alejandro Abadilla,
and in the formalist (New Critical) mode then fashionable, bravely opined that Florante at
Laura, Balagtas’ acknowledged masterpiece, was an artistic failure.
• 1980. Almario revised his views.
The protest tradition of Rizal, Bonifacio and Amado Hernandez found expression in the works of
Tagalog poets from the late 1960’s to the 1980’s, as they confronted Martial Law and repression.
Among these liberationist writers wereJose Lacaba, Epifanio San Juan, Rogelio Mangahas,
Lamberto Antonio, Lilia Quindoza, and later, Jesus Manuel Santiago. The group Galian sa Arte at
Tula nurtured mainly Manila writers and writing during some of the darkest periods of Martial Law.
Meanwhile, behind the scenes on the printed page, oral literature flourished in the outlying
communities. Forms of oral poetry like the Cebuano Balak, the Ilokano Bukanegan, the Tagalog
Balagtasan, and the SamalTinis-Tinis, continued to be declaimed by the rural-based bards, albeit to
dwindling audiences. In the late 1960’s, Ricaredo Demetillo had, using English pioneered a linkage
with the oral tradition. The result was the award-winning Barter in Panay, an epic based on the
Ilonggo epic Maragtas. Inspired by the example, other younger poets wrote epics or long poems,
and they were duly acclaimed by the major award-giving bodies. Among these poets were writers in
English like
• 1968. Cirilo Bautista (The Archipelago),
• 1970. Artemio Tadena (Northward into Noon)
• 1977. Domingo de Guzman (Moses).
However, except for Demetillo’s modern epic, these attempts fall short of establishing a linkage with
the basic folk tradition. Indeed, most are more like long meditative poems, like Eliot’s or Neruda’s
long pieces. Interest in the epic waned as the 1980’s approached. The 1980’s became a decade of
personalistic free verse characteristic of American confessional poetry. The epic “big picture”
disappeared from the scene, to be replaced by a new breed of writers nourished by global literary
sources, and critical sources in the developed world. The literary sources were third world poetry
such as that of Neruda, Vallejo and Octavio Paz. In fiction, the magic-realism of Borges, Garcia
Marquez and Salman Rushdie, among others, influenced the fiction of Cesar Aquino, Alfred Yuson,
and poet-fictionist Mario Gamalinda.
On the other hand, the poets trained in American workshops continue to write in the lyrical-realist
mode characteristic of American writing, spawned by imagism and neo-Aristotelianism. Among these
writers are the poet-critics Edith L. Tiempo, Gemino Abad, Ophelia A. Dimalanta and Emmanuel
Torres. Their influence can be felt in the short lyric and the medium-length meditative poem that are
still the Filipino poet’s preferred medium. Some contemporary poets in English such as Marjorie
Evasco and Merlie Alunan, derive their best effects from their reverence for the ineluctable image.
Ricardo de Ungria’s and Luisa Aguilar Cariño’s poems, on the other hand, are a rich confluence of
imagism, surrealism and confessionalism.
The Philippine novel, whether written in English or any of the native languages, has remained social-
realist.
• 1966. Edgardo Reyes’ Sa Mga Kuko ng Liwanag, for instance, is a critique of urban blight,
and Edilberto K. Tiempo’s To Be Free is a historical probe of the western idea of freedom in
the context of indigenous Philippine culture.
• 1972. Kerima Polotan Tuvera’s novel The Hand of the Enemy, a penetratingly lucid critique
of ruling-class psychology, is entirely realistic, if Rizalian in its moments of high satire,
although unlike the Rizalian model, it falls short of a moral vision.
Only a few novelists like Gamalinda, Yuson and Antonio Enriquez, can claim a measure of success
in tapping creative power from folk sources in their venture to join the third world magic-realist
mainstream.
But the poets of oral-folk charisma, such as Jose Corazon de Jesus, are waiting in the wings for a
comeback as astonishing as Lam-ang’s legendary resurrection. Modernist and post-modernist
criticism, which champions the literature of the disempowered cultures, has lately attained sufficient
clout to shift the focus of academic pursuits towards native vernacular literatures and on the
revaluation of texts previously ignored, such as those by women writers.
• 1997. Sa Ngalan Ng Ina, by prize-winning poet-critic Lilia Quindoza Santiago, is, to date, the
most comprehensive compilation of feminist writing in the Philippines.
Test. General Directions:
A. Read the directions carefully.
B. Follow the instructions in every test type.
C. On a separate sheet, write the letter that corresponds to your answer.
Instruction: Write only the letter of the correct answer.
1. The intellectual and philosophical studies made by the Greeks and the Romans are the
foundation of ___________literature.
• Asian ● African
• American ● European
2. Which of the following epic exhibited brutality, a common characteristics when raids and bloody
battles between tribes are a part of life?
• Beowulf ● Nibelungenlied
• Gulliver’s Travels ● La Chanson de Roland
3. Which of the following are the common themes found in medieval literature?
• Use of fragmentation
• Concerned with the use of physical force
• Characterized by the appreciation of nature
Use of paradox or self - contradictory movement
4. What period in European literature marked the emergence of three dominant cultures:
Christianity, Islam and Germanic invaders
• Medieval ● Modernism
• Renaissance ● Romanticism
Read.
The West Wind
It’s a warm wind, the west wind, full of birds’ cries;
I never hear the west wind but tears are in my eyes.
For it comes from the west lands, the old brown hills,
And April’s in the west wind, and daffodils.
It’s a fine land, the west land, for hearts as tired as mine;
Apple orchards blossom there, and the airs’ like wine.
There is cool green grass there where men may lie at rest;
And the thrushes are in song there, fluting from their nest…
5. In the first line, what is the literary device in the words “warm wind, the west wind”
• Rhyme ● Rhythm
• Alliteration ● Onomatopoeia
6. In the last line, which word is an example of onomatopoeia?
• Nest ● Song
• Fluting ● Thrushes
7. The words “my eyes” uses what sound device?
• Rhyme ● Repetition
• Alliteration ● Onomatopoeia
8. This kind of description which appeals to one or more of the five senses is
called_____________.
• Similes ● Allusions
• Imagery ● Metaphors
9 - 12. Identify the figure of speech used in each sentence. Choose your answer from the box
below.
A. Simile B. Hyperbole C. Metaphor D. Personification
9. After a good night sleep, I felt like a million dollars.

10. Dale’s smile was as bright as the sunshine.
11. He roared with the force of a thousand lions.
12. Life is a journey; travel it well.
Read.
A Prayer From The Womb - by Saju Abraham
Why did you tear me off you,
When you knew I’d die without you?
I promised you peaceful sleep,
But you wouldn't hear me.
You were in the midst of planning your future.
I promised I wouldn't pull at your gown,
Nor test my vocal cords when I'm hungry.
But still you didn't let me be.
I promised I would behave when your friends visit,
And when you're on the phone or in the kitchen.
But you still threw me out of your system.
Why mama, why? Am I so unagreeable?
I don't keep it against you mama.
I know that now you know.
A Letter from an Unborn Baby
Hi mom! How are you? I am doing just fine, thanks. Only a few days have gone by since I
was conceived and I am now growing in your tummy. To tell you the truth, I can’t explain how
happy I am to know that you are my mom. It also makes me proud to know that I was conceived
out of love. I’m sure I am going to be the happiest baby alive.
Mommy, a month has gone past and I have started to notice how my body is forming. I
know I am not much to look at now but just wait and see – I’ll make you so proud! Even though I am
feeling happy, I sense that something is wrong! You seem to be having strange thoughts that leave
me restless and worried; but I am sure everything is going to be okay! Don’t despair!
Two and a half months have gone by mom, I now have hands that I can use to play
with. Oh, I am so happy! Mommy, please tell me what’s wrong? Why are you crying so much lately?
Why do you and dad argue every time you meet up with one another? Don’t you guys want me
anymore? I’m going to do everything I can to make you want me…
Three months have now past mom, but you still seem to be so sad. I am not sure what is going
on… I am so confused. Today we went to see the doctor and he booked an appointment for you
tomorrow. I don’t understand why I am feeling so good and you aren’t mom!
Mommy, where are we going? What’s happening? Mommy, this is not normally the time that
you take your afternoon nap; don’t lie down. Besides, I am not tired! I still want to play! Uh!!! What
is this thing doing inside of my house?! Is it a new toy? Hey! It’s sucking up my house…
Please… don’t tug at me! No… don’t hit me! You’re hurting me! Can’t you see that I am
still small?! I can’t defend myself! Mommy!!! Stop them – that’s my hand!!! Mommy, my leg…
they are ripping it out!!! Defend me, mom!!! Help me, mom!!! Tell them to stop, I promise I’ll stop
kicking them if they do. How is it possible that someone can be doing this to me? Oh mommy, I can’t
go on anymore… h-he…lp me…
Seventeen years have gone by since you made that fateful decision. Now you still suffer
over the very thought of it. Please don’t cry… I know you’re still hurting but you are not
alone. Mommy, if you are still sad, you can try getting away from all the daily pressures of work
and family and joining a spiritual retreat to focus on the hurt you are feeling. In that retreat,
you can come to terms with your decision to let me go, and find forgiveness and peace of
mind.
Love you lots,
Your baby
13-14. What message does each selection express?

15-16. Why do you think these texts were written from the perspective of the unborn child? Explain
your answer.
17-18. In both selections, the speakers make promises to the mother. Compare these promises.
Which is more positive in tone?
19-20. What words do the speakers in both selections use to refer to their mother? What would the
effect be if these terms of endearment were replaced with a formal term such as mother? Explain
your answer.
21- 28. In the blank before each number, write P if the remark about the text refers to the “Prayer
from the Womb”, L if it refers to the “A Letter from an Unborn Baby,” and PL if it has to do with the
two selections.
______21. Addressed mainly to the mother
______22. Contains remarks made during the different stages of pregnancy
______23. Contains questions by the speaker about what’s happening to him
______24. Questions the mother’s decision for the abortion
______25. Raises pleas for help from the mother
______26. Features promises to avoid the bothersome demands for attention
______27. Includes a postscript acknowledging the feelings of the mother about the abortion
______28. Forgives the mother for the decision she made
29. Which of the following statement is true?

• Rig Veda is a handbook for priests in the performance of sacrificial truths.
• Sanskrit is an ancient Indian language that was used for writing epics and religious texts.
• Yahur Veda is a collection of 1,028 sacred hymn and divided into ten books called
Mandalas
• Atharva Veda is a collection of chants and melodies drawn from the Rig Veda and drawn
to be sung during worship
30. Which of the following statement is correct?
• Mark Twain is regarded as the father of realism in American literature
• Edgar Allan Poe was a prominent writer who uses a humorous style of writing.
• George Ripley coined the term American Renaissance in 1941.
• America during the Modern period was regarded as the “Golden Age” of American
literature.
Read.
Young Adult Science Fiction in the Post-Human Age
By Jeffrey S. Kaplan
In “Is He Still Human? Are you? Young Adult Science Fiction in the Post Human Age,” researcher
Elaine Ostry analyzes science fiction texts written for young adults which deal with the tenets of our
new biotechnology age: cloning, genetic engineering, prolongation of life. Specifically, these new
engaging reads discuss the ethics implied in the study of biotechnology - such as the creation of a
super class of human beings and the delicate crossing of the boundaries of human and animal, and
that age-old fascination, human and machine. Ostry[..].concludes that most of these contemporary
adolescent fictional texts place “nurture above nature” and promote a safe and traditional vision of
humanity.
Still, danger lurks. As Ostry writes, the potential of biotechnology to change human form is ever
present in young adult literature that recently has seen science fiction come to life. What their parents
and grandparent had always thought of as science fiction, says Ostry, are now realities or possible
realities. […] Everything from artificially created limbs to designer babies is very real for today’s
adolescents, bringing into question, the eternal question, “what does it mean to be human?” After all,
if biotechnology can change the human form and mind, and machines can become a reasonable
part of the human body, then the term post-human body or “ techno body” is a distinct entity.[…]
Clearly, scientific advances have changed the map of young adult literature. Young people on a
quest to define their identity, Ostry writes, have never become more soul-searching and desperate.
After all, if we as a society are altering our definition of what it means to be human, we can only begin
to understand the relevance of our desire to truly understand ourselves in light of our newfound
technology. Today, thanks to advances in DNA labeling, we can determine much of a person before
he or she is even born, or created by other means. And most science fiction for young adults attempt
to mediate the post-human age to young audiences. What are the pros and cons of cloning? Of what
values is the human versus the new, “improved” human? And how can young people really know
what it means to be fully alive if all they know are people who have been genetically engineered? As
Ostry insists, these are all intriguing questions and all indicative of how much young adult literature
has changed dramatically in the last twenty years.
31-32. Why is our present age referred to as a “post-human age?”

33-34. Why is the term “biotechnology” used in connection with its outputs, namely “post-human
body” or “techno-body” and new “improved” human?
35-37. How do these terms describe the kind of characters or superheroes presented in young adult
literature nowadays?
38. Which paragraph summarizes the findings of Ostry’s research?
39. In which paragraph does Kaplan pose a problem that also has to be considered given the findings
of Ostry’s research?
40. Which paragraph raises additional questions concerning the super class of human beings in the
stories that young adults read today?
41-43. State whether or not you like the selection. Cite details anchored on the text to support your
stand.
A Corner In My Soul A Corner In My Soul
There's a corner in my soul that I call my own, There's this hidden corner in my soul,
Read. That I turn to when I'm faced with hamlet's dilemma, That gives me breathing space when life sucks,
That signals when I'm at the crossroads, That gives me company when lonely,
That leads me by hand when I'm lost. That's always by my side rain or shine.
There's a corner in my soul that's my very own, There's a corner in my soul that I call my own,
That lifts me up when I'm down, That introverts and lets me bask in glory,
That rushes in solace when sorrow strikes, That never robs me of those rare moments of joy.
That soaks up my tears when I need to cry. That let me be me.
44-50. Imagine that you are the “corner of the soul” of the persona in the poem. Write a letter of
appreciation to a person you run to when you have problems or when you feel lonely.
RUBRICS
5 Points No grammatical error, substantial content with unity and coherence
4 Points Very few grammatical error, significant content with unity and coherence
3 Points Few grammatical error, significant content with unity and coherence
2 Points Several grammatical error, considerable content with unity and coherence
1 Point Numerous grammatical error, illogical content
Lesson 5
Philippine Literature Authors
LIFE AND WORKS OF JOSE GARCIA VILLA
Jose Garcia Villa

• August 5, 1908, born in Manila. Jose Garcia Villa was a Filipino literary critic, poet, painter,
and short story writer.
• 1973. He gained both local and international recognition for his works. He was named as the
National Artist for Literature and he was also a recipient of the Guggenheim Fellowship.
• During his college years, he wrote Man Songs, a collection of controversial poems that was
considered too bold by the University of the Philippines and became the ground for his
suspension from the said institution.
• 1929. Some of his well-known literary works are "Mir-i-nisa" won in the Philippines Free Press
• 1933. "Footnote to Youth" was published.
• July 7, 1997. He died.
Jose Garcia Villa as a Poet. As a poet, Jose Garcia Villa is known for introducing the reversed
consonance rhyme scheme. According to Villa, in this method, the last sounded consonants of the
last syllable, or the last principal consonant of a word, are reversed for the corresponding rhyme.
• Thus, a rhyme for light would be words such as tile, tall, tale, etc.
• He is also known for his comma poems, where he employed a comma after every word.
• He used the pseudonym Doveglion, which is derived from dove, eagle, lion.
Example: One of Jose Garcia Villa's well-known works is "Footnote to Youth."
a. Setting - The short story is set in a small town.

b. Plot -
• Exposition - Dodong, a seventeen-year-old boy, tells his parents that he wants to
marry his girlfriend Teang.
• Rising Action - Teang secretly regrets marrying Dodong at a young age. She wonders
what can happen if she has married Lucio, who is nine years older than Dodong.
• Climax - Dodong wonders why life does not get to fulfill all of a youth’s dreams.
• Falling Action - Blas tells Dodong about his plan to marry Tona.
• Conclusion - Dodong wants to keep Blas from marrying Tona, but he cannot do
anything about it. He feels sorry for Blas.
c. Theme - The story focuses on the consequences of marrying at an early age and starting a family.
Explanation:
• In the story "Footnote to Youth," Dodong is the symbol for the Filipino youth. His decision to
marry his love interest, Teang, at the age of seventeen demonstrates the passion of teenagers
when it comes to relationships.
• Those of the younger generation usually strive for new pursuits to learn things on their own,
often rejecting their elders’ guidance. From the story, it is depicted that lessons are learned
through experience. Dodong, as well as Teang, had many realizations when he became a
parent.
Tips
• In analyzing a literary work, make sure that you read it thoroughly and analyze it well.
• Study the background of the author, as this will give you insights regarding the setting of the
story and the historical and/or social influences of the time and place in which the author lived.
• Analyze the concepts presented in the literary work by relating them to practices and traditions
in the Philippines or in the place used as the setting of the story.
Works of Jose Garcia Villa:

Footnote to Youth
by: Jose Garcia Villa
The sun was salmon and hazy in the west. Dodong thought to himself he would tell his father
about Teang when he got home, after he had unhitched the carabao from the plow, and led it to its
shed and fed it. He was hesitant about saying it, he wanted his father to know what he had to say
was of serious importance as it would mark a climacteric in his life. Dodong finally decided to tell it,
but a thought came to him that his father might refuse to consider it. His father was a silent
hardworking farmer, who chewed areca nut, which he had learned to do from his mother, Dodong’s
grandmother.
He wished as he looked at her that he had a sister who could help his mother in the housework.
I will tell him. I will tell it to him.
The ground was broken up into many fresh wounds and fragrant with a sweetish earthy smell.
Many slender soft worm emerged from the further rows and then burrowed again deeper into the
soil. A short colorless worm marched blindly to Dodong’s foot and crawled clammilu over it. Dodong
got tickled and jerked his foot, flinging the worm into the air. Dodong did not bother to look where
into the air, but thought of his age, seventeen, and he said to himself he was not young anymore.
Dodong unhitched the carabao leisurely and fave it a healthy tap on the hip. The beast turned
its head to look at him with dumb faithful eyes. Dodong gave it a slight push and the animal walked
alongside him to its shed. He placed bundles of grass before it and the carabao began to eat. Dodong
looked at it without interest.
Dodong started homeward thinking how he would break his news to his father. He wanted to
marry, Dodong did. He was seventeen, he had pimples on his face, then down on his upper lip was
dark-these meant he was no longer a boy. He was growing into a man – he was a man. Dodong felt
insolent and big at the thought of it, although he was by nature low in stature.
Thinking himself man – grown, Dodong felt he could do anything.
He walked faster, prodded by the thought of his virility. A small angled stone bled his foot, but
he dismissed it cursorily. He lifted his leg and looked at the hurt toe and then went on walking. In the
cool sundown, he thought wild young dreams of himself and Teang, his girl. She had a small brown
face and small black eyes and straight glossy hair. How desirable she was to him. She made him
want to touch her, to hold her. She made him dream even during the day.
Dodong tensed with desire and looked at the muscle of his arms. Dirty. This fieldwork was
healthy invigorating, but it begrimed you, smudged you terribly. He turned back the way he had come,
then marched obliquely to a creek.
Must you marry, Dodong?”
Dodong resented his father’s question; his father himself had married early.
Dodong stripped himself and laid his clothes, a gray under shirt and red kundiman shorts, on
the grass. Then he went into the water, wet his body over and rubbed at it vigorously. He was not
long in bathing, then he marched homeward again. The bath made him feel cool.
It was dusk when he reached home. The petroleum lamp on the ceiling was already lighted and
the low unvarnished square table was set for supper. He and his parents sat down on the floor around
the table to eat. They had fried freshwater fish, and rice, but did not partake of the fruit. The bananas
were overripe and when one held the,, they felt more fluid than solid. Dodong broke off a piece of
caked sugar, dipped it in his glass of water and ate it. He got another piece and wanted some more,
but he thought of leaving the remainder for his parent.
Dodong’s mother removed the dishes when they were through, and went with slow careful steps
and Dodong wanted to help her carry the dishes out. But he was tired and now, feld lazy. He wished
as he looked at her that he had a sister who could help his mother in the housework. He pitied her,
doing all the housework alone.
His father remained in the room, sucking a diseased tooth. It was paining him, again. Dodong
knew, Dodong had told him often and again to let the town dentist pull it out, but he was afraid, his
father was. He did not tell that to Dodong, but Dodong guessed it. Afterward, Dodong himself thought
that if he had a decayed tooth, he would be afraid to go to the dentist; he would not be any bolder
than his father.
Dodong said while his mother was out that he was going to marry Teang. There it was out, what
we had to say, and over which he head said it without any effort at all and without self-consciousness.
Dodong felt relived and looked at his father expectantly. A decresent moon outside shed its feebled
light into the window, graying the still black temples of his father. His father look old now.
“I am going to marry Teang,” Dodong said.
His father looked at him silently and stopped sucking the broken tooth, The silenece became
intense and cruel, and Dodong was uncomfortable and then became very angry because his father
kept looking at him without uttering anything.
“I will marry Teang,” Dodong repeated. “I will marry Teang.”
His father kept gazing at him in flexible silence and Dodong fidgeted on his seat.
I asked her last night to marry me and she said… “Yes. I want your permission… I… want…
it…” There was an impatient clamor in his voice, an exacting protest at his coldness, this indifference.
Dodong looked at his father sourly. He cracked his knuckles one by one, and the little sound it made
broke dully the night stillness.
“Must you marry, Dodong?”
Dodong resented his father’s question; his father himself had married early. Dodong made a
quick impassioned essay in his mind about selfishness, but later, he got confused.
“You are very young, Dodong.”
“I’m seventeen.”
“That’s very young to get married at.”
“I… I want to marry… Teang’s a good girl…
“Tell your mother,” his father said.
“You tell her, Tatay.”
“Dodong, you tell your Inay.”
“You tell her.”
“All right, Dodong.”
“All right, Dodong.”
“You will let me marry Teang?”
“Son, if that is your wish… of course…” There was a strange helpless light in his father’s eyes.
Dodong did not read it. Too absorbed was he in himself.
Dodong was immensely glad he has asserted himself. He lost his resentment for his father, for
a while, he even felt sorry for him about the pain I his tooth. Then he confined his mind dreaming of
Teang and himself. Sweet young dreams…
Dodong stood in the sweltering noon heat, sweating profusely so that his camiseta was damp.
He was still like a tree and his thoughts were confused. His mother had told him not to leave the
house, but he had left. He wanted to get out of it without clear reason at all. He was afraid, he felt
afraid of the house. It had seemingly caged him, to compress his thoughts with severe tyranny. He
was also afraid of Teang who was giving birth in the house; she face screams that chilled his blood.
He did not want her to scream like that. He began to wonder madly if the process of childbirth was
really painful. Some women, when they gave birth, did not cry.
In a few moments he would be a father. “Father, father,” he whispered the word with awe, with
strangeness. He was young, he realized now contradicting himself of nine months ago. He was very
young… He felt queer, troubled, uncomfortable.
Dodong felt tired of standing. He sat down on a saw-horse with his feet close together. He
looked at his calloused toes. Then he thought, supposed he had ten children…
The journey of thought came to a halt when he heard his mother’s voice from the house.
Some how, he was ashamed to his mother of his youthful paternity. It made him feel guilty, as
if he had taken something not properly his.
“Come up, Dodong. It is over.”
Suddenly, he felt terribly embarrassed as he looked at her. Somehow, he was ashamed to his
mother of his youthful paternity. It made him feel guilty, as if he has taken something not properly
his. He dropped his eyes and pretended to dust off his kundiman shorts.
“Dodong,” his mother called again. “Dodong.”
He turned to look again and this time, he saw his father beside his mother.
“It is a boy.” His father said. He beckoned Dodong to come up.
Dodong felt more embarrassed and did not move. His parent’s eyes seemed to pierce through
him so he felt limp. He wanted to hide or even run away from them.
“Dodong, you come up. You come up,” his mother said.
Dodong did not want to come up. He’d rather stayed in the sun.
“Dodong… Dodong.”
I’ll… come up.
Dodong traced the tremulous steps on the dry parched yard. He ascended the bamboo steps
slowly. His heart pounded mercilessly in him. Within, he avoided his parent’s eyes. He walked ahead
of them so that they should not see his face. He felt guilty and untru. He felt like crying. His eyes
smarted and his chest wanted to burst. He wanted to turn back, to go back to the yard. He wanted
somebody to punish him.
“Son,” his father said.
And his mother: “Dodong..”
How kind their voices were. They flowed into him, making him strong.
“Teanf?” Dodong said.
“She’s sleeping. But you go in…”
His father led him into the small sawali room. Dodong saw Teang, his wife, asleep on the paper
with her soft black hair around her face. He did not want her to look that pale.
Dodong wanted to touch her, to push away that stray wisp of hair that touched her lips. But
again that feeling of embarrassment came over him, and before his parent, he did not want to be
demonstrative.
The hilot was wrapping the child Dodong heard him cry. The thin voice touched his heart. He
could not control the swelling of happiness in him.
“You give him to me. You give him to me,” Dodong said.
Blas was not Dodong’s only child. Many more children came. For six successive years, a new
child came along. Dodong did not want any more children. But they came. It seemed that the coming
of children could not helped. Dodong got angry with himself sometimes.
Teang did not complain, but the bearing of children tolled on her. She was shapeless and thin
even if she was young. There was interminable work that kept her tied up. Cooking, laundering. The
house. The children. She cried sometimes, wishing she had no married. She did not tell Dodong this,
not wishing him to dislike her. Yet, she wished she had not married. Not even Dodong whom she
loved. There had neen another suitor, Lucio older than Dodong by nine years and that wasw why
she had chosen Dodong. Young Dodong who was only seventeen. Lucio had married another. Lucio,
she wondered, would she have born him children? Maybe not, either. That was a better lot. But she
loved Dodong… in the moonlight, tired and querulous. He wanted to ask questions and somebody
to answer him. He wanted to be wise about many thins.
Life did not fulfill all of Youth’s dreams.
Why must be so? Why one was forsaken… after love?
One of them was why life did not fulfill all of the youth’ dreams. Why it must be so. Why one
was forsaken… after love.
Dodong could not find the answer. Maybe the question was not to be answered. It must be so
to make youth. Youth must be dreamfully sweet. Dreamfully sweet.
Dodong returned to the house, humiliated by himself. He had wanted to know little wisdom but
was denied it.
When Blas was eighteen, he came home one night, very flustered and happy. Dodong heard
Blas’ steps for he could not sleep well at night. He watched Blass undress in the dark and lie down
softly. Blas was restless on his mat and could not sleep. Dodong called his name and asked why he
did not sleep.
You better go to sleep. It is late,” Dodong said.
Life did not fulfill all of youth’s dreams. Why it must be so? Why one was forsaken after love?
“Itay..” Blas called softly.
Dodong stirred and asked him what it was.
“I’m going to marry Tona. She accepted me tonight.
“Itay, you think its over.”
Dodong lay silent.
I loved Tona and… I want her.”
Dodong rose from his mat and told Blas to follow him. They descended to the yard where
everything was still and quiet.
The moonlight was cold and white.
“You want to marry Tona, Dodong said, although he did not want Blas to marry yet. Blas was
very young. The life that would follow marriage would be hard…
“Yes.”
“Must you marry?”

Blas’ voice was steeled with resentment. “I will mary Tona.”
“You have objection, Itay?” Blas asked acridly.
“Son… non…” But for Dodong, he do anything. Youth must triumph… now. Afterward… It will
be life.
As long ago, Youth and Love did triumph for Dodong… and then life.
Dodong looked wistfully at his young son in the moonlight. He felt extremely sad and sorry for
him.
SUMMARY.
"Footnote to Youth" begins with the main character Dudong working in the fields. He takes no
real joy in his dusty work; he is too distracted, impatient to get home and tell his father that he has
asked Teang, the woman he loves, to marry him—and she has accepted. He is preoccupied by
feelings of adulthood and masculinity, believing himself to be grown and capable. On the way home,
he stops to bathe in a creek, a symbolic gesture: he is beginning fresh, starting a new chapter in his
life. At home, we see the labors of the home and the trials of old age: Dudong regrets that he doesn't
have a sister to help his mother with the housework; his father has a terrible and persistent toothache.
When he tells his father his news, the latter tries to talk him out of it—Dudong is young, only 17. But
because he is only 17, he is headstrong and sure of what he wants, so his father allows him to marry.
Nine months later, Teang gives birth to a boy, whom they name Blas. As Dudong waits out
the childbirth in the yard, he frets to himself about what it will mean to be a father, and he imagines
himself having ten children. He is afraid and despondent rather than excited at the prospect, and he
is embarrassed to be a father and to have a child and to feel these things, though he does develop
a sense of paternal pride upon seeing the baby.
Over the course of six years, Teang gives birth six more times, which takes its toll on both her
body and Dudong's. Both become old beyond their years, and both regret having married so young;
Teang bitterly wishes she had accepted the hand of another suitor, who in those six years had
married but had no children. Dudong does not want all these children, and one night he stays awake
wondering why life can be so cruel when youth is so full of dreams, so full of hope and expectation.
This same night, Blas, now 18, comes home late, and is unable to sleep. Dudong asks him
what has him so agitated, and sees that the roles of father and son are now reversed: where once
Dudong was the stubborn, impatient youth who thought that to marry was to live, and his father was
the cautious, objective voice of reason, now Dudong's son has asked his girlfriend to marry him, and
Dudong wants desperately for the young man to reconsider. But he will not reconsider, and Dudong
resignedly gives his consent. Thus the impatience of youth perpetuates itself, along with the wisdom
of years. Though love may at first overcome, life soon catches up.
MORAL LESSON: Marriage in a very young age when you are not yet prepared with the obligations
accompanied to it will give birth to more problems. Therefore before entering to a married life, we
must not only think twice but a hundred times....Moral lesson about the short story ';footnote to
youth';?
The moral of the story is that marriage is something that is taken seriously. Because marriage
aside from being a sacrament is something that is full of responsibilities; when you decide to get
married and you do marry someone, there is no turning back. To the youth, there is lots of things that
should be taken into consideration before marrying of course including their readiness to take the
responsibilities of raising a family and being able to respond to their needs. Because marriage is not
a move that they can cancel when they feel like doing so.
Quiz. Answer the following questions.
1. Explain the title. In what way is it suitable to the story?

2. What is the predominant element in the story- plot, theme, character, and setting? Explain.
3. Who is the single main character about whom the story centers? Explain.
4. What sort of conflict confronts the leading character or characters? Explain.
5. How is the conflict resolved?
6. How does the author handle the characterization? Justify
7. Who tells the story? What point of view is used? Explain
8. Where does the primary action take place? Explain.
9. What is the time setting for the action? Period of history? Season? Time of the day?
10. How much time does the story cover?
11. How does the story get started? What is the initial incident?
12. Briefly describe the rising action of the story?
13. What is the high point or the climax of the story?
14. Discuss the falling action of the story or the close of the story.
15. Does this story create any special mood? Explain.
16. Is this story realistic or true to life? Explain your answers by giving examples.
17. Are the events or incidents of the plot presented in flashback or in chronological order?
18. Was the selection written as a short story or is it a condensation or excerpt? Is it
19. What is the general theme of the story? What is the underlying theme? Name any other stories
with a similar theme?
20. Identify yourself with any of the characters? Explain.
21. Does the story contain any following elements? Explain.
22. Was there a villain in the story? A hero? A dynamic character? Describe.
23. Can you find any examples of figurative language? Cite them from the selection.
24. Does the story contain a single effect or impression for the reader? If so, what?
25. Name one major personality trait of each leading character, and tell how the author makes the
reader conscious of its trait.
26. Does the story have a moral? If not, what do you think the purpose of the author was?
LIFE AND WORKS OF CARLOS P. ROMULO
Carlos P. Romulo was a Filipino diplomat, statesman, journalist, and soldier.

• January 14, 1898 born in Intramuros, Manila and grew up in Camiling, Tarlac.
• He was the first Filipino journalist who was awarded with the Pulitzer Prize in Journalism.
• He was also the first Asian who served as the president of the United Nations General
Assembly.
• August 1941. "I am a Filipino" is one of the many essays written by Carlos P. Romulo. It was
published in The Philippines Herald.
• 1944. He wrote the book entitled I Saw the Fall of the Philippines, in which he narrated his
personal experiences as an aide-de-camp to General Douglas MacArthur in Corregidor. This
book was followed by a sequel, I See the Philippines Rise, a journalistic account of the
Philippine War.
• Among his other famous literary works are Mother America: A Living Story of Democracy, a
discussion of his political ideals about American democracy in the Philippines, and I Walked
with Heroes, his autobiography.
• 1982. He was conferred as National Artist for Literature.
• December 15, 1985. He died
About the Essay I am a Filipino

• I am a Filipino is one of the valuable contributions of Carlos P. Romulo to Philippine literature.
Analyzing it would help one understand what he thinks of the Filipino and what it means to be
one.
• In the essay, the author speaks of the pride and dignity of the Filipino race, which is something
he wants the future generation to uphold and cultivate.
• The essay also explains the Filipino identity as a product of the fusion of Western culture and
Eastern culture.
• Carlos P. Romulo stresses that the fight for freedom sprung up from one’s pride of being a
Filipino. He takes pride in the bravery and sacrifices of the heroes who fought for freedom like
Lapu-Lapu , Diego Silang, Jose Rizal , Gregorio del Pilar, Antonio Luna, and Manuel L.
Quezon.
• He also emphasizes the beauty of the Philippines as blessed with bountiful natural resources
and colorful history and culture.
• General Carlos P. Romulo. “For my grandchildren . . . and all children—this book is written
with hopes of the time to come, when no child shall lie down in terror or waken to hunger, but
shall know himself as a being of unique value in a safer and kindlier world.”
Works of General Carlos P. Romulo.:

I Am a Filipino
I Am a Filipino, Romulo’s most famous literary work, sheds light on national identity through an
examination of the Filipino’s fervent dream for freedom from colonial rule. Frequently chosen by
aspiring speakers for elocution contests and memorized by grade-school students all over the
country, the piece awakens Filipino nationalism, transcending linguistic and ethnic boundaries, and
resonating in the hearts of people from all walks of life.
I Am a Filipino first appeared in The Philippines Herald in August 1941, only one month before
Romulo wrote the first of a series of eight articles that won him the 1942 Pulitzer Prize for journalism.
The essay takes the Filipino reader on a quick walk through history–from his Malayan roots to the
battles once fought by heroes– building momentum until the piece reaches its climax: “I am a Filipino
born of freedom and I shall not rest until freedom shall have been added unto my inheritance–for
myself and my children and my children’s children–forever.”
I am a Filipino–inheritor of a glorious past, hostage to the uncertain future. As such I must prove
equal to a two-fold task–the task of meeting my responsibility to the past, and the task of performing
my obligation to the future.
I sprung from a hardy race, child many generations removed of ancient Malayan pioneers.
Across the centuries the memory comes rushing back to me: of brown-skinned men putting out to
sea in ships that were as frail as their hearts were stout. Over the sea I see them come, borne upon
the billowing wave and the whistling wind, carried upon the mighty swell of hope–hope in the free
abundance of new land that was to be their home and their children’s forever.
This is the land they sought and found. Every inch of shore that their eyes first set upon, every
hill and mountain that beckoned to them with a green-and-purple invitation, every mile of rolling plain
that their view encompassed, every river and lake that promised a plentiful living and the fruitfulness
of commerce, is a hallowed spot to me.
By the strength of their hearts and hands, by every right of law, human and divine, this land and
all the appurtenances thereof–the black and fertile soil, the seas and lakes and rivers teeming with
fish, the forests with their inexhaustible wealth in wild life and timber, the mountains with their bowels
swollen with minerals–the whole of this rich and happy land has been, for centuries without number,
the land of my fathers. This land I received in trust from them and in trust will pass it to my children,
and so on until the world is no more.
I am a Filipino. In my blood runs the immortal seed of heroes–seed that flowered down the
centuries in deeds of courage and defiance. In my veins yet pulses the same hot blood that sent
Lapulapu to battle against the first invader of this land, that nerved Lakandula in the combat against
the alien foe, that drove Diego Silang and Dagohoy into rebellion against the foreign oppressor.
That seed is immortal. It is the self-same seed that flowered in the heart of Jose Rizal that
morning in Bagumbayan when a volley of shots put an end to all that was mortal of him and made
his spirit deathless forever, the same that flowered in the hearts of Bonifacio in Balintawak, of
Gergorio del Pilar at Tirad Pass, of Antonio Luna at Calumpit; that bloomed in flowers of frustration
in the sad heart of Emilio Aguinaldo at Palanan, and yet burst fourth royally again in the proud heart
of Manuel L. Quezon when he stood at last on the threshold of ancient Malacañan Palace, in the
symbolic act of possession and racial vindication.
The seed I bear within me is an immortal seed. It is the mark of my manhood, the symbol of
dignity as a human being. Like the seeds that were once buried in the tomb of Tutankhamen many
thousand years ago, it shall grow and flower and bear fruit again. It is the insignia of my race, and
my generation is but a stage in the unending search of my people for freedom and happiness.
I am a Filipino, child of the marriage of the East and the West. The East, with its languor and
mysticism, its passivity and endurance, was my mother, and my sire was the West that came
thundering across the seas with the Cross and Sword and the Machine. I am of the East, an eager
participant in its spirit, and in its struggles for liberation from the imperialist yoke. But I also know that
the East must awake from its centuried sleep, shake off the lethargy that has bound his limbs, and
start moving where destiny awaits.
For I, too, am of the West, and the vigorous peoples of the West have destroyed forever the
peace and quiet that once were ours. I can no longer live, a being apart from those whose world now
trembles to the roar of bomb and cannon-shot. I cannot say of a matter of universal life-and-death,
of freedom and slavery for all mankind, that it concerns me not. For no man and no nation is an
island, but a part of the main, there is no longer any East and West–only individuals and nations
making those momentous choices which are the hinges upon which history resolves.
At the vanguard of progress in this part of the world I stand–a forlorn figure in the eyes of some,
but not one defeated and lost. For, through the thick, interlacing branches of habit and custom above
me, I have seen the light of the sun, and I know that it is good. I have seen the light of justice and
equality and freedom, my heart has been lifted by the vision of democracy, and I shall not rest until
my land and my people shall have been blessed by these, beyond the power of any man or nation
to subvert or destroy.
I am a Filipino, and this is my inheritance. What pledge shall I give that I may prove worthy of
my inheritance? I shall give the pledge that has come ringing down the corridors of the centuries,
and it shall be compounded of the joyous cries of my Malayan forebears when first they saw the
contours of this land loom before their eyes, of the battle cries that have resounded in every field of
combat from Mactan to Tirad Pass, of the voices of my people when they sing:
• Land of the morning,
• Child of the sun returning–
• Ne’er shall invaders
• Trample thy sacred shore.
Out of the lush green of these seven thousand isles, out of the heartstrings of sixteen million
people all vibrating to one song, I shall weave the mighty fabric of my pledge. Out of the songs of the
farmers at sunrise when they go to labor in the fields, out of the sweat of the hard-bitten pioneers in
Mal-lig and Koronadal, out of the silent endurance of stevedores at the piers and the ominous
grumbling of peasants in Pampanga, out of the first cries of babies newly born and the lullabies that
mothers sing, out of the crashing of gears and the whine of turbines in the factories, out of the crunch
of plough-shares upturning the earth, out of the limitless patience of teachers in the classrooms and
doctors in the clinics, out of the tramp of soldiers marching, I shall make the pattern of my pledge:
“I am a Filipino born to freedom, and I shall not rest until freedom shall have been added unto
my inheritance—for myself and my children and my children’s children—forever.”
Summary. Carlos P. Romulo is a profound writer who wrote the essay I am a Filipino, which is one
of the great contributions to Philippine literature not only because it shows one’s love for his country
and freedom but also of being proud as a Filipino.
LIFE AND WORKS OF FRANCISCO ARCELLANA
Francisco Arcellana is a Filipino teacher and a contemporary writer.

• He is one of the prominent Filipino fictionists in English.
• He is known for innovating and exploring new literary forms and experimenting with different
techniques in short story writing.
• He was a member of the group The Veronicans, which was composed of influential Filipino
writers who aimed to use sensible literature in order to create a greater impact on the
Philippines.
• He was also the first director of the University of the Philippines Creative Writing Center.
• Some of his well-known literary works are the short stories "The Man Who Would Be Poe,"
"Death in a Factory," "A Clown Remembers," "The Mats," and "Lina."
• 1990. Awarded as the National Artist for Literature.
• His short stories "Flowers of May," "Christmas Gift," and "The Mats," were adapted as
screenplays.
• Analyzing a writer's literary works will help in identifying his contributions to Philippine
literature.
Example: Below are details regarding Francisco Arcellana's "The Mats."

a. Setting - The short story is set in the afternoon until evening at the house of the Angeles
family.
b. Plot –
i. Exposition - Mr. Angeles comes from a periodic inspection trip in Mariveles.
During the trip, he writes to his family and gets them excited about the
exceptionally beautiful and colorful mats he bought from an artist.
ii. Rising Action - Upon arriving, he gives the mats one by one to his children.
Each mat is woven with his child’s name and symbols. They are all happy to
receive the mats.
iii. Climax - There are three mats that are to be unfolded. In a loud voice, he offers
the three mats to his dead children named Josefina, Victoria, and Concepcion.
iv. Falling Action - Nana Emilia, anguished, said he should not have bought mats
for them, but Mr. Angeles insists that they must be remembered.
v. Conclusion - The children feel the tension and see the grief in the face of Mr.
Angeles and the sadness of Nana Emilia. The father unfolds the three mats in
silence.
c. Theme - Coping with the death of a loved one is a struggle. Commemorating his or her
life is painful, but it must be faced with courage and faith.
Explanation: Francisco Arcellana presented the story using a distinct style. He focused on the
characters' actions and dialogues to reveal the innermost feelings and motives of the characters,
which set the dramatic tone of the short story.
Works of Francisco Arcellana
I Wait For You
I wait for you ready to leap at you from every corner at every turn gathered to spring at you from
the shadow of every tree this is an ambush but I am not the assassin I wait, not with a knife, but
love, heavy, dripping in my hands.
Prayer Close all open things, Lord.
Open all closed things.
All those who have long received, let them give.
All those who have long given, let them receive.
All those too long apart, let them come together.
All those too long together, sunder them.
Let the wise be fools for once, Lord, And let the fools speak their minds.
Affirm the long-denied, Lord. Fulfill the unfulfilled.
The Other Woman
I have watched her in stillness, how still and white and long.
I have followed her about with my eyes, how silent and swift and strong.
When she is still, it is musical. When she moves, it is a song.
I have looked at her fearlessly, openly, and without shame: it is quite true that I desire
you, it is quite true that lust is my name.
I know, I always know where she is, when she is around and about: it is in my body like a
shout. soft hair, white brow, eyes young nose fine, sweet lips, sweet mouth, tongue proud chin,
neck white, graceful, long downy nape, smooth, shoulders strong under the arms soft, arms long
sweet and exquisite, white and strong wrist small and supple hands neat, exquisite fingers - petals
of the lotus breasts like apples white body shining, sweet and long hips broad and ample, wide and
strong thighs like pillars, white and long legs like cedars, firm and strong feet that are sweet toes
like the rose I know her name, I have called to her but she does not hear, she will not listen. I call to
her but she does not come. The Lord is my shepherd but I want.
To Touch You
TO touch you to kiss you to press against you anywhere to break open your lips to drink deep from
your mouth to feed long on your tongue to root between your breasts to brace against your body to
thrust between your thighs powerfully long to die deep and then to sleep my right hand resting
lightly on your left hip
Summary. Francisco Arcellana is a Filipino fictionist who demonstrated his craftsmanship in writing
great literary pieces such as "The Mats," a story that highlights Filipino family values and pictures an
interesting character coping with the death of loved ones. In this short story, he uses writing
techniques such as emphasizing the characters’ actions and dialogues to reveal their inner motives
and emotions.
LIFE AND WORKS OF NESTOR VICENTE MADALI (N.V.M.) GONZALEZ
N.V.M. Gonzalez
• Nestor Vicente Madali Gonzalez is an award-winning Filipino poet, essayist, fictionist,
journalist, editor, and teacher of creative writing.
• He is the first president of the Philippine Writers’ Association.
• He is also honored as one of the great Filipino writers who advanced literary traditions and
culture.
• 1997. He was a recipient of the following awards: The Republic Cultural Heritage Award, the
Jose Rizal Pro-Patria Award, the Carlos Palanca Memorial Award for Literature, and the
National Artist
• Award for Literature.
• Some of his published works are
• 1947. Seven Hills Away is a collection of short stories that sketch the daily lives of the Filipino
kaingeros in his hometown province, Mindoro.
• 1954. Children of the Ash-Covered Loam and Other Stories
• 1949. The Bamboo Dancers is a diasporic novel that features the challenges faced by
Filipinos in America.
Carefully analyzing the works of a writer will help in determining what his works have
contributed to literature.
Example: "Children of the Ash-Covered Loam" is a short story that depicts Filipino family practices
and beliefs in a rural setting.
a. Setting - The story is set in a provincial place where kaingin is a common practice.
b. Plot
• Exposition - the story begins one sunny afternoon when Tarang’s father arrives with
a pig to be taken care of by Tarang, a seven-year-old boy.
• Rising Action - Tia Orang, an old midwife, sees Tarang and tells him to inform his
mother of her passing by.
• Climax - Tatay and Nanay, Tarang’s parents, together with their neighbors are all set
for performing religious rites after kaingin (burning of trees). They believe that these
practices will take away all evil spirits and will give them a bountiful harvest. Tatay
lays the pullet’s neck and lets the streaks of blood drop on the ash-covered loam.
• Falling Action- After the clearing of the land, Tia Orang visits the family and performs
hilot on Nanay and tells her that she is ready to bear a child. She also shares stories
of evil ones and spirits.
• Conclusion - Tarang, half-awake, hears the noise outside, gets up, and accidentally
strikes a tree stump with his big toe. The hurt does not concern him, for he is more
interested in seeing how life emerge from the land as the rice grains peek through the
dirt
c. Theme. Death forms new life. Death and new formations of life are recurring motifs in the
story. When a living thing dies, a new life emerges. The story paints a cycle of life and death
for the family. The kaingin practice and the killing of the pullet as a ritual are some forms of
deaths that the family believes will bring new life like a bountiful harvest and another child.
Explanation:
The use of words such as kaingin, hilot, Nanay, and Tatay is part of N.V.M. Gonzalez's writing
style, as even his other works showcase terms that are unique to the setting of the story. Analyzing
a story will help readers see details such as this that will give them ideas regarding the writer's
contributions to Philippine literature.
N.V.M. Gonzalez is known as a local colorist writer. Local color is a literary technique that
features the unique regional traditions of people and emphasizes the ordinary events in their lives.
This is used by N.V.M Gonzalez to present the sociocultural dimensions of Filipino families and
farmers in the provinces. In "Children of the Ash- Covered Loam," words that show local color include
kaingin, hilot,
Works of N.V.M. Gonzalez

Kalutang
by N.V.M. Gonzalez
It is said among the Hanunoos the body and soul are not readily separated.
But the body is not too easily fooled. Nor is it Even misled or ill-directed
I have lived with the Hanunoos; I grew up among them, I have watched them walk down the
jungle trail, interminably making song with two wooden sticks. The song helps the soul know where
the body is.
Through stretches of fern and embankments of vine, across clearings and second growth, the
music travels. Its maker pauses, looking idly up at the sky or swatting a stubborn leach off his leg.
The beating of sticks changes the rhythm from slow to fast; it may even dissolve altogether into
silence, coming through again, in a lilting, graceful theme or as a trembling against the stillness of
sun-mottled leaves. And then there is a scuffing of dry twigs or the crunch of tree bark. For our
Hanunoo is once more on the move, now
With body and soul together.
What follows is an account of my own journey, with my own two wooden sticks. At first I did not
know where I was going. Eventually, I did and I continued on, assured not only of the direction I was
taking but also of the presence of a self entire.
By the Mountainside
by Allan G. Aquino
Know the strength of where you come from, the master taught.
All you have to do is see.
I rest my palms, I forgive my borrowed visions.
I ponder the science of bamboo.
I behold everything and know, with better eyes, the lostness he wanted me to find. Redeemed, I
name him the Optometrist and the Lens.
We look toward the kinship of Christ and the Buddha.
Then, before years drifted past, I left him with a namaste, hoping to love the
two or three books he’d yet to write.
But I still believe in brighter places.
See, now, the lands, lifetimes, the unwritten dreamscapes.
However they’d come and go, watch closely and you’ll see how they’re in our blood, real as the
mountain his gaze carved well.
These Are My Only Pictures

by Emily Porcincula Lawsin
NVM 1992 Hayward, Photo by Emily Lawsin in my stacks of old milk crates, arms of photo albums
awaken. my favorite pose: NVM and Narita Gonzalez feeding Asian American writers at their home
in Hayward.
the elder spins stories while playing his fiddle; saying poems like this should not be read aloud, lest
they become a bad riddle.
but my tears read on.
i cannot picture him lying in state in Manila–
nor in a Greenhills hospital, probably not far from where i visited
my Auntie Auring almost four years ago.
that trip afforded this first-time-balikbayan a better photo: when NVM took August Espiritu and me
to the Press Awards, with wife Narita on his arm,
introduced us as his students and writers from “The States”.
earlier that day, he hosted us at his home on the U.P. Diliman campus,
Narita’s paintings abound,
had his granddaughter drive us to a restaurant in Quezon City,
where we ate blue crab karé-karé,
while serenaded by a violin quartet
and a window of synchronized swimmers: true NVM style.
he had just launched Work on the Mountain
and between bites, told August that he would republish Winds of April
so he could write the preface.
i should have taken a picture then, this moment of history floating by–
NVM’s silver hair laughing.
it was the same smile and laugh that we shared four years earlier
when he won a teaching fellowship at UCLA,
courtesy of the Rockefellers– befitting of this international treasure.
on the second day of class,
NVM said he found a photograph of when we first met:
at a FANHS history conference in Sacramento two years earlier, dubbed “The Legacy Lives” —
indeed. i told him that i “met” him long before that, through his stories assigned at Seattle’s Franklin
High, an amazing, life-changing feat,
considering America’s eurocentric curriculum. every day, i thank Bathala for blessing me so. i’ve
told this story before, when we toasted NVM at the Philippine Consulate on Wilshire:
how we used to butt heads in the classroom, how i disagreed with his ancient philosophy that
without centuries of tradition and unified form,
“There is no such thing as ‘Filipino American Literature’,”
when in all respects, we considered him its Dean,
or at the very least, its Grandfather.
i never knew if he argued out of modesty or tenacity
to makes us all ponder and “paint more pictures with words.”
on the outside, he would find me shopping at the Bruin Bookstore,
always ask me, “What are you reading this week?”, and
“Are you writing? What are you writing today?”
he would urge me to sit for coffee, even on a hundred degree day,
saying the hot liquid provides a “balanced equilibrium to the elements.”
since he hailed from the tropical Philippines,
who was i to not believe him?
we rode the campus shuttle to his faculty apartment.
on the bus, young students cleared a seat for NVM and his cane,
slowly slurring at me, “Your grandpa can sit here,”
as if he didn’t understand English! only in America, i fumed.
but NVM just smiled his wide smile,
saying a proud thanks,
continued debating my thoughts, interspersed with his ideas of sailing with his bride to Catalina,
wondering out loud if it would be anything like
a boat ride to his hometown province of Romblon. i had been there through his stories and
laughed: i doubt it. the other passengers listened,
either shocked by his perfect Grammar,
or mesmerized by his lyrical tone;
i should have taken a picture then.
when he returned to the Southland last year, this time a UCLA President’s Fellow, i saw him only
once.
we missed each other between his dialysis
and my writing paralysis from teaching;
i think i took a picture then.
by coincidence, my former Cal State Northridge student, Allan,
enrolled as NVM’s only student,
during his first quarter in grad school too,
sharing coffees and stories
that only silver-haired grandfathers can tell.
these remain my only pictures.
Dung-aw at the Wailing Wall

by Narita M. Gonzalez
I raised my left hand, pressed it against the Wailing Wall. With head bowed, feet firm in foreign
land, I let loose sobs long suppressed, lamentations hoarded too long.
I become mute with my grief unexpressed.
Without the black “manta” to cover me
I started my “dung’aw” here in Jerusalem.
I was unashamed, uninhibitedly free.
To pour out despair that overcame me
As I stood numb at your grave
At the lonely “Libingan ng mga Bayani.
Oh, my beloved
Why did you leave so soon.
We have not talked about death!
Only of books to finish,
Of places to see,
Of letters to write to friends.
Don’t leave me now,
My need of you will not end.
Regrets continue to haunt me.
Why did I not wrap my arms
Around your all white casket
When the grave diggers carried you away?
Why did I not shout out my pain
As the earth shovel by shovel
Filled your grave in the mowed terrain?
There were no good-byes.
This is so incomplete!
We did not seal our parting
With a final lingering kiss.
I can only remember
That gentle look you gave me
As I mimicked a patient, old lady,
I wanted you to laugh
Forget the pain,
As your blood was being-cleaned
By a kidney machine.
You smiled, then closed your eyes,
Remained unconscious until you died.
How can I forget that last smile?
I weep every time I recall your face.
For that was your goodbye
And I did not know it.
“Existential ache” they call it
Which I carry with me
Even as I laugh, pretend to be gay
The pain remains, it won’t go away.
How long I sobbed, how long my body heaved
As I wept loudly at the Wailing Wall,
One of a long line, women all in despair.
The sound of crying filled Jerusalem air
Like of chirping birds seeking to be free.
As I shifted my weight, my hand against the wall
I noticed at my right side, a lady in black gown
Sobbing aloud in another foreign tongue. I was weeping for a husband now gone. For half a
century, my beloved and loyal one. Here is a woman, too young to mourn Her left hand pressed
hard to the Wailing Wall. Then I drew my hand from the silent wall Young and old it linked us all,
Women with different kinds of pain
Women all weeping in vain.
I must leave now, my darling
Another woman unhappy too
Is waiting for my space
Here at the cold, silent wall.
I will continue at home, my “dung’aw,”
In Diliman or wherever I go
Quietly at my own Wailing Wall,
While my arms embrace the pillow
That once held your kind and noble head.
I will weep and long for you
At my side of our old half-empty cold bed.
Untitled
by N.V.M. Gonzalez
In April I shall be in the kaingin,

I shall scamper from one log to another;
In the worsening heat Some palm tree I shall seek;
I shall pick my steps upon the ash-covered ground, Then make my way
To the edge of the clearing,
There I shall wash The ashes from my feet
Homecoming
by Michele Gutierrez
My Lola Esmenia laid dead in in her own living room, lying in her coffin and waiting for her
children and grandchildren to return from each of their corners of the diaspora to bury her. I was
twenty-three years old, but had never been to my homeland, knowing about it only through the faded
photographs in my mother’s albums and the textbooks in my ethnic studies classes in college. I
travelled from Los Angeles to Bangui, my mother’s small hometown in Ilocos Norte at the
northernmost tip of the Philippines, and made the twenty-eight hour journey by plane, bus and
jeepney cab.
Their low murmurs question whether or not the slightly awkward girl before them is really the
same one in the pictures my mother had sent them all these years.
When I reach the small house my mother had lived in with her seven brothers and sisters, my
grandmother had already been dead for four days.
It is evening and I am a greeted by a brown sea of faces. Titas and uncles, cousins, kapitbahay
and kaibigan. Cousins of cousins with bright eyes and dark skin. Great grandaunts so old their
wrinkles have grown beautiful. Uncles with dark bottles of San Miguel beer always in their hands.
Once-strangers, now family.
Their low murmurs question whether or not the slightly awkward girl before them is really the
same one in the pictures my mother had sent them all these years.
My mother emerges from the crowd, “My daughter,” she says, “Isn’t she beautiful?”
A young girl twelve or thirteen years old, with skin paler than most others in the crowd comes
up to me and touches my face. “Manang, you are so beautiful. Like a movie star,” she says.
I have never been called beautiful, much less compared to a movie star. I wonder if she says
this simply to get in my good graces, or because she sees everyone who returns from America
through rose-colored lenses.
“No, I am not,” I say, and the girls pulls her fingertips away.
The brown sea of faces part before me to reveal my grandmother’s casket, the top half open
like a clamshell. While the outside is white, iridescent like a pearl, it is my grandmother, lying on the
pink satin interior that appears to shine. She is dressed in an ivory Filipiniana dress, the traditional
formal dress of the Philippines. Tiny pink and crimson flowers decorate the fine banana leaf fiber that
the transparent fabric her dress is made from. Butterfly sleeves puff up stiffly at my lola’s shoulders.
Her hair is pulled back tightly into a bun that props her head forward from the pillow it rests upon,
making her seem as if she is ready to rise at any moment.
“Say hello to your grandma, anak,” my mother says.
She walks directly to my grandmother’s coffin and lays one hand on her head as if my Lola was
merely sleeping. I can feel dozens of eyes on me, but I hesitate, because my grandmother does not
look like herself.
Could this really be her?
I had not seen my grandmother for years, since she had spent a year with us in the States,
taking care of me when I was just a child, right after my mother and father divorced. In my last
memories of her, she is with me at our house in Southern California, wearing a worn housedress and
smoking a cigar made out of dried banana leaves she had rolled herself, chastising me for being a
spoiled American girl for not finishing my rice.
“Do you know how lucky you are?” my grandmother asked me in her Ilocano dialect, “Children
in the Philippines are starving to death and here you are being picky.”
I could make out what she said, but could only answer in English, “I’m sorry, lola.”
She then hit me with her slippers, telling me the entire time, “This is for your own good.”
“Do you like it?” my cousin Verna asks me, pulling me out of the memory. My grandmother lived
with her too when Verna was younger, except all the way in Hononolu. Verna points to a white banner
hanging from the top of my grandmother’s casket. There are shiny blue words that read: You weren’t
the best, but you were all we had. Verna raises her hand up and I give her a high five. We laugh and
a few of those around us joined in.
Yes, this confirms it. This is the woman who refused to die in the States, insisting on making
the long trip home despite the deteriorating state of her body. This is the woman that bore and raised
a woman like my mother. This is the woman whose blood still runs in my veins. I accept all of this,
and walk towards what is left of her.
The undertakers have preserved her well in anticipation of the long wait she had before her,
waiting for all of us to arrive from the faraway places we call home.
“Say hello,” my mother tells me.
She places her free hand firmly on my back. I look down at my grandmother– her furrowed
brows forever frozen in place, her skin brown-gray except for a greenish patch on her arm where the
makeup used to conceal signs of her decay has been rubbed away by countless fingertips saying
goodbye. I put my hand on her casket, close my eyes, and greet her hello. I open my eyes, look
down at her, and I wish her goodbye.
I take my turn among the rest of my family, keeping my lola company as the waves of relatives
from abroad come sweeping in. The house is always filled with people. It is bad luck, they all say, to
leave my grandmother’s body alone unattended. Her spirit may come back and haunt us even after
she is long and buried.
I sit on the living room couch watching telenovellas and game shows, my grandmother’s body
at the center of all the festivities going on around her. She is never alone and the television is always
on. Small children run in and out of the house. In the field behind it, the men sit around tables, playing
poker in the shade during the day, and at night, by lantern light.
In the kitchen, Aunts prepare food. Dinuguan simmer in large pots as the women spoonful the
stew made out of pork’s blood unto steaming bowls of rice. Chocolate meat they call it. Pinakbet
stains the air with the smell of bitterness and bagoong. And dishes I have no names for.
The women gossip, not in whispers like American women, but in shouts. The Ilocano dialect is
harsh and Ilocano women headstrong, so when they gossip, they are loud and they always sound
angry.
On my second day there, I help the women in the kitchen, pulling the thick stems off the bitter
melon flowers for the pinakbet. My Auntie Girlie shows me how, holding a vine up with her right hand.
With her left hand she plucks all the flowers off it with one sweep of her clasped fingers.
I’m just a teacher’s assistant, I think. Blowing a whistle in the playground. Wiping runny noses.
Not a doctor. Never have been. Not even close.
Auntie Girlie is my mother’s cousin. They were close when they were younger, but haven’t seen
each other in decades. Their families had farmed the same plot of land my grandfather’s father had
left to his three sons.
Decades ago when my mother asked Auntie Girlie to leave the province with her and move to
Manila, my aunt decided to stay, and she’s never left. This is my first time meeting her, but she says
she feels like she’s known me since I was a baby. My mother had sent photos and talked about me
in her long distance calls home.
“You know your grandmother was very proud of you,” Auntie Girlie says.
“Really?” I ask, surprised.
I think about earlier in the day when I had explored the house and found my grandmother’s
bedroom. There was a collection of photographs taped to the wall above her bed, a collage of
wrinkled and faded faces of her eleven grandchildren. There were dozens of photos of us. School
photos and snapshots of us at various ages. There were photos of us as infants and toddlers at the
bottom of the collage, and then more pictures sprouted upwards, arranged haphazardly by my
grandmother over the years using nothing but scotch tape. The entire thing resembled a tree to me.
Her own personal family tree, I thought.
At the center of the trunk, I found a photo that even I didn’t have in my photo albums back
home. It was a picture of me as a toddler being held up by my father.
There were even more photos of myself higher up on the branches of the collage. The most
recent one taped on the uppermost branches of her collage— the high school graduation picture I
had taken just five years prior.
“She was,” my Auntie Girlie says, bringing me back to the kitchen and to the task of stripping
flowers off vines, “So very proud.”
“That’s nice to hear,” I say.
“When she was sick she told everyone not to worry, because you were going to come here and
heal her,” Auntie Girlie says.
“Why would she think that?” I ask.
“You’re mom told us that you’re a successful doctor. That you’d come. But your lola died, before
you could.”
I drop a handful of flowers onto the table and get up to find my mother.
“I’m not a doctor,” I say, “I make minimum wage at an elementary school helping a teacher with
her second graders.” I leave Auntie Girlie in the kitchen even though she asks me to stay, to talk
together some more. I search the house for my mother, my heart beating fast against my chest. I’m
just a teacher’s assistant, I think. Blowing a whistle in the playground. Wiping runny noses. Not a
doctor. Never have been. Not even close.
I imagine my grandmother during her last days still alive, lying on the couch and thinking I was
going to come stop her pain. Save her from dying. Postpone her death even just a little bit longer
with my stethoscope and some magic prescription pills.
I want to pummel my mother with my fists. I want to beat her down with words.
I want to shake the shit out of her.
I find her in the crowded living room talking and laughing with some of her sisters. “You’re telling
people I’m a doctor?” I yell over the soap opera playing on the television.
“Who told you that?” she asks surprised.
“Why would you tell my lola that?” I say, demanding an answer.
“Whoever told you that is a liar,” my mother says nonchalantly.
My aunts look at each other and shake their heads. Click their tongues. I want them to say
something, but they stay quiet, not wanting to say anything to their eldest sister or me, their sister’s
only child.
“You’re a liar,” I say, looking at my mother straight in the eyes.
I retreat to my grandmother’s bedroom. I want to lock the door, but it has no lock. I lie down. I
examine the photographs above the bed. I want to be that little girl, from the picture in the center of
grandmother’s family tree, looking back at me. The desire pulls the tears down my cheeks. I close
my eyes to catch them, and suddenly I am small again. Being carried in my father’s arms.
Smiling.
Tip. Since the terms used by local colorists may be unfamiliar to you, you should analyze and
infer their meaning by taking note of context clues in the story.
LIFE AND WORKS OF EDITH L. TIEMPO
Edith L. Tiempo
• Edith L. Tiempo was a Filipino writer in English. She was a poet, fiction writer, and literary
critic.
• She was known for using intricate and witty representations to portray significant human
experiences.
• Some of her well known poems are "The Return," a poem that describes the characteristics
of old age, "Lament for the Littlest Fellow," a poem that presents a metaphor to describe the
plight of a submissive wife under herdomineering husband, and "Bonsai," a poem that gives
a look at how tangible objects could be keepers of memories and emotions.
• As a fictionist, she was known for her moral profoundness. One of her remarkable short
stories, "The Black Monkey," won third prize in the Carlos Palanca Memorial Award. "The
Black Monkey," which is set during the time when guerrillas were fighting against the
Japanese during World War II, narrates the tormenting encounter of a woman with a monkey.
• She also wrote the novel A Blade of Fern, which depicts the problems of Filipino miners of
Nibucal in southern Philippines.
• 1999. She was awarded as the National Artist for Literature
• She founded with her husband the Silliman University National Writers Workshop, which
produced great young writers of her time.
Analyzing the literary work of a writer would help in determining what her contributions are
to literature.
Example: Below is an excerpt of Edith L. Tiempo's poem
"The Return."
As once he had circled this house in thirty counts, he would go thru this door among those old
friends and they would not shun Him and the tales he would tell, tales that would bear more than the
spare Testimony of willed wit and his grey hairs.
And he would live in the whispers and locked heads. Wheeling around and around turning
back was where he started: The turn to the pasture, a swift streak under a boy’s running; The swing,
up a few times and he had all the earth he wanted; The tower trees, and not so tall as he had
imagined;
The rocking chair on the porch, you pushed it and it started rocking, Rocking, and abruptly
stopped. He, too, stopped in the doorway, chagrined. He would go among them but he would not
tell, he could be smart, He, an old man cracking the bones of his embarrassment apart.
The excerpts cited in this material are copyrighted by their respective authors. Quipper
ensures that the use of these works has permission from their authors and this effort is ongoing.
Should you have concerns regarding the proper use of these works, or if you have not received
communication from us regarding this matter, please let us know immediately.
Explanation: Old age is the subject of the given poem. This poem describes the life of an old man
who loved to travel in his youth. The phrases dead years, skinny legs, and thirty counts denote the
physical weakness and isolation that the old man feels. The old man wants to visit his friends to bond
with them and share to them his travel stories and experiences. Hopelessly, he sees only the things
associated with old age: irritability and illness, rocking chair, pasture, and the tower tree.
The themes or messages of the poem are:

• Time is irreversible, and memories can only be remembered and cherished.
• Old people face physical weakness and emotional challenges such as feelings of isolation,
sadness, and frustration.
• Old age is an inevitable period in human growth and development.
Works of Edith Tiempo
Bonsai
Edith Tiempo
All that I love I fold over once
And once again and keep in a box
Or a slit in a hollow post or in my shoe.
All that I love?
Why, yes, but for the moment- And for all time, both.
Something that folds and keeps easy,
Son’s note or Dad’s one gaudy tie,
A roto picture of a queen,
A blue Indian shawl, even A money bill.
It’s utter sublimation,
A feat, this heart’s control Moment to moment
To scale all love down to a cupped hand’s size
Till seashells are broken pieces From God’s own bright teeth,
And life and love are real Things you can run and
Breathless hand over to the merest child.
The Black Monkey

by Edith L. Tiempo
Two weeks already she had stayed in the hunt on the precipice, alone except for the visits of
her husband. Carlos came regularly once a day and stayed three or four hours, but his visits seemed
to her too short and far between. Sometimes, after he had left and she thought she would be alone
again, one or the other of the neighbors came up unexpectedly, and right away those days became
different, or she became different in a subtle but definite way. For the neighbors caused a disturbed
balance in her which was relieving and necessary. Sometimes it was one of the women, coming up
with some fruits, papayas, perhaps, or wild ink berries, or guavas. Sometimes the children, to grind
her week’s supply of corn meal in the cubbyhole downstairs. Their chirps and meaningless giggles
broke the steady turn of the stone grinder, scraping to a slow agitation the thoughts that had settled
and almost hardened in the bottom of her mind. She would have liked it better if these visits were
longer, but they could not be; for the folks came to see her, yet she couldn’t come to them, and she,
a sick woman, wasn’t really with her when they sat there with her. The women were uneasy in the
hut and she could say nothing to the children, and it seemed it was only when the men came to see
her when there was the presence of real people. Real people, and she real with them.
As when old Emilio and Sergio left their carabaos standing in the clearing and crossed the
river at low tide to climb solemnly up the path on the precipice, their faces showing brown and
leathery in the filtered sunlight of the forest as they approached her door. Coming in and sitting on
the floor of the eight-by-ten hut where she lay, looking at her and chewing tobacco, clayey legs
crossed easily, they brought about them the strange electric of living together, of showing one to
another lustily across the clearing, each driving his beast, of riding the bull cart into the timber to load
dead trunks of firewood, of listening in a screaming silence inside their huts at night to the sound of
real or imagined shots or explosions, and mostly of another kind of silence, the kid that bogged down
between the furrows when the sun was hot and the soils stony and the breadth for words lay tight
and furry upon their tongues.
They were slow of words even when at rest, rousing themselves to talk numbingly and vaguely
after long periods of chewing.
Thinking to interest her, their talk would be of the women’s doings, soap-making and the salt
project, and who made the most coconut oil that week, whose dog has caught sucking eggs from
whose poultry shed, show many lizards and monkeys they trapped and killed in the corn fields and
yards around the four houses. Listening to them was hearing a remote story heard once before and
strange enough now to be interesting again. But it was last two weeks locatable in her body, it was
true, but not so much a real pain as a deadness and heaviness everywhere, at once inside of her as
well as outside.
When the far nasal bellowing of their carabaos came up across the river the men rose to go,
and clumsy with sympathy they stood at the doorstep spiting out many casual streaks of tobacco and
betel as they stretched their leave by the last remarks. Marina wished for her mind to go on following
them down the cliff to the river across the clearing, to the group of four huts on the knoll where the
smoke spiraled blue glints and grey from charcoal pits, and the children chased scampering monkeys
back into forested slopes only a few feet away. But when the men turned around the path and
disappeared they were really gone, and she was really alone again.
From the pallet where she lay a few inches from the door all she could set were the tops of
ipil trees arching over the damp humus soil of the forest, and a very small section of the path leading
from her hut downward along the edge of the precipice to the river where it was a steep short drop
of fifteen or twenty feet to the water. They used a ladder on the bushy side of the cliff to climb up and
down the path, let down and drawn up again, and no one from the outside the area could know of
the secret hut built so close to the guerilla headquarters. When the tide was low and then water
drained toward the sea, the river was shallow in some parts and the ladder could be reached by
wading on a pebbly stretched to the base of the cliff. At high tide an outrigger boat had to be rowed
across. They were fortunate to have the hiding place, very useful to them whenever they had to flee
from their hut on the knoll below, every time a Japanese patrol was reported by the guerillas to be
prowling around the hills.
Two weeks ago, in the night, they had fled up to the forest again, thinking a patrol had
penetrated. Marina remembered how she and Flavia and Flavia’s daughter had groped their way up
to the precipice behind their faster neighbors, how the whole of that night the three of them had
cowered in this dark hut while all around monkeys gibbered in the leaves, and pieces of voices from
the guerillas on the river pieced into the forest like thin splintered glass. And all the time the whispered
talk of their neighbors crouched in the crevices of the high rocks above them floated down like echoes
of the whispers in her own mind. Nobody knew the reason for the harm sounded by headquarters
unto the next morning when Carlos and two other guerillas paddled around the river from camp and
had told everyone to come down from their precipice and return to the huts; it was not enemy troops
but the buys chasing after the Japanese prisoner who had escaped.
Following the notice of Carlos, old Emilio and others went back to the knoll the day after the
alarm. She had stayed, through two weeks now. Sick and paralyzed on one side, she had to stay
where she was a liability to no one in case of danger. She had to stay until the Japanese prisoner
was caught, and if he had been able to slip across the channel to Cebu and a Japanese invasion of
this guerilla area was instigated, she would be safe in this hideout.
Listening closely for several nights, she had learned to distinguish the noises made by the
monkey in the tree nearest her door. She was sure the tree had only one tenant, a big one, because
the sounds it made were unusually heavy and definite. She would hear a precise rustle, just as if it
shifted once in its sleep and was quiet again, or when the rustling and the grunts were continuous
for a while, she knew it was looking for a better perch and muttering at its discomfort. Sometimes
there were precipitate rubbing sounds and a thud and she concluded it accidentally slipped and
landed on the ground. She always heard it arrive late at night, long after the forest had settled down.
Even now as she lay quietly, she knew the invisible group of monkeys had begun to come, she knew
from the coughing that started from far up to the slope, sound like wind on the water, gradually
coming downward.
She must have been asleep about four hours when she awoke uneasily, aware of movements
under the hut. Blackness had pushed into the room, heavily and moistly, sticky damp around her
eyes, under her chin and down the back of her neck, where it prickled like fine hair creeping on end.
Her light had burned out. Something was fumbling at the door of the compartment below the floor,
where the supply of rice and corn was stored in tall bins. The door was pushed and rattled cautiously,
slow thuds of steps moved around the house. Whatever it was, it circled the hut once, twice and stop
again to jerk at the door. It sounded like a monkey, perhaps the monkey in the tree, trying to break
in the door to the corn and rice. It seemed to her it took care not to pass the stairs, retracing its steps
to the side of the hut each time so she could not see it through her open door. Hearing the sounds
and seeing nothing, she could not see it through her open door. Hearing the sounds and seeing
nothing, she felt it imperative that she should see the intruder. She set her face to the long slit at the
base of the wall and the quick chilly wind came at her like a whisper suddenly flung into her face.
Trees defined her line vision, merged blots that seemed to possess life and feeling running through
them like thin humming wires. The footsteps had come from the unknown boundary and must have
resolved back into it because she could not hear them anymore. She was deciding the creature had
gone away when she saw a stooping shape creep along the wall and turn back, slipping by so quickly
she could deceive herself into believing she imagined it. A short, stooping creature, its footsteps
heavy and regular and then unexpectedly running together as if the feet were fired and sore. She
had suspected the monkey but didn’t feel sure, even seeing the quick shaped she didn’t feel sure,
until she heard the heavy steps turn toward the tree. Then she could distinguish clearly the rubbing
sounds as it hitched itself up the tree.
She had a great wish to be back below with the others. Now and then the wind blew
momentary gaps through the leaves and she saw fog from the river below, fog white and stingy,
floating over the four huts on the knoll. Along about ten in the morning the whole area below would
be under the direct that of the sun. The knoll was a sort of islet made by the river bending into the
horseshoe shape; on this formation of the two inner banks they had made their clearing and built
their huts. On one outer bank the guerilla camp hid in thick grove of madre-de-cacao and
undergrowth and on the other outer bank, the other arm of the horseshoe, abruptly rose the steep
precipice where the secret hut stood. The families asleep on the knoll were themselves isolated, she
thought; they were as on an island cut off by the water and mountain ranges surrounding them; shut
in with it, each one tossing his thought to the others, no one keeping it privately, no one really taking
a deliberate look at it in the secrecy of his own mind. In the hut by herself it seemed she must play it
out, toss it back and forth.
Threads of mist tangled under the trees. Light pricked through the suspended raindrops; the
mind carried up the sound of paddling from the river. In a little while him distinctly. Neena! Neena!
Her name thus exploded through the air by his voice came like a shock after hours of stealthy noises.
He took the three rungs of the steps in one stride and was beside her on the floor. Always he
came in a flood of size and motions and she couldn’t see all of him at once. A smell of stale sun and
hard walking clung to his clothes and stung into her; it was the smell of many people and many
places and the room felt even smaller with him in it. In a quick gesture that had become a habit he
touched the back of his hand on her forehead.
“Good,” he announced, “no fever.”
With Carlo’s presence, the room bulged with the sense of people and activity, pointing up with
unbearable sharpness her isolation, her fears, her helplessness.
“I can’t stay up here,” she told him, not caring anymore whether he despised her cowardice.
“I must go down. There is something here. You don’t know what’s happening. You don’t know, or
you won’t take me stay.”
He looked at her and then around the room as though her fear squatted there listening to
them.
“It’s the monkey again.”
“Man or monkey or devil, I can’t stay up here anymore.” “Something must be done,” he said,
“this can’t go on.” “I’ll go down and be with the others.”
He raised his head, saying wearily, “I wish that were the best thing, Neena, God knows I wish
it were. But you must go down only when you’re ready. These are critical days for all of us in this
area. If something breaks–the Jap, you know, think what will happen to you down there, with me at
headquarters. You’ve known of reprisals.”
He looked at her and his sooty black eyes were like the bottom of a deep drained well. “I wish
I could be here at night. What I’m saying is this: it’s a job you must do by yourself, since nobody is
allowed out of headquarters after dark. That monkey must be shot or you’re not safe here anymore.”
“You know I can’t shoot.”
“We are continuing our lessons. You still remember, don’t you?” “It was long ago and it was
not really in earnest.”
He inspected the chambers of the rifle. “You didn’t need it then.” He put his life into her hands.
She lifted it and as its weight yielded coldly to her hands, she said suddenly, “I’m glad we’re
doing this.”
“You remember how to use the sight?”
“Yes,” and she could not help smiling a little. “All the o’clock you taught me.”
“Aim it and shoot.”
She aimed at a scar on the trunk of the tree near the door, the monkey’s tree. She pressed
on the trigger. Nothing happened. She pressed it again. “It isn’t loaded.”
“It is.”
“The trigger won’t move. Something’s wrong.”
He took it from her. “It’s locked, you forgot it as usual.” He put it aside. “Enough now, you’ll
do. But you unlock first. Remember, nothing can ever come out of a locked gun.”
He left early in the afternoon, about two o’clock.
Just before the sundown the monkey came. It swung along the trees along the edge of the
precipice, then leaped down on the path and wandered around near the hut. It must be very, very
hungry, or it would not be so bold. It sidled forward all the time eying her intently, inching toward the
grain room below the stairs. As it suddenly rushed toward her all the anger of the last two years of
war seemed to unite into one necessity and she snatched up the gun, shouting and screaming, “Get
out! Thief! Thief!”
The monkey wavered. It did not understand the pointed gun she brandished and it came
forward, softly, slowly, its feet hardly making any sound on the ground. She aimed, and as it slipped
past the stairs and was rounding the corner to the grain room she fired again and once again, straight
into its back.
The loud explosions resounded through the trees. The birds in the forest flew in confusion and
their high excited chatter floated down through the leaves. But she did not hear them – the only reality
was the twisting, grunting shape near the stairs and after a minute it was quiet.
She couldn’t help laughing a little, couldn’t help feeling exhilarated. The black monkey was
dead, it was dead, she had killed it. Strangely, too, she was thinking of the escaped prisoner that she
strangely feared him but was curious about him, and that now she could think of him openly to herself.
She could talk about him now, she thought. Shoe could talk of him to Carlos and to anybody and not
hide the sneaky figure of him with the other black terrors of her mind.
She realized that she was still holding the gun. This time, she thought, she had unlocked it.
And with rueful certainty, she knew she could do it again, tonight tomorrow, whenever it was
necessary. The hatter of some monkeys came to her from a far up in the forest. From that distance,
it was vague, a lost sound; hearing it jarred across her little triumph, and she wished, like someone
lamenting a lost innocence, that she had never seen a gun or fired one.
Author’s Style
• Edith L. Tiempo used a very contemplative style in writing the poem "The Return." The theme
and the subject of the poem are very serious. Her narrative tone and vivid visual imagery allow
readers to think deeply about old age and evoke emotions of nostalgia and sadness from the
old man’s perspective.
• Edith L. Tiempo is one of the foremost Filipino contemporary writers in English who is known
for her style and substance. Her language is considered descriptive but without scrupulous
detailing. Her literary works are hailed for their artistic representation of significant human
experiences.
Tips
• In analyzing and interpreting a poem, a reader must not confuse the subject and the theme of
the poem. The subject is what the poem is about whereas the theme is the poem's underlying
idea or message.
• A poem could have two or more themes.
LIFE AND WORKS OF F. SIONIL JOSE
F. Sionil Jose
• Francisco Sionil Jose, widely known as F. Sionil Jose,

• December 3, 1924. Born in Rosales, Pangasinan.
• His life and most of his works are influenced by Dr. Jose P. Rizal.
• He edited various literary and journalistic publications, and he founded the Philippine PEN, an
organization of poets, playwrights, and novelists.
• 1955. He opened Solidaridad Publishing House, a year after, he founded Solidarity, a
magazine that produces content mainly focused on "current affairs, ideas, and the arts."
• 1980. He was a recipient of numerous awards. Some of which are the Ramon Magsaysay
Award for Journalism, Literature, and Creative Communications
• 2004. Pablo Neruda Centennial Award
• 2014. The Officer in the French Order of Arts and Letters.
• 2001. He was conferred as National Artist for Literature.
F. Sionil Jose's Literary Works

• F. Sionil Jose’s are generally written in English and are translated to more than twenty
languages and produced worldwide.
• 1970. Among his most celebrated works is the Rosales Saga. It is a series of novels that are
set from the Spanish colonial period to the proclamation of Martial Law . This saga includes
the following novels: Po-on, Tree, The Pretenders, Mass, and My Brother, My Executioner.
• He has also written several short stories, including the notable "The God Stealer". It is a story
about the friendship of Philip Latak, an Ifugao, and Sam Christie, an American who wanted to
buy a bulol, a sculpture of an Ifugao god. The story depicts the relationship and truths about
the colonizer and the colony.
• Waywaya: Eleven Filipino Short Stories is a compilation of short stories about pre-Hispanic
Philippine society.
• 2004, he published the children’s book The Molave and Other Children’s Stories.
NOTE: To identify a writer's contributions to Philippine literature, it isimportant to analyze
and take a close look at his literary works.
Example: In a nutshell, F. Sionil Jose’s "The God Stealer" tells the story of Philip Latak and Sam
Christie. Philip was residing in the city for years against his family’s wishes. Sam, his colleague, was
an American who wanted a bulol, an Ifugao god sculpture, as a souvenir before he gets back to
Boston. Philip stole his grandfather’s bulol for Sam, as he felt indebted to repay Sam’s kindness.
Then Philip’s grandfather died, and he no longer wanted to come with Sam back in the city.
Explanation: The story tackles one of the many effects of colonization, that is, losing one’s identity.
Philip represents the Philippines, while Sam represents America. Philip’s way of offering the bulol to
Sam out of gratitude shows how he tried to denounce his roots by embracing a new one, thus losing
himself in the process.
Summary. F. Sionil Jose is among the most widely read Filipino writers in English whose novels
and short stories depict a wide scope of social underpinnings and struggles of the Filipino masses.
He is the country’s most influential living writer who employs realism through his narrative techniques
and styles.
LIFE AND WORKS OF VIRGILIO S. ALMARIO
Virgilio S. Almario
• 2003. Virgilio S. Almario, popularly known by his pen name Rio Alma, is a Filipino artist known
for his poetry and literary criticism. He was proclaimed National Artist for Literature.
• Almario, together with poets Rogelio Mangahas and Lamberto E. Antonio, pioneered the
second modernist movement in Filipino poetry. In his own words, he defines modernist poetry
as sparing, suggestive, and restrained in emotion; its vocabulary and subject are immersed
in the now.
• 1968. Among his poetry collections are Makinasyon at Ilang Tula, his very first collection;
• 1970. Peregrinasyon at Iba Pang Tula, which won first prize in poetry in the Carlos Palanca
Memorial
• Awards;
• 1979. Doktrinang Anakpawis
• 1984. Mga Retrato at Rekwerdo
• 1994. Muli Sa Kandungan ng Lupa
• 1982. Almario’s earliest works of literary criticism were published in the Dawn, the weekly
organ of the University of the East. Some of those works were later included in Ang Makata
sa Panahon ng Makina, now considered as the first book of literary criticism in Filipino.
• 1965. His other critical works include Taludtod at Talinghaga which tackles the
traditional Tagalog prosody;
• 1984. Balagtasismo Versus Modernismo in which he presents the two main directions of the
Tagalog Poetry.
• 1970. Almario performed significant deeds in the field of Philippine literature. He founded the
Galian sa Arte at Tula (GAT) with the other poets Teo Antonio and Mike Bigornia
• 1985. Linangan sa Imahen, Retorika, at Anyo (LIRA), an organization of poets who write in
Filipino,
• 1986-1992. He served as chairman of the Unyon ng mga Manunulat sa Pilipinas (UMPIL),
considered to be the biggest umbrella organization of writers.
• 1998-2001. He served as executive director of the National Commission for Culture and the
Arts (NCCA).
• 2013. He became the chairman of the Komisyon ng Wikang Filipino (KWF).
Example:
High Zoociety
Ni Rio Alma
Masdan ang tagak sa likod ng kalabaw,
Parang birheng-birheng manang
Na di-madapuan ng langaw
Sa ibabaw ng karosa patungong simbahan;
At ang mga dekadenteng gansa sa gilid ng lawa,
Maluluma ang mga donyang nakahilata
Habang ibinibilad ang kuto at muta.
Hayun ang mga maryakaprang paawit-awit,
Parang mga binibining umiikot ang puwit,
Sa bulwagang hitik sa masalapi’t makikisig;
At ang mga burukratang unggoy
Sa tuktok ng mala-palasyong kahoy,
Pulu-pulutong kung magpulong
Kung paanong mas lalapad ang papel at tumbong.
Naghahari’t matitikas na oso’t agila,
Nagkikikil lang ng kuko’t pangil tuwing umaga
Para isakmal sa karne’t isuob na barya
Kaya tumatambok ang tiyan at bulsa.
Samantala, matatalinong kuwago’y naghihilik,
Malalaki nga ang mata’y lagi namang pikit,
Marahil, bagong paraiso ang laman ng panaginip.
Di tulad ng buwayang laging abala
Sa paghanap ng kahit butiking mabiktima,
Bundat na’y lagi pa ring nakanganga.
Pero higit na mag-ingat sa hunyango’t ahas
Na sa damuhan ay nagkalat;
Tuwing maghuhunos ng kulay at balat,
Pakay ay kay-hirap madalumat.
Explanation:
• 1979. The poem "High Zoociety" is part of the collection Doktrinang Anakpawis
• 1972-1981. Published during the martial law years, the poem and the rest of the collection
are considered committed poetry, that is, of social awareness and concern. The title is a play
on the term "High Society," which refers to the rich and powerful.
• "High Zoociety" has eight stanzas following this pattern of number of lines: 4-3-3-4-4-3-3-4. It
uses what is called in Tagalog poetry as "tugmang karaniwan," wherein the last word of each
line has the same sound. The second, fifth, and seventh stanzas use "tugmang patinig,"
wherein the last words of the lines have the same vowel wound. On the other hand, the rest
of the stanzas use "tugmang katinig," wherein the last words of the lines end in a consonant
preceded by the same vowel sound. However, the poem has no regular meter.
Works of Virgilio Almario
Kuwento ng Sundalong Patpat

ni Virgilio Almario
“Saan ka pupunta, o Sundalong Patpat,” tanong ng sampalok. “Saan ka dadalhin ng kabayong

payat?” “Hahanapin ko ang nawawalang ulan,” sagot ng Sundalong Patpat habang inaayos ang
papel na sombrero. “Pero hindi hinahanap ang ulan,” nagtatakang nagkamot ng tuktok ang
sampalok. “Dumarating ito kung kailan gusto.” “Kung gayon, aalamin ko kung bakit matagal nang
ayaw dumalaw ng ulan,” sagot ng Sundalong Patpat at pinatakbo ang kanyang kabayong payat.
“Saan ka pupunta, o Sundalong Patpat,” tanong ng manok. “Saan ka dadalhin ng kabayong
payat?” “Hahanapin ko ang nakalimot na ulan,” sagot ng Sundalong Patpat habang nagpupunas ng
pawis na tumatagaktak. “Pero hindi hinahanap ang ulan,” nagtatakang nagkamot ng tuktok ang
sampalok. “Dumarating ito kung kailan tinatawagan at dinadasalan.” “Kung gayon, aalamin ko kung
bakit matagal nang hindi makarinig ang ulan,” sagot ng Sundalong Patpat at pinatakbo ang kanyang
kabayong payat.
“Saan ka pupunta, o Sundalong Patpat,” tanong ng bundok. “Saan ka dadalhin ng kabayong
payat?” “Hinahanap ko ang nawawalang ulan,” sagot ng Sundalong Patpat at iwinasiwas ang
espadang patpat. “Pero hindi nagtatago ang ulan,” paliwanag ng nanginginig na dagat. “Ibinilanggo
ni Pugita sa kaniyang mutyang perlas.” “Kung gayon, papatayin ko si Pugita,” sabi ng matapang na
Sundalong Patpat. “Palalayain ko ang ulan.”
At sinugod ng Sundalong Patpat sakay ng kaniyang kabayong payat ang yungib ni Pugita.
Nagulat si Pugita sa biglang pagpasok ng Sundalong Patpat na iwinawasiwas ang espadang patpat.
Nagulat si Pugita sa liksi at lakas ng maliit na Sundalong Patpat. Nagulat si Pugita sa talim at talas
ng kumikislap na espadang patpat.
Mabilis at isa-isang tinigpas ng Sundalong Patpat ang maraming mahahabang galamay ng
mabagal at matabang dambuhala. Isa, dalawa, tatlo. Apat. Lima. Anim. Pito. Walo! Huli na nang
magbuga ng maitim na tinta si Pugita. Nasungkit na ng Sundalong Patpat ang mutyang perlas na
nakapalawit sa kuwintas ng nalumpong reyna ng dagat!
Hawak ang perlas, dali-daling sumibad patungong pampang ang Sundalong Patpat sakay ng
mabilis na kabayong payat. Pagkaahon ay agad niyang ipinukol ang mutyang perlas paitaas,
mataas, mataas na mataas, hanggang umabot sa tiyan ng langit at sumabog ang masaganang ulan.
Nagbunyi ang buong daigdig. Sumupling muli’t naglaro ang damo’t dahon. Nagbihis ng luntian
ang mga bukid at bundok. Muling umawit ang mga ibon at ilog…
“Saan ka pupunta, o Sundalong Patpat,” tanong ng sampalok. “Saan ka naman dadalhin ng
kabayong payat?” “Hahanapin ko ang gusi ng ginto sa puno ng bahaghari,” sagot ng makisig na
Sundalong Patpat at pinatakbo ang makisig na kabayong payat.
Bakit Kailangan Natin ang Himala

Rio Alma
Kung nasa gitna ng nagkabuhol na trapik

At may natitira ka na lamang ilang saglit
Para maitawid
Ang report na sasagip sa trabaho mong nakabingit,
Kailangan mo ang pag-asa Na may darating na pulis
At parang madyik na wawalisin ng kompas at prriiit
Ang naghambalang na bus at dyip.
Kung misis kang nasa palengke
At iilang piso ang ipambibili Ng pangsigang o kahit anong posibleng
Ihanda sa bertday ng bunso mong kinakasi,
Kailangan mong magdasal Na nagbasa ng Koran ang mga Arabe
Kaya ibinaba ang presyo ng langis per balde
Kaya ibinaba ang pasahe Kaya ibinaba ang iba pang setseburetse
Para maging pisa sangkilo ng bibilhin mong karne.
Kaya kung isa kang dukkha O wala ka nang ibang magawa
Ngunit ayaw mo namang malunod sa luha
At lalong ayaw mong pumasok sa ibang kusina,
Iisa ang posible mong isipin
Dahil sawa na sa iyo ang kawanggawa
Dahil sawa ka na sa welga, rali’t batuta
Dahil hindi ka uubrang pulgas o tuta Dahil ni hindi ka uubrang pain sa daga Dahil maliit ka, pangit
at mahina Kailangan mo ng himala.
Key Points. Virgilio S. Almario, or Rio Alma, is a Filipino artist known for his works of modernist
poetry and literary criticism on Filipino poetry, which are valuable contributions to Philippine literature.
LIFE AND WORKS OF ALEJANDRO ROCES
Alejandro R. Roces as a Filipino Writer,

• Alejandro R. Roces was a Filipino literary writer
• July 13, 1924. He was born
• He was a playwright, an essayist, and a short story writer. He was also a columnist at the
Philippine Star, the Manila Times, and the Manila Chronicle.
• He attended the Ateneo de Manila University for his primary and secondary education and
the University of Arizona where he earned his degree in fine arts. He pursued further studies
at the following institutions: Far Eastern University (master’s degree); Ateneo de Manila
University, Polytechnic University of the Philippines, St. Louis University, and Tokyo University
in Japan (doctorate).
• Alejandro R. Roces was known for his short story "We Filipinos Are Mild Drinkers," a story
about an American soldier in the Philippines who brags about his drinking habits, but becomes
overly drunk after drinking lambanog offered by a Filipino farmer.
• 1961 to 1965, He served as the Secretary of Education under the regime of former president
Diosdado Macapagal.
• 2001. He has also served as chairman of the Movie and Television Review and Classification
Board (MTRCB)
• His other literary works are "My Brother’s Peculiar Chicken," a story which talks about two
brothers who were arguing whether the chicken they caught was a hen or a rooster;
Something to Crow About, the first Filipino zarzuela in English about a man named Kiko who
earns a living by means of cockfighting; and Fiesta, a collection of essays about various
Philippine festivals.
• 2002, Alejandro R. Roces was conferred as National Artist for Literature
• May 23, 2011. He died on.
Read the synopsis of “My Brother’s Peculiar Chicken” below, one of Alejandro R. Roces’
notable works.
Synopsis:
Kiko and his brother found a peculiar chicken. They argued whether it was a hen or a rooster.
Kiko believed that it was a rooster, while his brother thought otherwise. Kiko’s brother emphasized
that it could not be a rooster as the chicken has neither wattles nor comb.
Their parents took turns in looking at the chicken and had different thoughts about it; thus,
they ended up arguing like their children. Kiko and his brother asked the chieftain about it, and he
thoughtthat it was a bird of a different kind. They also asked Mr. Eduardo Cruz, someone who studied
poultry raising, and he suggested examining the insides of the chicken, to which Kiko refused. They
both agreed to bring the chicken to a cockpit and have it fight with a rooster from Texas. However,
the rooster performed a love dance around the peculiar chicken. It turned out that the peculiar
chicken was waiting for a chance to attack. It stubbed its spur into the rooster, and won. Kiko’s brother
was convinced that the chicken was a rooster. However, when he was holding the chicken, it
suddenly quivered and laid an egg.
Humor is a literary device which aims to make the audience or readers laugh or be amused.
Alejandro R. Roces employed humor in most of his works. There are various types of humor. Some
of which are exaggeration/hyperbole, surprise, and sarcasm.
Sarcasm – is a literary device used to mock. In the story, the chicken crowed and Kiko triumphantly
asked his brother if he heard it. Kiko then mocked his brother by saying “I suppose you are going to
tell me now that hens crow and that carabaos fly.”
Exaggeration/Hyperbole – is a literary device used to make an event appear better or worse than
what it really is. In the story, Kiko’s brother shared how they were almost whipped for arguing too
much.
Surprise – is a literary device commonly found in unlikely situation or an unexpected turn of events.
As the brothers ran from the mob, Kiko’s brother was convinced that the chicken was a rooster based
on how it defeated its opponent, until it laid an egg.
Works of Alejandro R. Roces
My Brother’s Peculiar Chicken,

by Alejandro R. Roces
My brother Kiko once had a very peculiar chicken. It was peculiar because no one could tell
whether it was a rooster or a hen. My brother claimed it was a rooster. I claimed it was a hen. We
almost got whipped because we argued too much.
The whole question began early one morning. Kiko and I were driving the chickens from the
cornfield. The corn had just been planted, and the chickens were scratching the seeds out for food.
Suddenly we heard the rapid flapping of wings. We turned in the direction of the sound and saw two
chickens fighting in the far end of the field. We could not see the birds clearly as they were lunging
at each other in a whirlwind of feathers and dust.
“Look at that rooster fight!” my brother said, pointing exactly at one of the chickens. “Why, if I
had a rooster like that, I could get rich in the cockpits.”
“Let’s go and catch it,” I suggested.
“No, you stay here. I will go and catch it,” Kiko said.
My brother slowly approached the battling chickens. They were so busy fighting that they did
not notice him. When he got near them, he dived and caught one of them by the leg. It struggled and
squawked. Kiko finally held it by both wings and it became still. I ran over where he was and took a
good look at the chicken.
“Why, it is a hen,” I said.
“What is the matter with you?” my brother asked. “Is the heat making you sick?”
“No. Look at its face. It has no comb or wattles.”
“No comb and wattles! Who cares about its comb or wattles? Didn’t you see it in fight?”
“Sure, I saw it in fight. But I still say it is a hen.”
“Ahem! Did you ever see a hen with spurs on its legs like these? Or a hen with a tail like this?”
“I don’t care about its spurs or tail. I tell you it is a hen. Why, look at it.”
The argument went on in the fields the whole morning. At noon we went to eat lunch. We
argued about it on the way home. When we arrived at our house Kiko tied the chicken to a peg. The
chicken flapped its wings and then crowed.
“There! Did you hear that?” my brother exclaimed triumphantly. “I suppose you are going to
tell me now that hens crow and that carabaos fly.”
“I don’t care if it crows or not,” I said. “That chicken is a hen.”
We went into the house, and the discussion continued during lunch. “It is not a hen,” Kiko
said. “It is a rooster.”
“It is a hen,” I said.
“It is not.”
“It is.”
“Now, now,” Mother interrupted, “how many times must Father tell you, boys, not to argue
during lunch? What is the argument about this time?”
We told Mother, and she went out look at the chicken.
“That chicken,” she said, “is a binabae. It is a rooster that looks like a hen.” That should have
ended the argument. But Father also went out to see the chicken, and he said, “Have you been
drinking again?” Mother asked.
“No,” Father answered.
“Then what makes you say that that is a hen? Have you ever seen a hen with feathers like
that?”
“Listen. I have handled fighting cocks since I was a boy, and you cannot tell me that that thing
is a rooster.”
Before Kiko and I realized what had happened, Father and Mother were arguing about the
chicken by themselves. Soon Mother was crying. She always cried when she argued with Father.
“You know very well that that is a rooster,” she said. “You are just being mean and stubborn.”
“I am sorry,” Father said. “But I know a hen when I see one.” “I know who can settle this
question,” my brother said. “Who?” I asked.
“The teniente del Barrio, chief of the village.”
The chief was the oldest man in the village. That did not mean that he was the wisest, but
anything always carried more weight if it is said by a man with gray hair. So my brother untied the
chicken and we took it to the chief.
“Is this a male or a female chicken?” Kiko asked.
“That is a question that should concern only another chicken,” the chief replied.
“My brother and I happen to have a special interest in this particular chicken. Please give us
an answer. Just say yes or no. Is this a rooster?”
“It does not look like any rooster I have ever seen,” the chief said.
“Is it a hen, then?” I asked.
“It does not look like any hen I have ever seen. No, that could not be a chicken. I have never
seen like that. It must be a bird of some other kind.”
“Oh, what’s the use!” Kiko said, and we walked away.
“Well, what shall we do now?” I said.
“I know that,” my brother said. “Let’s go to town and see Mr. Cruz. He would know.”
Mr. Eduardo Cruz lived in a nearby town of Katubusan. He had studied poultry raising in the
University of the Philippines. He owned and operated the largest poultry business in town. We took
the chicken to his office.
“Mr. Cruz,” Kiko said, “is this a hen or a rooster?”
Mr. Cruz looked at the bird curiously and then said:
“Hmmm. I don’t know. I couldn’t tell in one look. I have never run across a chicken like this
before.”
“Well, is there any way you can tell?”
“Why, sure. Look at the feathers on its back. If the feathers are round, then it’s a hen. If they
are pointed, it’s a rooster.”
The three of us examined the feathers closely. It had both.
“Hmmm. Very peculiar,” said Mr. Cruz.
“Is there any other way you can tell?” “I could kill it and examined its insides.” “No. I do not
want it killed,” my brother said.
I took the rooster in my arms and we walked back to the barrio.
Kiko was silent most of the way. Then he said:
“I know how I can prove to you that this is a rooster.” “How?” I asked.
“Would you agree that this is a rooster if I make it fight in the cockpit and it wins?”
“If this hen of yours can beat a gamecock, I will believe anything,” I said. “All right,” he said.
“We’ll take it to the cockpit this Sunday.”
So that Sunday we took the chicken to the cockpit. Kiko looked around for a suitable opponent.
He finally picked a red rooster.
“Don’t match your hen against that red rooster.” I told him. “That red rooster is not a native
chicken. It is from Texas.”
“I don’t care where it came from,” my brother said. “My rooster will kill it.” “Don’t be a fool,” I
said. “That red rooster is a killer. It has killed more chickens
than the fox. There is no rooster in this town that can stand against it. Pick a lesser rooster.”
My brother would not listen. The match was made and the birds were readied for the killing.
Sharp steel gaffs were tied to their left legs. Everyone wanted to bet on the red gamecock.
The fight was brief. Both birds were released in the centre of the arena. They circled around
once and then faced each other. I expected our chicken to die of fright. Instead, a strange thing
happened. A lovesick expression came into the red rooster’s eyes. Then it did a love dance. That
was all our chicken needed. It rushed at the red rooster with its neck feathers flaring. In one lunge, it
buried its spurs into its opponent’s chest. The fight was over.
“Tiope! Tiope! Fixed fight!” the crowd shouted.
Then a riot broke out. People tore bamboo benches apart and used them as clubs. My brother
and I had to leave through the back way. I had the chicken under my arm. We ran toward the coconut
groves and kept running till we lost the mob. As soon as we were safe, my brother said:
“Do you believe it is a rooster now?”
“Yes,” I answered.
I was glad the whole argument was over.
Just then the chicken began to quiver. It stood up in my arms and cackled with laughter.
Something warm and round dropped into my hand. It was an egg.
We Filipinos Are Mild Drinkers,

by Alejandro R. Roces
We Filipinos are mild drinkers. We drink for only three good reasons. We drink when we are
very happy. We drink when we are very sad. And we drink for any other reason. When the Americans
recaptured the Philippines, they built an air base a few miles from our barrio. Yankee soldiers became
a very common sight. I met a lot of GIs and made many friends. I could not pronounce their names.
I could not tell them apart. All Americans looked alike to me. They all looked white.
One afternoon I was plowing our rice field with our carabao named Datu. I was barefooted
and stripped to the waist. My pants, that were made from abaca fibers and woven on homemade
looms, were rolled up to my knees. My bolo was at my side.
An American soldier was walking on the highway. When he saw me, he headed towards me.
I stopped plowing and waited for him. I noticed he was carrying a half-pint bottle of whiskey. Whiskey
bottles seemed part of the American uniform.
“Hello, my little brown brother,” he said patting me on the head.
“Hello, Joe,” I answered.
All Americans are called Joe in the Philippines.
“Any bars in this town?” he asked.
That was usually the first question American soldiers asked when they visited our barrio.
“I am sorry, Joe,” I replied. “There are no bars in this barrio.” “Oh, hell! You know where I could
buy more whiskey?” “No, Joe. I am sorry. We do not drink whiskey.”
“Here, have a swig. You have been working too hard,” be. said, offering me his half-filled
bottle.
“No, thank you, Joe,” I said. “We Filipinos are mild drinkers.” “Well, don’t you drink at all?”
“Yes, Joe, I drink, but not whiskey.”
“What the hell do you drink?”
“I drink lambanog.”
“Jungle juice, eh?”
“I guess that is what the GI’s call it.”
“You know where I could buy some?”
“I have some you can have, but I do not think you will like it.”
“I’ll like it all right. Don’t worry about that. I have drunk everything—whiskey, rum, brandy,
tequila, gin, champagne, saki, vodka…” He mentioned many more that I can not spell.
“Say, you sure drink a lot, don’t you?”
“I not only drink a lot, but I drink anything. I drank Chanel Number 5 when I was in France. In
New Guinea I got soused on Williams’ Shaving Lotion. When I was laid up in the hospital I got pie-
eyed with medical alcohol. On my way here in a transport I got stoned on torpedo juice. You ain’t
kidding when you say I drink a lot. So let’s have some of that jungle juice, eh?”
“All right,” I said. “I will just take this carabao to the mudhole, then we can go home and drink.”
“You sure love that animal, don’t you?”
“I should,” I replied. “It does half of my work.” “Why don’t you get two of them?”
I did not answer.
I unhitched Datu from the plow and led him to the mudhole. Joe was following me. Datu lay in
the mud and was going: “Whooooosh! Whooooosh!”
Flies and other insects flew from his back and hovered in the air. A strange warm odor rose
out of the muddle. A carabao does not have any sweat glands except on its nose. It has to wallow in
the mud or bathe in a river about every three hours. Otherwise it runs amok.
Datu shook his head and his widespread horns scooped the muddy water on his back. He
rolled over and was soon covered with slimy mud. An expression of perfect contentment came into
his eyes. The he swished his tail and Joe and I had to move back from the mudhole to keep from
getting splashed. I left Datu in the mudhole. Then, turning to Joe, I said: “Let us go.”
And we proceeded towards my house. Joe was curiously looking around.
“This place is full of coconut trees,” he said.
“Don’t you have any coconut trees in America?” I asked. “No,” he replied. “Back home we
have the pine tree.” “What is it like?”
“Oh, it is tall and stately. It goes straight up to the sky like a skyscraper. It symbolizes America.”
“Well,” I said, “the coconut tree symbolizes the Philippines. It starts up to the sky, but then its
leaves sway down to earth, as if remembering the land that gave it birth. It does not forget the soil
that gave it life.”
In a short while, we arrived in my nipa house. I took a bamboo ladder and leaned it against a
tree. Then I climbed the ladder and picked some calamansi.
“What’s that?” Joe asked.
“Philippine lemon,” I answered. “We will need this for our drinks.” “Oh, chasers.”
“That is right, Joe. That is what the soldiers call it.”
I fill my pockets and then went down. I went to the garden well and washed the mud from my
legs. Then we went up a bamboo ladder to my hut.
It was getting dark, so I filled a coconut shell with coconut oil, dipped a wick in the oil and
lighted the wick. It produced a flickering light. I unstrapped my bolo and hung it on the wall.
“Please sit down, Joe,” I said.
“Where?” he asked, looking around.
“Right there,” I said, pointing to the floor.
Joe sat down on the floor. I sliced the calamansi in halves, took some rough salt and laid it on
the foot-high table. I went to the kitchen and took the bamboo tube where I kept my lambanog.
Lambanog is a drink extracted from the coconut tree with pulverized mangrove bark thrown
in to prevent spontaneous combustion. It has many uses. We use it as a remedy for snakebites, as
counteractive for malaria chills, as an insecticide and for tanning carabao hide.
I poured some lambanog on two polished coconut shells and gave one of the shells to Joe. I
diluted my drink with some of Joe’s whiskey. It became milky. We were both seated on the floor. I
poured some of my drink on the bamboo floor; it went through the slits to the ground below.
“Hey, what are you doing,” said Joe, “throwing good liquor away?”
“No, Joe,” I said. “It is the custom here always to give back to the earth a little of what we have
taken from the earth.”
“Well!” he said, raising his shell. “Here’s to the end of the war!” “Here’s to the end of the war!”
I said, also lifting my drink.
I gulped my drink down. I followed it with a slice of calamansi dipped in rough salt. Joe took
his drink, but reacted in a peculiar way. His eyes popped out like a frog’s and his hand clutched his
throat. He looked as if he had swallowed a centipede.
“Quick, a chaser!” he said.
I gave him a slice of calamansi dipped in unrefined salt. He squirted it in his mouth. But it was
too late. Nothing could chase her. The calamansi did not help him. I don’t think even a coconut would
have helped him.
“What is wrong, Joe?” Tasked.
“Nothing,” he said. “The first drink always affects me this way.” He was panting hard and tears
were rolling down his cheeks.
“Well, the first drink always acts like a mine sweeper,” I said, “but this second one will be
smooth.”
I filled his shell for the second time. Again I diluted my drink with Joe’s whiskey. I gave Joe
his shell. L-noticed that he was beaded with perspiration. He had unbuttoned his collar and loosened
his tie. Joe took his shell but did not seem very anxious. I lifted my shell and said: “Here is to America!”
I was trying very hard to be a good host.
“Here’s to America!” Joe said.
We both killed our drinks. Joe again reacted in a funny way. His neck stretched out like a
turtle’s. And now he was panting like a carabao gone amok. He was grasping his tie with one hand.
Then he looked down on his tie, threw it to one side, and said: “Oh, Christ, for a while I thought it
was my tongue.”
After this he started to tinker with his teeth.
“What’s wrong, Joe?” I asked, still trying to be a perfect host.
“Plenty, this damned stuff had loosened my bridgework.”
As Joe exhaled, a moth flying around the flickering flame fell dead. He stared at the dead
moth and said: “And they talk of DDT.”
“Well, how about another drink?” I asked. “It is what we came here for.” “No, thanks,” he said,
“I’m through.”
“Surely you will not refuse my hospitality?” “O.K. Just once more.”
I poured the juice in the shells and again diluted mine with whiskey I handed Joe his drink.
“Here’s to the Philippines,” he said.
“Here’s to the Philippines,” I said.
Joe took some of his drink. I could not see very clearly in the flickering light, but I could have
sworn I saw smoke out of his tears.
“This stuff must be radioactive,” he said.
He threw the remains of his drink on the nipa wall and yielded: “Blaze, goddamn you, blaze!”
Just as I was getting in the mood to drink, Joe passed out. He lay on the floor flat as a starfish.
He was in a class all by himself.
I knew that the soldiers had to be back in their barracks at a certain time. So I decided to take
Joe back. I tried to lift him. It was like lifting a carabao. I had to call four of my neighbors to help me
carry Joe. We slung him on top of my carabao. I took my bolo from my house and strapped it on my
waist. Then I proceeded to take him back. The whole barrio was wondering what had happened to
the big Amerikano.
After two hours I arrived at the air field. I found out which barracks he belonged to and took
him there. His friends helped me take him to his cot. They were glad to see him back. Everybody
thanked me for taking him home. As I was leaving the barracks to go home, one of his buddies called
me and said:
“Hey, you! How about a can of beer before you go?” “No, thanks,” I said. “We Filipinos are
mild drinkers.”
Summary. Alejandro R. Roces was best known for his short stories, "My Brother’s Peculiar Chicken"
and "We Filipinos Are Mild Drinkers." He employed humor in most of his works, usually tackling the
Filipinos’ fascination of cockfighting.
LIFE AND WORKS OF BIENVENIDO S. LUMBERA
Personal Life :
• April 11, 1932, Born in Lipa , Batangas. Lumbera, who was called Beny when he was a
young boy. His parents had passed away before he turned five. Beny and his older sister
were raised by Eusebia Teru, their paternal grandmother. When Eusebia died, Beny came to
live with his godparents, Enrique and Amanda Lumbera. Beny showed natural aptitude for
English. In sixth grade, his writing impressed his teacher so much that she once asked him,
in an accusatory tone, if he did write his composition himself. In his third year in high school,
his teacher gave him difficult works of literature to read.
• 1950. Lumbera took a degree in journalism at the University of Santo Tomas
• 1954. He graduated cum laude. A year before his graduation, his first published work, the
poem “Frigid Moon,” appeared in the Sunday magazine of the Manila Chronicle.
• On a full scholarship granted by the Fulbright Committee, Lumbera obtained his masters and
doctorate degrees at Indiana University. Literary Background
• Lumbera writes in English and Filipino.
Poetry Collections
• 1993. Likhang Dila, Likhang Diwa
• 2002. Balaybay: Mga Tulang Lunot at Manibalang
Critical Works
• 1987. Abot Tanaw: Sulyap at Suri sa Nagbabagong Kultura at Lipunan
• 2000. Writing the Nation/Pag-Akda ng Bansa
• 1570-1898. Tagalog Poetry
• 2001. Tradition and Influences in Its Development Librettos
• 1977. Tales of the Manuvu
• 1980. Rama Hari
• 2003. Sa Sariling Bayan: Apat na Dulang May Musika
• Lumbera is a strong advocate of the Filipino language. According to him, the gap between the
well-educated Filipinos and the majority cannot be bridged until Filipino becomes their true
lingua franca.
• Lumbera has received numerous awards for his work.
• 1975. The most notable ones were the Special Prize from the Palanca Awards for his poetry
collection Sunog sa Lipa at Iba Pang Tula in
• 1993. The Ramon Magsaysay Award for Journalism, Literature, and Creative Communication
Arts
• 1998. The Philippine Centennial Literary Prize for Drama
• 2006. Lumbera received the title of National Artist for Literature
Works of Bienvenido Lumbera
A Eulogy of Roaches
by Bienvenido Lumbera
Blessed are the cockroaches.
In this country they are the citizens who last. They need no police to promulgate their peace
because they tolerate each other’s smell or greed. Friends to dark and filth, they do not choose their
meat. Although they neither sow nor reap, a daily feast is laid for them in rooms and kitchens of their
pick. The roaches do not spin, and neither do they weave. But note the russet coat the sluggards
wear: clothed at birth, roaches require no roachy charity.
They settle where they wish and have no rent to pay. Eviction is a word quite meaningless to
them who do not have to own their dingy crack of wall. Not knowing dearth or taxes, they increase
and multiply. Survival is assured even the jobless roach; his opportunities pile up where garbage
grows. Dying is brief and cheap and thus cannot affright. A whiff of toxic mist, an agile heel, a stick—
the swift descent of pain is also final death.
Their annals may be short, but when the simple poor have starved to simple death, roaches
still circulate in cupboards of the rich, the strong, the wise, the dead. Analysis of the Poem 1965, “A
Eulogy of Roaches” is a piece of Bagay poetry. Its subject, the roaches, represents a deeper
meaning. However, the poet merely focuses on giving precise visual images of the subject and not
on explicitly stating its representations.
The poet uses imagery, a literary technique in which figurative language is used to appeal to
the reader’s physical senses. An example is the poet’s description of roaches as “friends to dark and
filth.”
Also, the poet uses juxtaposition, a literary technique in which two (or more) ideas are placed
side by side for comparison and contrast. In the last two stanzas, the poet draws both a comparison
and a distinction between the roaches’ life and the life of the poor: that the poor die simply of
starvation, but the roaches still go on living their short lives in the “cupboards of the rich, the strong,
the wise, the dead.”
Sadness
Sweet little songs I make, Tunes so pure and full of love.

When lovers are timid and mute, I give them voice, I make them bold.
Once I bid a word to come And help me put together a poem.
From far and near, from wherever, The word brought the poem warmth.
Each word I painstakingly refine, And I wash the impoverished tongue.
I soothe and salve the cry of pain, I banish any trace of tears. But sadness I cannot send away- Its
little waves lap and leave,
Lap and leave the shore of the heart, This moment a whisper, next a storm.
KA BEL
(A poem by Bienvenido Lumbera)
Ang lider ay isang sangkap lamang ng tagumpay,

Ang masa ang siyang tunay na mapagpasiya.
Maraming beses na nating sinabi sa kanila,
Subalit makunat talaga ang kanilang utak,
Ayaw nang talaban ng ating katotohanan.
Iligpit ang lider at tuluyang mawawasak
Ang rebolusyong binabalak, iyan lamang
Ang kaya nilang paniwalaan.
Ulianin ang katarungang atas ng Malakanyang,
Dinaklot ng batas na walang kinamuwangan
Ang lider ng Anakpawis, di-umano’y imbitasyong lang,
Proklamasyon 1017 ang mahigpit na dahilan.
Nang maikandado ang seldang kulungan,
Inakala nilang nalumpo na ang himagsikan,
Kaliweteng party-list di na makagagalaw.
Subalit ang mga manggagawa, lahat ng anakpawis Na walang pangalan sa mga pabrika at
lansangan, Ang mga pagtutol na isinisigaw, ang pagkakabigkis Lalong tumitibay—Palayain si
Crispin Beltran!
Ang masa, ang masa, pag nabuksan ang isipan,
Uugit ng landas tungo sa kalayaan.
Diwa ni Ka Bel di kayang ihiwalay ng rehas na bakal
Sa sambayang kanyang pinaglingkuran,
Naging sinag ng araw na tumimo sa kamalayan,
At ngayo’y liwanag na nagpupumiglas
Sa dilim at dagim na isinasabog ng Malakanyang. Loob nati’y tibayan, likumin ang kaliwanagan,
Bukang-liwayway ng ating paglaya’y Hinding-hindi na mapipigilan!
Servant
On the shut door of the mind We knock, we of soul and body torn;
We who serve and are ignored, Broken into pieces to be of use.
Our heads nod, our arms lift, Our feet are quick, our faces turn:
We scatter our parts to the beck And call of those higher than us.
Deep within, we have a name, A story to tell. Against a harsh life
We’ve put up a fight, only To end up with a servant’s life.
We serve the strong, we are Feet and arms wanting to climb,
Heads and faces used to fool the law, Will we be whole again tomorrow?
Up ahead the new day shines, The change-of-fate we seek—
Then we shall rise again, With our names and bodies back.
ANALYSIS:
This poem written by Mr. Lumbera is very heart touching and life changing. It is very easy to
understand and can inspire broken souls that are being enslaved. It is a free verse poem. Metaphor
is its figurative language which states a fact or draws a verbal picture from a large point of view. This
poem focuses on what enslaved persons feel. Not literally a slave or servant, but according to what
a person feels. To cut the long story short, “hope” is always there in the side of every tragic story.
New beginnings follow after harsh endings.
There are two Point of Views in the interpretation of this poem; The “positive and the negative
side.”
Positive: All people undergo “servant hood” (signifies a stage in our lives). Being a servant in
the sense of following our elders, respecting them, and taking good care of them. It is a process of
life, where we can be our own through the help of our elders or masters. This will give us our purpose
in life; that is to be leaders and good stewards. It is said in the poem that we have a name deep
inside us. In order for you to justify your identity, you must be a good steward and in turn pursue your
own way.
Negative: It is inspired by the story of people who where neglected, forsaken, and overtaken. I can
relate this to the Filipino people who were abused by foreign visitors. Even if they want to fight, stand
up, and be free, they have no choice but to follow and be a slavey. But all people have names and
identity, unique and absurd. No one can hinder an individual to grow and fight for his right. You
cannot stop an eagle to fly, it needs space to soar. You cannot hold up a thunder bolt from striking
above the sky. It needs to shout and shine bright blinding the enemy. You cannot stop a genius mind
to think of ideas that could change the world. Every body needs to be treated equally, because deep
inside all of us have an ember capable of starting a fire.
Magic
by Bienvenido Lumbera (Translated by Marne Kilates)
Words are the surge of a tide, In its swift current I am adrift.

It washes on the shore of the tongue A dugout bearing a fragile poem.
This sea of mystery is without end:Blue of water touches blue of sky.
Above I can reach for the rainbow, A banner fluttering its silken hem.
But, O, behold the fragile poem, Like the rainbow how soon it is gone.
Flimsy as froth, it vanishes in a blink, A memory no sooner than the glimpse.
Come, mystery and magic of words, Drown me in your wonder
Summary. Bienvenido S. Lumbera is a poet, critic, and librettist. He has made valuable contributions
in the development of Philippine literature especially in the vernacular language. He has published
works in English and Filipino and received numerous awards including the National Artist for
Literature title in 2006.
Definition of Terms
• biographical context - same as authorial context. Biographical context places a particular
literary work within the context of the author’s life. Consider the circumstances under which
the literary work was written. While exploring biographical context, useful sources include
biographies of the author, autobiographies or memoirs by the author or by people who knew
him or her, and critical works that give close attention to the author’s life.
• blog - a web log: a website containing short articles called posts that are changed regularly.
Some blogs are written by one person containing their own opinions, interests and
experiences, while others are written by many different people.
• chick lit - genre fiction which addresses issues of modern womanhood, often humorously and
light-heartedly. The genre became popular in the late 1990s, with chick lit titles topping best
seller lists and the creation of imprints devoted entirely to chick lit. Although it sometimes
includes romantic elements, chick lit is generally not considered a direct subcategory of the
romance novel genre, because the heroine's relationship with her family or friends is often just
as important as her romantic relationships.
• close analysis - synonymous to close reading. It fosters an advanced understanding and
interpretation of a literary passage that is focused primarily on the words themselves. It looks
at details within the text in order to identify larger, overarching themes. Some things to look
for are word choice (diction), structure, imagery, syntax, literary devices, context, tone, strange
or surprising statements, and rhythm (mostly in poetry).
• context - anything beyond the specific words of a literary work that may be relevant to
understanding the meaning. Contexts may be economic, social, cultural, historical, literary,
biographical, etc. (e.g. the political context of the rule of Elizabeth and James, the religious
context of Calivinism, the social context of homosexual relations and cross-dressing and the
literary context of Renaissance literature, for example, all have significant implications for
understanding the words of Shakespeare)
• creative nonfiction - also known as literary nonfiction or narrative nonfiction, is a genre of
writing that uses literary styles and techniques to create factually accurate narratives. Creative
nonfiction contrasts with other nonfiction, such as technical writing or journalism, which is also
rooted in accurate fact, but is not primarily written in service to its craft. As a genre, creative
nonfiction is still relatively young, and is only beginning to be scrutinized with the same critical
analysis given to fiction and poetry.
• critical interpretation - a critical explanation of the meaning of a literary work. It involves
analysis of its elements, especially the theme. When applied to poetry, interpretation may also
be called "explication." The most familiar example of interpretation is literary criticism.
• critical paper - a composition that offers an analysis, interpretation, and/or evaluation of a
text. Usually intended for an academic audience, a critical paper often takes the form of an
argument. According to Robert DiYanni, when you write about a literary work, you will often
attempt to convince others that what you see and say about it makes sense. In doing so, you
will be arguing for the validity of your way of seeing, not necessarily to the exclusion of all
other ways, but to demonstrate that your understanding of the work is reasonable and
valuable. Since your readers will respond as much to how you support your arguments as to
your ideas themselves, you will need to concentrate on providing evidence for your ideas.
Most often this evidence will come in the form of textual support--details of action, dialogue,
imagery, description, language, and structure. Additional evidence may come from secondary
sources, from the comments of experienced readers whose observations and interpretations
may influence and support your own thinking.
• figures of speech - also known as figurative language, it creates figures (pictures) in the mind
of the reader or listener. These pictures help convey the meaning faster and more vividly than
words alone. We use figures of speech in "figurative language" to add colour and interest, and
to awaken the imagination. Figurative language is everywhere, from classical works like
Shakespeare or the Bible, to everyday speech, pop music and television commercials. It
makes the reader or listener use their imagination and understand much more than the plain
words. Figurative language is the opposite of literal language. Literal language means exactly
what is says. Figurative language means something different to (and usually more than) what
it says on the surface.
• flash fiction - a style of fictional literature or fiction of extreme brevity. There is no widely
accepted definition of the length of the category. Some self-described markets for flash fiction
impose caps as low as three hundred words, while others consider stories as long as a
thousand words to be flash fiction.
• hyperpoetry - a form of digital poetry that uses links using hypertext mark-up. It is a very
visual form, and is related to hypertext fiction and visual arts. The links mean that a hypertext
poem has no set order, the poem moving or being generated in response to the links that the
reader/user chooses. It can either involve set words, phrases, lines, etc. that are presented in
variable order but sit on the page much as traditional poetry does, or it can contain parts of
the poem that move and / or mutate. It is usually found online, though CD-ROM and diskette
versions exist. The earliest examples date to no later than the mid 1980s.
• linguistic context - discourse that surrounds a language unit and helps to determine its
interpretation.
• literary elements - refers to particular identifiable characteristics of a whole text. They are
not “used,” per se, by authors; they represent the elements of storytelling which are common
to all literary and narrative forms. For example, every story has a theme, every story has a
setting, every story has a conflict, every story is written from a particular point-of-view, etc. In
order to be discussed legitimately as part of a textual analysis, literary elements must be
specifically identified for that particular text.
• literary genre - a category of literary composition. Genres may be determined by literary
technique, tone, content, or even (as in the case of fiction) length. The distinctions between
genres and categories are flexible and loosely defined, often with subgroups. The most
general genres in literature are (in loose chronological order) epic, tragedy, comedy, and
creative nonfiction. They can all be in the form of prose or poetry. Additionally, a genre such
as satire, allegory or pastoral might appear in any of the above, not only as a sub-genre, but
as a mixture of genres. Finally, they are defined by the general cultural movement of the
historical period in which they were composed. Genre should not be confused with age
categories, by which literature may be classified as either adult, young-adult, or children's.
They also must not be confused with format, such as graphic novel or picture book.
• literary history - the historical development of writings in prose or poetry which attempts to
provide entertainment, enlightenment, or instruction to the reader/hearer/observer, as well as
the development of the literary techniques used in the communication of these pieces.
• literary techniques - refers to any specific, deliberate constructions or choices of language
which an author uses to convey meaning in a particular way. An author’s use of a literary
technique usually occurs with a single word or phrase, or a particular group of words or
phrases, at one single point in a text. Unlike literary elements, literary techniques are not
necessarily present in every text; they represent deliberate, conscious choices by individual
authors.
• literary traditions - it is a collection of works that have an underlying interconnectedness and
coherence that makes them more than simply a group of works sharing geography or group.
Irish poetry and drama, for example, extend over several centuries, involving writers with a
range of voices and preoccupations; and yet it is often thought that they are distinctively "Irish."
This means that you can have someone who doesn't come from Ireland, perhaps doesn't even
have Irish ancestors, but they can write in the Irish Literary Tradition because they will draw
on the same references, structure, mythology, focal points for cultural meanings and historical
moments.
• mobile phone Text tula - a particular example of this poem is a tanaga, a type of Filipino
poem, consisting of four lines with seven syllables each with the same rhyme at the end of
each line - that is to say a 7-7-7-7 syllabic verse, with an AABB rhyme scheme. The modern
tanaga still uses the 7777 syllable count, but rhymes range from dual rhyme forms: AABB,
ABAB, ABBA; to freestyle forms such as AAAB, BAAA, or ABCD. Tanagas do not have titles
traditionally because the tanaga should speak for itself. However, moderns can opt to give
them titles.
• national literature - a literature that reflects the history and culture of a country, usually
created by its local writers. According to Rev. Harley Dewart, a national literature is an
essential element in the formation of national character. It is not merely the record of a
country’s mental progress; it is the expression of its intellectual life, the bond of national unity,
and the guide of national energy. It may be fairly questioned, whether the whole range of
history presents the spectacle of a people firmly united politically, without the subtle but
powerful cement of a patriotic literature.
• oral history research - a method of research where the memories of living people about
events or social conditions which they experienced in their earlier lives are taped and
preserved as historical evidence; oral history -historical information, usually tape-recorded or
videotaped, obtained in interviews with persons having first-hand knowledge; An audiotape,
videotape, or written account of such an interview or interviews.
• sociocultural context - it is evident when literary works respond in some way to the society
in which they were written, and most often (though not always) that response takes the form
of criticism. Sociocultural context is about how a particular literary work depicts society.
Sources you might investigate include works (books and articles) of history or sociology that
talk about the strengths, weaknesses, and changes occurring in the society during the period
in which the literary work is set, and critical works that emphasize the connection between the
society and the literary work.
• speculative fiction - an umbrella term encompassing the more fantastical fiction genres,
specifically science fiction, fantasy, horror, weird fiction, supernatural fiction, superhero fiction,
utopian and dystopian fiction, apocalyptic and post-apocalyptic fiction, and alternate history in
literature as well as related static, motion, and virtual arts.
• 21st century literature – all literary works written and published at the latter part of the 21st
century (from 2001 onwards). These works are often characterized as gender sensitive,
technologically alluding, culturally pluralistic, operates on the extreme reality or extreme
fiction, and questions conventions and supposedly absolute norms.
References
Tabag, Ariel S (trans.), Samtoy, Ang Aming Kuwento (Quezon City: National Commission for Culture
and the Arts and the authors, 2011).
References Agrava, Leonora. Temario de Poesia Filipina en Español. Quezon City, 1968. Alejandro,
Rufino and Juliana C. Pineda. Ang Ating Panitikan. Manila: Bookman, 1948 and 1950.
Bernad SJ, Miguel. “The Poets of the Philippine Revolution.” Philippine Studies, Vol. XXII
(1974), 81-92.
De Veyra, Jaime. La Hispanidad en Filipinas.Madrid: Publicaciones del Circulo Filipino, 1961.
Del Castillo, Teofilo and Buenaventura S. Medina Jr. Philippine Literature From the Ancient Times
to the Present. Quezon City: Del Castillo and Sons, 1968. Discursos de Malol
21st Century Literature
FIRST PRELIMINARY Test
Identification. Direction: Read the following sentences carefully and write the correct answer.
1) It is the expression of strong feeling and thought which leads to a communion between the
individual and his surroundings.
2) It is a poem will look very different from another poem will look very distinct from the second
one; most effectively express what he wants to convey.
3) The words of each lines proceed as usual from left to right but they curiously end where the
poet wants them to stop.
4) The lines in a poem most often divided into sections looking as some sort of paragraphing.
5) It was the sonic imitation usually of end syllables of words.
6) These are the two kinds of rhyme.
7) It was one of the kind rhymes which the words at the end given line rhyme.
8) This kind of rhyming is different from end rhyme in that the rhyming takes place somewhere
within the line and not the end.
9) It was creates special effect which results in being pleasant and motivating.
10) It was prose writing differs from poetry in that it does not depend on verses, meters or rhymes.
11) It was a fictional prose and are much longer than short stories.
12) It is a series of events and character actions that relate to the central conflict.
13) It is a person, or sometimes even an animal who takes part in the action of a short story.
14) It is struggle between two people or things in a short story.
15) It is a short story is the time and place in which it happens.
16) He witlessness the execution of Rizal.
17) He is the man on the wall that wears handguns, plaques, a sword, medals.
18) It is an enduring expression of significant varied human experiences in words well chosen and
arranged.
19) Literature instils the culture of a group such as the values, morals, etc.
20) Literature is source of pleasure and relaxation.
Matching Type. Direction: Match Column A and Column B. Write your answer on your text
booklet.
Column A Column B
1) Julia is an ingrates person. a) Materials, supplies, or equipment; a group
2) A room full of obstreperous crowd or pile of things that are not specifically
protesting the government immigration described.
policy. b) Capable of putting poison or venom into
3) Joseph gesticulatingwhile he talk to his another animal’s body; strong, healthy, or
mother. energetic.
4) She rapped her knuckles on the table. c) To make (someone or something) active,
5) He just stood there with a dumb grin on healthy or energetic again.
his face. d) A state after death according to roman
6) The cobra is a venomoussnake. catholic belief in which the souls of people
7) The mayor hopes to revitalize the city. who die are made pure through suffering
8) The foot football players collidedon the before to heaven.
field. e) Difficult to control and often noisy
9) The marathons were jokingly referred to f) To move your arms and hands especially
as one-day purgatories. when speaking in an angry or emotional
10) She got out the cooking stuff to bake people.
some cookies. g) Use of misrepresentation or trickery to get
11) His leg was cramping so badly he could someone to lapse a life insurance policy and
hardly move it. by another.
12) It took some twisting, but I finally got the h) Twist or curve in something that is usually
top of the jar. that or straight
13) There’s a warp in the floorboards. i) To walk in a slow and awkward way
14) The audience hissed him off the stage. because of an inquiry to a leg or foot
15) The injured player limped off the court. j) To say something in a loud or angry
whisper; to slow dislike or disapprove
k) To have a sudden painful tightening of
muscles to experience - Ingrateful
l) Difficult to control and often noisy
m) Any one of the thick, bony parts; piece of
meat that includes a joint from the leg of an
animal. Silent
III. Language Expression

Direction: In 3-5 sentences answer the following questions with a scholarly manner.
Create a Venn Diagram comparing and contrasting their views about martial law.
Adult Child’s
Perspective Perspective
As a new generation of Filipino, what can we learn from this period in our history?
Why should we study this period in our history?
SECOND PRELIMINARY Test
1) The term civilization is etymologically derived from Latin word ______ which means ___.
2) It is arise by the response of creative individuals to challenges presented by situations of
unusual difficulty.
3) It is part of civilization to have development which gives the distinct characteristics of a group
of people.
4) It is received and perceived to be true, it does not necessarily mean that such information id
factual.
5) Reality refers to the existence of things whether material or non- material but not imaginary.
6) These are the established expectations of society as how a person is supposed to act
depending on the requirements of the time, place, or situation.
7) It is held to be relatively worthy, important, desirable, or valuable.
8) Practical application of knowledge in converting raw materials into finished products.
9) It is an established system of social norms revolving around the needs of people.
10) It is patterns of repetitive behaviour which become a habitual and conventional part of living.
11) It is sets of moral obligations and standards that distinguishes right from wrong or good from
bad conduct.
12) It is set of binding rules or measures that induces man to act or restrain him from acting.
13) Culture is acquired through training, instruction, observation, and imitation.
14) Culture influences others attitudes, habits, and behaviour through communication.
15) Culture is shared in common because people are members of a society with society with
established expectations on everybody.
II. Matching Type. Direction: Match Column A and Column B. Write your answer on your text
booklet.
Column A Column B
1) The college president was against any a) quickly move away from something
negotiation with the students. shocking frightening or disgusting.
2) He had a miserable childhood. b) very small in degree or amount; thin and not
3) Cajoled her into doing his laundry for him. very strong or muscular.
4) The battle field was a hellish scene of c) to look at or see for a very short time
death and destruction. d) show approval pr appreciation at a play,
5) An older man who still has a luxuriant speech, sporting event.
head of hair. e) suddenly have less colour in your face
6) She blanched and remained silent when because you are afraid, embarrassed.
the store owner accused her of taking the f) having an appealingly rich quality
money. g) very bad or shocking
7) The announcement was greeted with h) to persuade someone to do something or to
applause and cheers. give you something by making promises or
8) We glimpsed him thoughts the window as saying nice things.
his car speed past. i) very sever or unpleasant
9) Her head is tilted at a slight angle in the j) a formal discussion between people who
picture. are trying to reach an agreement an act of
10) The town’s population shrunk during the negotiating.
war.
Comprehension and Analysis

a. Explain the are relationship of culture and transcultural nursing.
b. What does it mean to become civilized?
c. Why do civilizations rise and fall?
MIDTERM Test
1. It is a short story is the time and place in which it happens.
2. He witlessness the execution of Rizal.
3. He is the man on the wall that wears handguns, plaques, a sword, medals.
4. It is an enduring expression of significant varied human experiences in words well chosen and arranged.
5. Literature instills the culture of a group such as the values, morals, etc.
6. Literature is source of pleasure and relaxation.
7. The term civilization is etymologically derived from Latin word ______ which means __________.
8. It is arise by the response of creative individuals to challenges presented by situations of unusual difficulty.
9. It is part of civilization to have development which gives the distinct characteristics of a group of people.
10. It is received and perceived to be true, it does not necessarily mean that such information id factual.
11. Reality refers to the existence of things whether material or non- material but not imaginary.
12. It is set of binding rules or measures that induces man to act or restrain him from acting.
13. Culture is acquired through training, instruction, observation, and imitation.
14. Culture influences others attitudes, habits, and behaviour through communication.
15. Culture is shared in common because people are members of a society with society with established
expectations on everybody.
Matching Type. Direction: Match Column A with Column B. Write the word/s of the correct answer.
Column A Column B
1. She blanched and remained silent when the a) quickly move away from something
store owner accused her of taking the money. shocking frightening or disgusting.
2. the announcement was greeted with b) show approval or appreciation at a play,
applause and cheers. speech, sporting event.
3. We glimpsed him thoughts the window as his c) suddenly have less colour in your face
car speed past. because you are afraid, embarrassed.
4. Her head is tilted at a slight angle in the d) very small in degree or amount; thin and
picture. not very strong or muscular.
5. The town’s population shrunk during the war. e) to look at or see for a very short time
Language Expression . Direction: In 3-5 sentences answer the following questions with a scholarly
manner.
Using a Venn Diagram write 3-7 sentences, comparing the poverty and gender inequalities.
Poverty Gender
Inequalities
3rd PRELIMINARY Test
Direction: Explain the following question.
1. What does the balikbayan and homesickness symbolizes?

Balikbayan Boxes
Homesickness
Distinguish the differences between Philippines and America when it comes to better
opportunities that we can get in both countries.
1) Philippines
2) America
Matching Type. Direction: Match Column A and Column B. Write your answer on your text booklet.
Column A Column B
1. Julia gets her parasols to protect her eyes a) To find the way to get to a place when you
form sun. are travelling in a ship.
2. We will never solve all of the perplexities of b) To say something that expresses
life. annoyance or unhappiness.
3. Her singing voice is truly exquisite. c) A person who often talks about the private
4. The drug is used to constrict blood vessels. details of others people’s lives
5. She surged past the other runner. d) To gather collect something in a gradual
6. She got out the cooking stuff to bake some way
cookies. e) Materials, supplies, or equipment
7. He has a collection of antique tools gleaned f) To move very quickly and suddenly in a
particular direction
from flea markets and garage sales.
g) To prevent or keep something or someone
8. She writes a gossip column in the paper.
from developing freely
9. he works hard but he never complains. h) Very sensitive or fine; extreme or intense
10. For thousands of years, sailors navigated by i) The state of being very confused because
the stars. something is difficult to understand.
j) A light umbrella that you use to protect
yourself from the sun.
Language Expression. Direction: In 4-9 sentences answer the following question.
1) Do you think that Filipinos who live or work abroad suffer from homesickness? Explain your
answer.
2) What does the airport symbolize?
3) Do you think modern technology has given us enough that family members who live in
different countries can still maintain close family ties? Why or why not?
4) Why do so many Filipinos leave the Philippines? What do you think are their strongest reasons
for leaving?
FINALS Test
Direction. Match column A with column B. Write the word/s of the correct answer.
Column A Column B
1. The college president was against any ● To find the way to get to a place when you are
negotiation with the students. travelling in a ship.
2. He had a miserable childhood. ● To say something that expresses annoyance
3. Cajoled her into doing his laundry for him. or unhappiness.
4. The battle field was a hellish scene of death ● A person who often talks about the private
and destruction. details of others people’s lives
5. An older man who still has a luxuriant head of ● To gather collect something in a gradual way
hair. ● Materials, supplies, or equipment
6. She blanched and remained silent when the ● To move very quickly and suddenly in a
store owner accused her of taking the money. particular direction
7. The announcement was greeted with ● To prevent or keep something or someone
applause and cheers. from developing freely
8. We glimpsed him thoughts the window as his ● Very sensitive or fine; extreme or intense
car speed past. ● The state of being very confused because
9. Her head is tilted at a slight angle in the something is difficult to understand.
picture. ● quickly move away from something shocking
10. The town’s population shrunk during the frightening or disgusting.
war. ● very small in degree or amount; thin and not
11. Julia gets her parasols to protect her eyes very strong or muscular.
form sun. ● to look at or see for a very short time
12. We will never solve all of the perplexities of show approval or appreciation at a play, speech,
life. sporting event.
13. Her singing voice is truly exquisite. ● suddenly have less colour in your face
14. The drug is used to constrict blood vessels. because you are afraid, embarrassed.
15. She surged past the other runner. ● having an appealingly rich quality
16. She got out the cooking stuff to bake some very bad or shocking
cookies. ● to persuade someone to do something or to
17. He has a collection of antique tools gleaned give you something by making promises or
from flea markets and garage sales. saying nice things.
18. She writes a gossip column in the paper. ● very sever or unpleasant
19. he works hard but he never complains. ● a formal discussion between people who are
20. For thousands of years, sailors navigated by trying to reach agreement an act of negotiating.
the stars.
II. Language Expression
1) Distinguish the differences between Videos games, fantasy and reality in the life of millennial
nowadays in the Venn Diagram below.
Videos games Reality

fantasy
2) What are the advantages and disadvantages of technology? Write them in the table below and share
it with the class.
3) Advantages of Technology
4) Disadvantage of Technology
5) What are these stereotypes? Fill in the table below.
a. Stereotype about People from Manila
b. Stereo about People from the Province

21st Century Literature-Final

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21st Century Literature-Final

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21st CENTURY LITERATURE FROM THE

PHILIPPINES AND THE WORLD

Philippine Copyright 2020

All rights Reserved

form the region where the high

7. Analyze some literary works.

Lesson 2: PHILIPPINE LITERATURE DURING THE SPANISH COLONIAL PERIOD

Lesson 4: PHILIPPINE LITERATURE IN THE POSTWAR AND CONTEMPORARY PERIOD

Lesson 5: Philippine Literature Authors

IV. Examples in of Poetry Literature

V. Examples of Poetry in Popular Culture

Read the poem:

Old Buddha Sitting on Nagã

DON’T mistake it for a piece of rock

Towards St. Elmo’s Isle

RECURRENCE does not repeat itself.

The Day a Storm with my Mother’s Name Came

Stigmata on the Tongue

About the Translators:

The Gospel According to the Blind Man,

THE DISCOVERY OF LANDSCAPE

It’s now a century, since

Third World Geography

A country without miracles

Third World Geography,

A country without miracles

In the pre-Civil War days of the 1800s, people such as:

III. Types of Essays

VI. Examples of Essays in Pop Culture

Why Balabag Elementary School?

Or, it could be more detailed:

The fresh prince of Bel Air theme song

NITONG pinakahuling bakasyon ko sa Santa Teresita sa Cagayan, mistulang bumata ako ng

“May mapagsisimulan na kayo?” tanong ni Nanang.

Hindi ako sumagot.

Common Folktale Motifs:

The Folktale Formula:

The Story of the Piña

The Story of Pina

Origin: There are many stories based on fruit in the Philippines.

Examples of Fable in Literature

The Monkey Who Wanted to Swim

Two Hungry Cats

The Woodcutter and the Axe

The Lion and the Beetle

Read the short story below:

IV. Examples of Legend in Literature

V. Examples of Legend in Pop Culture

There are different Filipino legends

A Story of the Maya Peoples of Yucatan, retold by Rohini Chowdhury

The Legend of the Guava

Legend of the Firefly

The Legend of the Guava

And the beggar disappeared.

The Legend of the banana

V. Examples of Myth in Literature

This said, her golden sandals to her feet

With which the Jove-born Goddess levels ranks

VI. Examples Myth in Pop Culture

Ang diyos ng ating mga ninuno

Si Tingal ay tahimik na naghihintay sa kugunan. Ang gabi ay madilim. Walang kagalaw-galaw

Examples of Epic from Literature

Agyu : The Ilianon Epic of