Reading the Regions: Finding Our Place in the Philippine Literary Scene
First submitted as a requirement in the Creative Writing program
LAST WEEKEND, I attended this forum without knowing what to else expect aside from the fact that I would get to see my BA English professors and meet the legendary Resil Mojares and Merlie Alunan in the flesh. Not to mention the free food and suspension of classes, other than that I thought Reading the Regions would be just like any other literary event in Davao. But oh boy, was I wrong. I had learned so much in a span of two days; each lecture was overwhelmed with stories from people of different backgrounds across the country. Even though I was not able to bring any paper to jot my notes in, the information from these lectures had still stuck with me even after the event, which is probably because of the weight it carries and the realizations that had transpired.
The first point that I could not forget is that the problem with today’s literary scene is that we tend to equate validation with prominence. Until we receive awards from well-known institutions, we are not yet called writers, and our works are not yet called pieces of literature. Although a part of this is true in a sense that we need to be critiqued first so we know where to stand in the literary scene, it is also important to know that not everyone in the country has the privilege and the opportunity to have their works reach Manila, or the so-called capital of Philippine literature. For instance, the works from the regions in Mindanao and Visayas would have a problem reaching a wider audience due to its native tongue in which the piece is written in.
Although there are translations in English and Filipino to broaden the scope of readers, some lecturers think that the translated texts would not have the same impact as the original version, for a number of reasons: (1) the translated works reflect the politics of the translator, who has the ability to choose which words to omit or emit to make the work more understandable, especially if there are terms that do not have an exact definition when translated, (2) the translations tend to lose its depth compared to the original text, and (3) some factors include the text’s musicality in its local language, the rhyme scheme, the meter and even the form, would be affected if translated.
One suggestion from the lecturers is that the text could have its translation alongside the original one in order for the readers to compare and contrast the two — a standalone translated version might have its own different context altogether. Another suggestion — or rather, argument — is that the “people from the regions” do not have to adjust to the standards of Imperial Manila in order for the works to be accepted; they have to have their own identity and impose their own standards in their respective regions.
Second, I guess this is the essential part of “Reading the Regions”: to create a movement to collect and produce more local literary works by local writers. It is a gathering of people outside the Metro, who collectively believe that the stories outside the Metro are just as important. These are stories that reflect culture, experiences, and trauma that writers have faced and are willing to share with the rest of the country, or even the world.
Lastly, I would like to echo the responsibility that each writer has. In most, if not all, of the lectures I had attended in the event, the speaker would leave us with a hanging question: as the attendees, as listeners, and as writers, what are we going to do about it? What are we going to do with our newfound knowledge on the lack of detective fiction in the local literary scene? What are we going to do with the lack of quality Filipino one-act plays? What are we going to do, now that we know that there are still so much translated stories that need to be heard and read?
The answer is simple: to write. Or if we already are, then we need to just keep writing, for it is only through writing where we can immortalize the knowledge we have just learned. It is through writing where we can truly ground our ideas, and from there, more things could sprout. A good film stems from a good script, much like how a good book stems from a good grasp of writing. The forum, in one way or another, inspired me to keep writing, for everyone has a story that needs to be read.
We need to keep writing, not because the Palanca awards have called for submission, not because we want to be included in an Anthology, not because we want fame and money, for if money’s the reason why we want to become a writer, then news flash: there is no money here. It is simply all done for the passion, to become a bridge between the story and the audience — for people to read what you believe is something that they really need to read. That is the challenge for us now as we continue to find our place in the literary scene.
Perhaps we have already found our place, then the next challenge for us is to ground ourselves in it, so that we could grow from there.
