Max was bigger than life
December 9, 2006 | 12:00am
There are people who leave an indelible mark on your life and you feel a void when they are no longer around. One such person was Max Soliven. Ever since the morning of Nov. 24, when I received news of his unexpected demise, I have not stopped wondering why our Lord took him away so fast, so soon. He still had so much wisdom to impart to his readers and friends. His mission in life was not totally finished. Perhaps it is just a nightmare that he is no longer there. But the absence of his column in the editorial pages of The Philippine STAR reaffirm that he is in another realm of the universe and will write for us no more.
During his wake, I noticed that most of the speakers called Max their mentor, their teacher, their brother, their friend, or all of the above. House Speaker Joe de Venecia talked about the days when he and Max would take the bus to Ateneo. Max was his teacher; JDV, the brilliant student. Babe Romualdez talked about how Max was his brother, his mentor, and his friend of 35 years.
"He is irreplaceable," said Babe.
Two of the younger speakers, Isaac and Miguel Belmonte, called Uncle Max their mentor. It was so touching when Miguel, almost choked with tears, stopped towards the end of his speech, unable to continue. When he had gathered himself, he said, "Uncle Max believed in me more than I believed in myself. He encouraged me to be where I am today."
Maxie, as I fondly called him, was one of the reasons "Savoir Faire" was born. He gave me ideas on what to write about and would praise me for an article well done. When I doubted myself as a writer, he erased my doubts with his kind words and encouragement. When I talked to him about the celebrities I would meet in the course of my travels, he would tell me right away to write about them for People Asia magazine. When I would resist because of lack of time or lack of ideas, he would give me different angles on how to treat the subject matter.
"Sanamagan, no more excuses," he would sternly say. If I may quote Miguel B., I would say the same: " Max Soliven was my mentor because he believed in me more than I believed in myself."
His one big passion was travel. He had wanderlust in him. He loved going to new places as well as to his favorite haunts Paris, New York, Tokyo, and London. He was a people person, a charmer and a brilliant conversationalist, being well versed in history, current events and politics. During gatherings, he held everyone captive with his interesting stories of heads of state and various celebrities – remarkable or notorious –he had met.
During the Vietnam War, he was a foreign correspondent in Saigon. He and Precious spent two years of their married life there. His accounts of his dangerous escapades during the war could have been the sequel to the movie Good Morning, Vietnam.
He loved the theater. In New York, his schedule was always filled and it was difficult to invite him to dinner. He liked watching Broadway shows every evening. The only time he would accept a dinner engagement was when his show was a matinee. One time he ran out of Broadway shows to watch, as he had already seen all the shows worth seeing. So he and his entourage opted to watch a Barry Manilow concert at Madison Square Garden. Never a dull moment with Maxie! His zeal for life was contagious and one had to be energetic to keep up with his pace.
Buying books was another big passion of his. Anywhere in the world, Max had to go to a bookstore to buy books. His collection of books ranged from biographies, histories, war stories, and politics. He told me that his books were his legacy to his wife’s school, O.B. Montessori.
During one of my trips to Paris, I got a surprise call from his secretary, Tess Santos-Coffill, saying they were also in Paris for a few days on their way to London and Scotland. She asked me to meet them at the Louvre Antiquaire stores, where Max was buying miniature soldiers for his collection. It was quite an experience to see him choosing different soldiers from Napoleon Bonaparte’s wars. He even bought tanks and barricades to complete the scenario. I never saw such a collection and did not know that miniature soldiers existed and were sold in these stores. In the process of choosing the soldiers, he taught me a lot about Napoleon’s history. He was an avid fan of Napoleon and knew the history of the Napoleonic wars. Upon his insistence, we visited the tomb of Napoleon at the Invalides and he impressed upon me greatness of the Napoleonic era. What I did not learn in my French history class, I learned from Max Soliven, the historian!
Another aspect of his multi-faceted persona was his penchant for collections. And he didn’t stop halfway. It went on and on and on. He was a collector of stamps, old movies (original, not pirated, then on VHS and recently on DVD), books, war memorabilia, and miniature soldiers.
It will take a while before I get used to the idea that Maxie is not around anymore. I will miss his infectious laughter, his brilliant stories peppered with his trademark expressions "sanamagan" and "susmariosep," and even his occasional outbursts of temper! I am sure many of his friends feel the same way I do, for if there is one phrase to describe Max Soliven, it would be "he was bigger than life."
During his wake, I noticed that most of the speakers called Max their mentor, their teacher, their brother, their friend, or all of the above. House Speaker Joe de Venecia talked about the days when he and Max would take the bus to Ateneo. Max was his teacher; JDV, the brilliant student. Babe Romualdez talked about how Max was his brother, his mentor, and his friend of 35 years.
"He is irreplaceable," said Babe.
Two of the younger speakers, Isaac and Miguel Belmonte, called Uncle Max their mentor. It was so touching when Miguel, almost choked with tears, stopped towards the end of his speech, unable to continue. When he had gathered himself, he said, "Uncle Max believed in me more than I believed in myself. He encouraged me to be where I am today."
Maxie, as I fondly called him, was one of the reasons "Savoir Faire" was born. He gave me ideas on what to write about and would praise me for an article well done. When I doubted myself as a writer, he erased my doubts with his kind words and encouragement. When I talked to him about the celebrities I would meet in the course of my travels, he would tell me right away to write about them for People Asia magazine. When I would resist because of lack of time or lack of ideas, he would give me different angles on how to treat the subject matter.
"Sanamagan, no more excuses," he would sternly say. If I may quote Miguel B., I would say the same: " Max Soliven was my mentor because he believed in me more than I believed in myself."
His one big passion was travel. He had wanderlust in him. He loved going to new places as well as to his favorite haunts Paris, New York, Tokyo, and London. He was a people person, a charmer and a brilliant conversationalist, being well versed in history, current events and politics. During gatherings, he held everyone captive with his interesting stories of heads of state and various celebrities – remarkable or notorious –he had met.
During the Vietnam War, he was a foreign correspondent in Saigon. He and Precious spent two years of their married life there. His accounts of his dangerous escapades during the war could have been the sequel to the movie Good Morning, Vietnam.
He loved the theater. In New York, his schedule was always filled and it was difficult to invite him to dinner. He liked watching Broadway shows every evening. The only time he would accept a dinner engagement was when his show was a matinee. One time he ran out of Broadway shows to watch, as he had already seen all the shows worth seeing. So he and his entourage opted to watch a Barry Manilow concert at Madison Square Garden. Never a dull moment with Maxie! His zeal for life was contagious and one had to be energetic to keep up with his pace.
Buying books was another big passion of his. Anywhere in the world, Max had to go to a bookstore to buy books. His collection of books ranged from biographies, histories, war stories, and politics. He told me that his books were his legacy to his wife’s school, O.B. Montessori.
During one of my trips to Paris, I got a surprise call from his secretary, Tess Santos-Coffill, saying they were also in Paris for a few days on their way to London and Scotland. She asked me to meet them at the Louvre Antiquaire stores, where Max was buying miniature soldiers for his collection. It was quite an experience to see him choosing different soldiers from Napoleon Bonaparte’s wars. He even bought tanks and barricades to complete the scenario. I never saw such a collection and did not know that miniature soldiers existed and were sold in these stores. In the process of choosing the soldiers, he taught me a lot about Napoleon’s history. He was an avid fan of Napoleon and knew the history of the Napoleonic wars. Upon his insistence, we visited the tomb of Napoleon at the Invalides and he impressed upon me greatness of the Napoleonic era. What I did not learn in my French history class, I learned from Max Soliven, the historian!
Another aspect of his multi-faceted persona was his penchant for collections. And he didn’t stop halfway. It went on and on and on. He was a collector of stamps, old movies (original, not pirated, then on VHS and recently on DVD), books, war memorabilia, and miniature soldiers.
It will take a while before I get used to the idea that Maxie is not around anymore. I will miss his infectious laughter, his brilliant stories peppered with his trademark expressions "sanamagan" and "susmariosep," and even his occasional outbursts of temper! I am sure many of his friends feel the same way I do, for if there is one phrase to describe Max Soliven, it would be "he was bigger than life."
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