Dancing with ‘The Butcher, the Baker, and the Candlestick Maker’
October 29, 2006 | 12:00am
This Week’s Winner
Emerson F. Bengco, 27, works as a radio personality (DJ Eriq Nash) on 97.5 OKFM in Olongapo City. "I grew up watching American TV shows on FEN (Far East Network-Philippines) when the US Navy still occupied Subic. I was introduced to reading at an early age by my family and Liwayway. Tolkien’s The Hobbit (which strangely appeared at our home and magically disappeared afterwards), the Rosales Novels and my sisters’ school books became reading staples. I dream of putting up an educational foundation for the less fortunate and becoming the first Filipino gold medallist in diving at the Olympics – if ever I learn how to swim."
"Let’s get to the heart of what matters!" – Mr. Sawit in "Visitation of the Gods"
Of course, Mr. Sawit, a character in Gilda Cordero-Fernando’s short story "Visitation of the Gods," wasn’t referring to something great in magnitude; he was referring to, well, a dance. But there is definitely nothing so banal as a dance in Cordero-Fernando’s collection of short stories The Butcher, The Baker, The Candlestick Maker, though the cadence of the stories and the messages imbued are as graceful as a waltz.
I came across the book while rummaging through my sister’s bookshelf. I had no inkling of what I wanted to read, really, but after browsing several titles I saw an abstemious-looking book with a black cover and a title taken from a nursery rhyme. Presumptuous me thought that it was going to be light reading given its title, but I did not mind being wrong.
The Butcher, The Baker, The Candlestick Maker is a mélange of stories about social inequity, the status quo, cultural diversity and other conundrums. A well-balanced collection of stories that pinches a nerve whether you are among society’s dregs, or the rapidly dwindling middle class, or the opulent few.
A personal favorite is "Harvest of Humble Folk" where we are segued into an idyllic town bereft of iniquity. Pugad Lawin serves as the biblical Eden where residents live out their puritanical lives day in and day out. Unmindful of what other pastures might offer, they live unabashedly in their austere town sharing stories of how their newly acquired Berkshire boar will bring a sty of healthy pigs, the new artesian well, their bumper crop of vegetables and fruits, and superstitions to keep the children from being precocious.
But we know the story of Eden would be incomplete without the serpent, which is here provided by a man named Lazaro. Then the decadence begins.
The author vividly illustrates all this with the poise of a ballerina. The once-pristine Pugad Lawin soporifically falls under Lazaro’s spell while Ms. Noel, a staunch believer that progress can be achieved through education and hard work, appeals to the local folk for sobriety, but to no avail. Cordero-Fernando provides a simple allusion to the state of affairs of the town: a captured fawn, now with a broken leg, the townsfolk awaiting its death. And it is Lazaro who dooms the innocent animal.
Meanwhile, "Race Up to Heaven" conveys a literal and figurative pursuit of the height of one’s dream: the extent of how far the "flyer" pursues it and the cost. The author illustrates this with Manoy’s American visitors, his grandfather and other relatives. After the pleasantries and the customary hospitality are laid out by the hosts, the reader is instantly presented with the cultural idiosyncrasies of both cultures. Worthy causes presented, the tango of cultures range from meal preparation, babysitting, to opinions on extended families. Symbolism is subtly placed, like the image of grandfather’s kite softly kissing the sky’s azure face, while an overture of jets break the sound barrier.
The book discusses these without being preachy and mundane, giving a picturesque view of the settings and a justified and personal description of the characters.
On the lighter side, "Level of Each Day’s Need" provides a hint of supernatural essence to the urban fairy tale of a long-married couple, Flora and Manding. In the story, the ball is already over and the clock has struck 12 midnight. There are no Arthurian quests or evil queens to overthrow, just kingly meals to cook, peasant-sized budgets to manage and kids to take care of – all done nobly and with the bearing of a fandango dancer by the maiden Flora. "Level of Each Day’s Need" is like a sequel to your favorite fairy tale that ends with the knight sweeping his fair maiden off her feet and the immortal phrase "happily ever after" assuring you of how they lived, before you close the book. But what if the prince never became king? What if his noble steed was an old Chevy while the other royalties sported Thunderbirds? What if the damsel, never seemed witty enough, cooked a tad less than a gourmet meal, was not quite the Brigitte Bardot with a Harvard degree one was hoping for after waking her up from her 100-year-long slumber? To this, Cordero-Fernando throws in fairy-tale staples: a dwarf and, yes, a mirror. There are no slain dragons in the end, but there is a realized and not romanticized version of "happily ever after."
The aforementioned stories are just the tip of the iceberg. The Butcher, The Baker, The Candlestick Maker provides more thought-provoking and serious insights with "People in the War," which is the most emotional of all the stories; even "Hunger," a seemingly innocent rigodon of children and parents in a Wendy Evans neighborhood pervades of a child’s heart’s supplication for love and emotional sustenance. The coup de grâce, of course, is the very popular story "Visitation of the Gods," which is most familiar to most readers. It portrays the story of a visit from the higher rungs of the public school system to Pugad Lawin High School for "inspection and evaluation," much to the chagrin of the headstrong and idealistic teacher Ms. Noel, who knows the visit is a mere farce. "Inspection and evaluation" by superintendents refers to hobnobbing with teachers, taking pleasure in what the school has served and what they can bring home for pasalubong to their spouses and, of course, the dances. Not even getting within an inch of the real problems of the educational system. Through the hypocrisy of the visit and the school staff, Ms. Noel finds solace in her students, their ideals and dreams intertwined with her own, like the vines of the gourds in Pugad Lawin’s trellises.
So there you have it.
What I love about this book is that, although it depicts times and social problems decades ago (my copy was published in 1962), and fiction as it is, it still addresses the same social problems today. Apart from details that date the stories (people and products that were quite popular during that era), one might think the author is describing the country’s current state. A great book’s worth is its capacity to move the reader to vividly imagine the characters and their stories, and to be emotionally part of these stories as well.
And Cordero-Fernando succeeds in doing that. Her book brings to light the heart of what matters.
And no, that does not refer to a dance.
Emerson F. Bengco, 27, works as a radio personality (DJ Eriq Nash) on 97.5 OKFM in Olongapo City. "I grew up watching American TV shows on FEN (Far East Network-Philippines) when the US Navy still occupied Subic. I was introduced to reading at an early age by my family and Liwayway. Tolkien’s The Hobbit (which strangely appeared at our home and magically disappeared afterwards), the Rosales Novels and my sisters’ school books became reading staples. I dream of putting up an educational foundation for the less fortunate and becoming the first Filipino gold medallist in diving at the Olympics – if ever I learn how to swim."
"Let’s get to the heart of what matters!" – Mr. Sawit in "Visitation of the Gods"
Of course, Mr. Sawit, a character in Gilda Cordero-Fernando’s short story "Visitation of the Gods," wasn’t referring to something great in magnitude; he was referring to, well, a dance. But there is definitely nothing so banal as a dance in Cordero-Fernando’s collection of short stories The Butcher, The Baker, The Candlestick Maker, though the cadence of the stories and the messages imbued are as graceful as a waltz.
I came across the book while rummaging through my sister’s bookshelf. I had no inkling of what I wanted to read, really, but after browsing several titles I saw an abstemious-looking book with a black cover and a title taken from a nursery rhyme. Presumptuous me thought that it was going to be light reading given its title, but I did not mind being wrong.
The Butcher, The Baker, The Candlestick Maker is a mélange of stories about social inequity, the status quo, cultural diversity and other conundrums. A well-balanced collection of stories that pinches a nerve whether you are among society’s dregs, or the rapidly dwindling middle class, or the opulent few.
A personal favorite is "Harvest of Humble Folk" where we are segued into an idyllic town bereft of iniquity. Pugad Lawin serves as the biblical Eden where residents live out their puritanical lives day in and day out. Unmindful of what other pastures might offer, they live unabashedly in their austere town sharing stories of how their newly acquired Berkshire boar will bring a sty of healthy pigs, the new artesian well, their bumper crop of vegetables and fruits, and superstitions to keep the children from being precocious.
But we know the story of Eden would be incomplete without the serpent, which is here provided by a man named Lazaro. Then the decadence begins.
The author vividly illustrates all this with the poise of a ballerina. The once-pristine Pugad Lawin soporifically falls under Lazaro’s spell while Ms. Noel, a staunch believer that progress can be achieved through education and hard work, appeals to the local folk for sobriety, but to no avail. Cordero-Fernando provides a simple allusion to the state of affairs of the town: a captured fawn, now with a broken leg, the townsfolk awaiting its death. And it is Lazaro who dooms the innocent animal.
Meanwhile, "Race Up to Heaven" conveys a literal and figurative pursuit of the height of one’s dream: the extent of how far the "flyer" pursues it and the cost. The author illustrates this with Manoy’s American visitors, his grandfather and other relatives. After the pleasantries and the customary hospitality are laid out by the hosts, the reader is instantly presented with the cultural idiosyncrasies of both cultures. Worthy causes presented, the tango of cultures range from meal preparation, babysitting, to opinions on extended families. Symbolism is subtly placed, like the image of grandfather’s kite softly kissing the sky’s azure face, while an overture of jets break the sound barrier.
The book discusses these without being preachy and mundane, giving a picturesque view of the settings and a justified and personal description of the characters.
On the lighter side, "Level of Each Day’s Need" provides a hint of supernatural essence to the urban fairy tale of a long-married couple, Flora and Manding. In the story, the ball is already over and the clock has struck 12 midnight. There are no Arthurian quests or evil queens to overthrow, just kingly meals to cook, peasant-sized budgets to manage and kids to take care of – all done nobly and with the bearing of a fandango dancer by the maiden Flora. "Level of Each Day’s Need" is like a sequel to your favorite fairy tale that ends with the knight sweeping his fair maiden off her feet and the immortal phrase "happily ever after" assuring you of how they lived, before you close the book. But what if the prince never became king? What if his noble steed was an old Chevy while the other royalties sported Thunderbirds? What if the damsel, never seemed witty enough, cooked a tad less than a gourmet meal, was not quite the Brigitte Bardot with a Harvard degree one was hoping for after waking her up from her 100-year-long slumber? To this, Cordero-Fernando throws in fairy-tale staples: a dwarf and, yes, a mirror. There are no slain dragons in the end, but there is a realized and not romanticized version of "happily ever after."
The aforementioned stories are just the tip of the iceberg. The Butcher, The Baker, The Candlestick Maker provides more thought-provoking and serious insights with "People in the War," which is the most emotional of all the stories; even "Hunger," a seemingly innocent rigodon of children and parents in a Wendy Evans neighborhood pervades of a child’s heart’s supplication for love and emotional sustenance. The coup de grâce, of course, is the very popular story "Visitation of the Gods," which is most familiar to most readers. It portrays the story of a visit from the higher rungs of the public school system to Pugad Lawin High School for "inspection and evaluation," much to the chagrin of the headstrong and idealistic teacher Ms. Noel, who knows the visit is a mere farce. "Inspection and evaluation" by superintendents refers to hobnobbing with teachers, taking pleasure in what the school has served and what they can bring home for pasalubong to their spouses and, of course, the dances. Not even getting within an inch of the real problems of the educational system. Through the hypocrisy of the visit and the school staff, Ms. Noel finds solace in her students, their ideals and dreams intertwined with her own, like the vines of the gourds in Pugad Lawin’s trellises.
So there you have it.
What I love about this book is that, although it depicts times and social problems decades ago (my copy was published in 1962), and fiction as it is, it still addresses the same social problems today. Apart from details that date the stories (people and products that were quite popular during that era), one might think the author is describing the country’s current state. A great book’s worth is its capacity to move the reader to vividly imagine the characters and their stories, and to be emotionally part of these stories as well.
And Cordero-Fernando succeeds in doing that. Her book brings to light the heart of what matters.
And no, that does not refer to a dance.
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