Higher Myths
MANILA, Philippines - Comic books used to be strange ways of myths revered in hushed tones. Stories of monsters, aliens, mutant superheroes, and other strange oddities, along with its murky pulp origins, have made it the weird kid of the publishing world; too trite to be even considered as literature. Authors such as Alan Moore, Frank Miller, and Neil Gaiman have since elevated the medium as a legitimate art form but the sway of comic books to generations of readers has remained powerful since its newsprint-tinged beginnings.
Spandex-clad crusaders are all that dominate the golden age of comic books; all American heroes birthed by an age of uncertainty. As it evolved, creators eventually learned how it can transcend its swashbuckling shackles to a machine that creates a larger mythical fabric rooted in the world’s folktales, beliefs and faith. Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman is a prime example of this: a 10-volume graphic novel that makes use of the fairy tales, Greek and Nordic myths, Shakespeare, T.S. Elliot, and the Bible, and blows them up into a greater and more intimate scope.
A Showcase Of Local Lore And Talent
We read of ghouls, vampires, and werewolves but what about our own creatures? Not just the aswangs and kapres but the hidden elementals in Mount Banahaw, the rituals and folk magic from the pre-colonial era. It’s this fascinating facet of Philippine folklore that Kwentillion, a new comics magazine created by Paolo Chikiamco and Budjette Tan, opens up for a new generation of readers.
Tan and Chikiamco set out to create a venue for stories that touch on the facets of Philippine folklore (such as Tan’s Trese comics and Chikiamco’s Rocket Kapre blog and the Alternative Alamat anthology), with a young adult fantasy, science fiction slant, while promoting Filipino talent at the same time.
“We made Kwentillion to bridge the gap between two complementary needs. There is a lot of creative talent in the Philippines. But a creator can’t make a living off stories without building a fan base, and you can’t build a large enough fan base when you only have 150 copies of your story to sell every year,” Chikiamco says.
The interesting mix of folkloric imaginings ad YA leanings makes total sense. Surprisingly, the young adult market is largely untapped by local publishing houses. Teenagers make for an army of voracious readers, as shown by the success of The Hunger Games Trilogy, Lemony Snickett’s A Series of Unfortunate Events, and Rick Riordan’s Percy Jackson and the Olympians series. With the astonishing talent of local artists and illustrators, Kwentillion makes way for the emergence of a new creature of Philippine literature.
“As shown by Paolo in his Rocket Kapre website, we’ve got dozens of other gods and goddess and creatures of myth that have never been used in stories. Paolo has already done new creators the favor of research on these old myths and put them together in one list. Now, it’s up to the new writers and artists to do something with them,” Tan explains.
Genre Mashups
Kwentillion’s maiden issue yields a wonderful menagerie of stories and insights. Tan and Kajo Baldisimo opens up the issue with “The Last Datu,” a tale of revenge involving a cybernetic manananggal and a robotic aswang. Chikiamco’s work with Hannah Buena, “High Society,” is an exciting take on Philippine history with a dash of steampunk and anitos. Robert Magnusson’s ‘Poso Maximo’ is a humorous silent comic about a plumber fighting monsters living in septic tanks. And the finale, Timothy Dimacali and John Bumanglag’s ‘Sky Gypsies,’ is a great sampler of how Filipino science fiction can reach the farthest regions of space.
The issue also features fiction, reviews of upcoming YA books, a tutorial on how to draw a tikbalang, a case for fan fiction and the need for more Filipino YA books, and more importantly, a spotlight on Filipino creators such as Honoel Ibardolaza and Koi Carreon.
Non-Required Reading
Publications like Kwentillion serve as an alternative means of learning; non-required reading that harkens back to the days when we thirst for adventures, whether in the deep, misty forests or unexplored frontiers. This is something that Tan noted a few months ago when he gave a talk to a group of high school students.
“I was shocked when one of them didn’t know what a tikbalang is,” he says. “But I thought about it and realized that the first time I heard about a tikbalang was not from a school book, but from stories and Pinoy movies. So, I think it’s up to us to provide the stories that will hopefully be good enough to become required reading in classroom.”
Ultimately, Kwentillion is not only a step in the preservation of our country’s rich trove of folk tales and schools of magic, it is also a reminder of how passionate individuals can do more by taking these myths out of the classroom context into a more accessible and relatable platform.
“I think it’s time for those who are passionate about Philippine mythology to stop waiting for the educational system to catch up. Mythology is culture, and the government, for all that it occasionally succeeds, is in general ill equipped to ferment a love of culture. A well-written YA series incorporating Philippine mythology will do more for mythological literacy than requiring students to read a myth a day. Creators must create, and enthusiasts must demand, and scholars must discuss, and all of this needs to happen in the public space if we’re going to get people excited about our myths again,” shares Chikiamco.
