April 29 passed yet again with barely a mention of the death anniversary of the greatest Filipino writer of our times: Nicomedes Joaquin. Nick Joaquin was our Quixote, as a matter of fact at times he even wrote under the name Quijano de Manila. He wrote thoroughly about the Spanish-era, preserving rites and rituals that would be forgotten today, consigned to the dust bin of history if not for him. Outside of his works, does the history and image of the La Naval de Manila of Intramuros exist? Or even the hauntingly lyrical tale of the discovery of the Mass of St. Sylvestre on New Year’s Eve? He captured our Hispanic past as it was not even captured during the Spanish era.
Is the work of trying to save and preserve Philippine culture and history an act of tilting at windmills? We do not think so, and neither did he. But, he not only worked to save it, but to study our history from different angles. In his collections Culture and History and A Question of Heroes (not to mention his essays found in other collections) he did just that.
The influence of Joaquin is not confined to literature. He excelled in all written forms: history, journalism, poetry, fiction and playwriting. Although, his written contributions are almost second to none, they encompass many different fields. It is his fiction though and the images he crafted that linger. Consider his description of an antiquated and long-forgotten Manila in Guardia de Honor:
“In October, a breath of the north stirs Manila, blowing summer’s dust and doves from the tile roofs, freshening the moss of old walls, as the city festoons itself with arches and paper lanterns for its great vote feast to the Virgin. Women hurrying into their finery upstairs, bewhiskered men tapping impatient canes downstairs, children teeming in the doorways, coachmen holding eager ponies in the ay streets, glance up anxiously, fearing the wind’s chill: would it rain this year?”
When Nick was finally honored by the Ramon Magsaysay Award Foundation in 1996 we wrote: “There is a Spanish saying, ‘Honrar, honra”. It means that when you honor those worthy of honor, you in effect have honored yourself.” The Magsaysay Foundation did not honor Nick Joaquin, he honored them.
We were friends with Nick Joaquin for over 50 years. Even when we were teaching at the FEU, Nick used to guest lecture during our classes and discussions on creative writing. In his passing, we lost one of luminaries, one of the greats. Even then, many of us knew he was one-of-a-kind. Fifty years ago, of Nick Joaquin, we wrote: “’A Gulliver among Lilliputians.’ Joaquin has proven the old truism that to understand the present you have to first know the past. And by presenting the present as a continuation of the past Joaquin has given us a sizeable glimpse of the future.”
The past is our best guide to the future. In many ways, it was in Joaquin’s commentaries on Philippine history, culture and our heroes where he was most insightful, and his most relevant:
“The Filipino santero did not move on to marble and bronze, and he perished. The Filipino writer in English, unless he moves on to more epic efforts, may presently find himself as obsolete as the writer in Spanish. And the Filipino in general, if he keeps retreating from the challenge of the difficult, may learn too late that a challenge posed may be perilous, but a challenge evaded is suicide.”