Reading: A Wilderness of Sweets by Gilda Cordero-Fernando

June 28th, 2009

I was told of this short story and got the book. I lost the book to someone and a year later found the book again. Gilda Cordero-Fernando’s “A Wilderness of Sweet” will probably go down my list of favourite short stories written by Filipino authors. To be included in the list that already has Alejandro RocesMy Brother’s Peculiar Chicken and Nick Joaquin’s Mass of St Sylvestre. And a host of others I cannot remember or have not read and which I will re-discover or read.

A Wilderness of Sweets is both poignant and tragic. Its the story of a family living and surviving during Word War II in a Japanese occupied Manila. The main protagonist ot chronicler of this family story is the youngest member of the family an adolescent girl named Joy. The reader gets a glimpse into the family household and immediate neighborhood where life goes on despite the all things happenings: Japanese soldiers, Guerrillas, love, life, birth, comedy, and tragedy.

Gilda Cordero-Fernando weaves a detailed tapestry of life in occupied Manila. And like a tapestry it depicts both good and bad: funny and tragic.

We often look at the past in black and white which it is not. More often we view life past as something simple its not. It is complex. As complex as any two human beings can make it. As life often is and when a piece of art captures such a thing it is a thing of beauty and fascination. And one truly looks into the eyes of this young girl - seeing the Japanese as the enemy and friend: the soldier who patrols the streets of Manila and the Japanese soldier who stayed with Joy in their house who she played tricks on - but who patiently endured her pranks. Or the informer who looked liked the American actor Robert Taylor.

This is a remarkable read. A poignant story and a tragic one. Another thing the story does is it brings us back to time and tells us that despite war conditions people lived but again it also reminds us how terrifying and tragic war is.

Distance gives us a bit of emotional immunity and only through reading a story like this can we fathom and even empathize the horror our aunts and grand aunts went through. The horrors of war - something one hears in whispers during family reunions. The family member who was taken away by the Japanese to the bamboo grove.

I like this story because you get a feeling of what it was like. But of course I have other reasons. I was first introduced to the story when a friend mentioned it to me and this was because the characters of the story and I had the same surname. And probably more uncanny was that the characters of the stories had the same names as my uncles, aunt and grand parents had.

And I later learned that some bits of the story was taken from the experiences of my family during World War II. Most of the characters, my family, had vanished or moved to land far-away. My Grandparents - disappeared into the past … my grandfather lived up to 101 years old and still drank a bottle of beer each day until he passed away in his sleep … my grandmother died a year after I was born. One of my uncles moved away from the Philippines and settled elsewhere and the other we visit every year at the Libingan ng mga Bayani. And Joy, the girl: my aunt died of cancer a few months after my Grandfather passed on. Only my father remains of the Sonido household still in the Philippines.

And maybe … perhaps this is why I like the story. Do not get me wrong it still is good story even if the characters of the story bore the same surname I have. Please read it and you will not regret it. But aside from the fact that it is a really good story. I like it because, whether half of it or the whole of it was true, it gave me a glimpse of members of my family most of whom are gone or I have not met. And every time I look at the old photographs it gives me an idea , a snapshot , a possible glimpse of what they were like. And the old photographs are not just photographs anymore but something different.

Matilda Who Told Lies by Hillaire Belloc

June 26th, 2009

Another cautionary poem from Hillaire Belloc.

    Matilda Who Told Lies

by Hillaire Belloc

Matilda told such Dreadful Lies,
It made one Gasp and Stretch one’s Eyes;
Her Aunt, who, from her Earliest Youth,
Had kept a Strict Regard for Truth,
Attempted to Believe Matilda:
The effort very nearly killed her,
And would have done so, had not She
Discovered this Infirmity.

For once, towards the Close of Day,
Matilda, growing tired of play,
And finding she was left alone,
Went tiptoe to the Telephone
And summoned the Immediate Aid
Of London’s Noble Fire-Brigade.

Within an hour the Gallant Band
Were pouring in on every hand,
From Putney, Hackney Downs, and Bow
With Courage high and Hearts aglow
They galloped, roaring through the Town,
‘Matilda’s House is Burning Down!’

Inspired by British Cheers and Loud
Proceeding from the Frenzied Crowd,
They ran their ladders through a score
Of windows on the Ball Room Floor;
And took Peculiar Pains to Souse
The Pictures up and down the House,

Until Matilda’s Aunt succeeded
In showing them they were not needed;
And even then she had to pay
To get the Men to go away! . . . .

It happened that a few Weeks later
Her Aunt was off to the Theatre
To see that Interesting Play
The Second Mrs Tanqueray.
She had refused to take her Niece
To hear this entertaining Piece:
A Deprivation Just and Wise
To Punish her for Telling Lies.

That Night a Fire did break out -
You should have heard Matilda Shout!
You should have heard her Scream and Bawl,
And throw the window up and call
To People passing in the Street -

(The rapidly increasing Heat
Encouraging her to obtain
Their confidence) - but all in vain!
For every time She shouted ‘Fire!’
They only answered ‘Little Liar’!
And therefore when her Aunt returned,
Matilda, and the House, were Burned.

Jim by Hillaire Belloc

June 26th, 2009

A cautionary poem by Hillaire Belloc. A bit gruesome and bloody but it is a cautionary poem.

    JIM

by
Hillaire Belloc
from
The Bad Child’s Book of Beasts

There was a Boy whose name was Jim;
His Friends were very good to him.
They gave him Tea, and Cakes, and Jam,
And slices of delicious Ham,
And Chocolate with pink inside
And little Tricycles to ride,
And read him Stories through and through,
And even took him to the Zoo–
But there it was the dreadful Fate
Befell him, which I now relate.

You know–or at least you ought to know,
For I have often told you so–
That Children never are allowed
To leave their Nurses in a Crowd;
Now this was Jim’s especial Foible,
He ran away when he was able,
And on this inauspicious day
He slipped his hand and ran away!

He hadn’t gone a yard when–Bang!
With open Jaws, a lion sprang,
And hungrily began to eat
The Boy: beginning at his feet.
Now, just imagine how it feels
When first your toes and then your heels,
And then by gradual degrees,
Your shins and ankles, calves and knees,
Are slowly eaten, bit by bit.
No wonder Jim detested it!
No wonder that he shouted “Hi!”

The Honest Keeper heard his cry,
Though very fat he almost ran
To help the little gentleman.
“Ponto!” he ordered as he came
(For Ponto was the Lion’s name),
“Ponto!” he cried, with angry Frown,
“Let go, Sir! Down, Sir! Put it down!”
The Lion made a sudden stop,
He let the Dainty Morsel drop,
And slunk reluctant to his Cage,
Snarling with Disappointed Rage.
But when he bent him over Jim,
The Honest Keeper’s Eyes were dim.
The Lion having reached his Head,
The Miserable Boy was dead!

When Nurse informed his Parents, they
Were more Concerned than I can say:–
His Mother, as She dried her eyes,
Said, “Well–it gives me no surprise,
He would not do as he was told!”
His Father, who was self-controlled,
Bade all the children round attend
To James’s miserable end,
And always keep a-hold of Nurse
For fear of finding something worse.