On the 53rd Palanca Awards

To mark tonight's awarding ceremonies, below is a feature article that I wrote on the 53rd Palanca Awards, which was published in The Philippine Graphic in September 2003. To my friends and Blogger buddies who won this year, see you all later tonight!

FRESH AND FAMILIAR NAMES FIND FORTUNE AT THE 2003 PALANCA AWARDS

IT'S QUITE INCREDIBLE, if you think about it: a simple and unassuming literary contest, established fifty-three years ago by an alcohol-brewing family in honor of their late patriarch’s memory, has evolved into Philippine literature’s most prestigious event. Who would have thought its prizes would be highly cherished, its awarding rites eagerly anticipated? Ask any serious writer around. Chances are, they’ll tell you they want to win a Palanca one day.

That day came—last September 1, to be exact—when fifty of them proudly claimed their checks and certificates at the Manila Peninsula’s Rigodon Ballroom. But that’s not the night’s only highlight. Iluko writer and Liwayway editor-in-chief Reynaldo A. Duque finally made it to the Palanca Hall of Fame with his fifth first-place win. Newly minted National Artist for Literature and guest speaker Virgilio S. Almario so riveted the audience with his speech that they remained glued to their seats. Poets Michael M. Coroza and Josephine Barrios interpreted a number of this year’s winning poetry in Filipino. And Alex C. Cortez’s direction somewhat undermined his staging of Floy Quintos’ prize-winning full-length play, the witty “Fluid.”

Among this year’s winners, Ma. Kristine Chynna B. Roxas attracted the loudest cheers and claps as she went onstage to receive her award for “Traje de Boda,” her first-placing one-act play. She also attracted attention with her moussed-up hair and funky jacket-and-pantsuit getup. In contrast, fictionist Yvette U. Tan and poet Jing Castro Panganiban looked elegant in their feminine, formal finery. As for the men, there’s playwright Niel de Mesa on one hand, with his hip brown suit and thin-rimmed glasses; and poet Raymund Magno Garlitos on the other, who seemed to have India for inspiration with his permed hair, off-white suit and off-gold vest.

But beyond the ceremony, beyond the clothes, what’s clear from this year’s array of awardees is the fact that there are more fresh names than familiar ones. Young-bloods mixed with the high-bloods. Truth to tell, at least three of them are still in college, in their late teens. There’s Ricardo P. Fernando III of UP Diliman, whose “Bagong Developments sa Pagbuo ng Mito ng Lungsod” placed first in the Futuristic Fiction in Filipino category. And two of this year’s hotly contested categories—Poetry and Short Story in English—counted a pair of UST students in its winning ranks: poet Angelo V. Suárez and his second-placing collection “Exploratoria” and fictionist Ma. Francezca Theresa C. Kwe for her third-placing “Closed Doors.”

What’s also clear is how quite a number of them are twice blessed: either they claimed prizes in two different categories this year; or they have won for the second year in a row. Like Reynaldo A. Duque, arguably the night’s big winner. He admits that, as far as he’s concerned, he felt confident that he would win this year: “If you join, you should believe that you’ll win,” he says in Filipino. “If you don’t believe that you won’t win, then don’t join at all.”

Like F. Sionil Jose and Carlos O. Aureus, Duque used his hometown—Candon, Ilocos Sur, to be exact—as material for his fiction, and his winning entries this year are no exception. “Leon, 15,” his first-placing entry in the Short Story in Iluko category, focuses on a teenage rebel during the Cry of Candon in March 1898 and his brave refusal to accept amnesty in the face of defeat, capture, torture and death by musketry. Similarly, his “Apong Simon,” which won first prize in the Short Story in Filipino category, features another, older rebel—a Katipunero, in fact—who also refused to surrender, who also continued in the struggle. At the same time, he reminds us to be mindful of our history, to re-examine how it is interpreted, how it is written.

For Duque, he considers writing about his hometown to be his responsibility, considers it as his way to immortalize it. “It’s the duty of the writer to write about his hometown so that it will not be forgotten in the literary history of our nation,” he asserts. “That is my belief.”

Like Duque, Rosario Cruz Lucero also won two first-prizes this year, in the highly competitive Essay and Short Story in English categories. Unlike Duque, though, she wasn’t confident about her chances. “The two first-prizes were a complete surprise; (but) the Essay prize really flabbergasted me,” she admits. “In the first place, I wasn’t sure that it conformed to the description of a personal essay.” Describing it as scholarly and theoretical in form, with a smattering of personal statements, she confesses: “I just submitted it just for the heck of it, actually.”

That essay, titled “The Music of Pestle-on-Mortar,” turned out to be a slightly revised version of a keynote speech that she delivered at the Iligan National Writers Workshop. In that speech she discussed an indigenous Philippine poetics, as well as Mindanao as a site of ethnic wars and as a wellspring of mythological and folk-literature sources. As for “Doreen’s Story,” she wrote it as a metafictive account of a story that a fellow Negrense, the late food critic Doreen G. Fernandez, had told her, about a house in her hometown that had its second storey torn down.

“That is like asking which (one) is your favorite child,” Lucero replies when asked which of her winning entries means more to her. “I can only… talk about the difference in the way I relate to either one. But as to which meant more to me… I couldn’t tell.”

Similarly, Yvette U. Tan, also a double-winner, likewise found that question difficult to answer. “That’s really hard to answer,” Tan admits, adding that all of one’s works are like babies, so one can’t really choose which one is more meaningful that the other. “Although I’ll say that 'Sidhi,' my entry for Futuristic Fiction… I put a lot more thought into that, a lot more… soul.”

“Sidhi,” her third-placing entry in the English divison of that category, centers around a festival in Quiapo that becomes a one-night Mardi Gras that the country becomes known for, and how it starts out as something Christian-like, but ending up like a drug scene. On the other hand, her third-placing, English-language short story for children, “Kulog” tackles child abuse, and it offers a different take on the kapre, who actually tries to help the child in the story.

As one might expect, Tan feels elated and humbled by her double wins. “I feel very grateful and very honored that I won not one, but two Palancas,” she says, and adds that “I’m really, really happy that the judges for both categories thought that mine was exceptional.”

Dumaguete-based Ian Rosales Casocot, whose “Old Movies” clinched second prize in the Short Story in English last year, certainly knows how she feels. “I think the first one is always the best one,” he replies when questioned how he would compare last year’s win from his latest. “I was jumping up and down when I heard that I won,” he relates how he reacted last year. “This time, it was actually nice to win again, but I always loved winning the first time.”

It turned out that his winning entry, “The Hero of the Snore Tango,” which won in the same category and position as “Old Movies,” started out as an essay. “I write a column for a local newspaper, and my editor told me if I could write an essay about All Souls Day. So I wrote about my father, who died a few years ago,” he narrates. “I looked at the essay. I liked it very much I decided to turn it into a short story. I expanded it and I sent it out to some of my friends for comments. And they said that it was powerful enough for a Palanca entry.”

“I felt less pressure, actually,” Casocot admits when asked if he felt any pressure brought about by his consecutive wins. “But the thing is, if you’ve won one, you want to win again and again. So I don’t know if you would call it pressure… but I think you can call it addiction…”

In contrast, Niel de Mesa, who won first prize last year in the One-Act Play in Filipino category for “Subtext” and third prize this year in the same category for “I Laugh You,” admits that there is pressure at times. “But of course I try to fight that,” he quickly adds in Filipino. He also adds that he’s in fact happy that his play placed third. “It countered my expectations. It forced me to humble myself.” More importantly, as far as he’s concerned, his play had won over Debbie.

Debbie is what de Mesa lovingly calls his “spiritual partner,” and is clearly his muse behind his winning works. But between the two, he regards “I Laugh You” to be more creatively ambitious and challenging. “It aspires to be (like) Moliére, Shakespeare,” he explains in Filipino, “na slapstick… (and) the things they talk about are obscene, but the use of the language is beautiful. So I wanted to use Tagalog in that beautiful way, too; but what they talk about is the opposite.”

“I Laugh You” may be more technically challenging, but de Mesa views his win for “Subtext” to be more meaningful, more personal for him. “It was a sign from God,” he says in a sincere and reflective tone, adding that he thought “Subtext” was an incentive to go through all the challenges that he and Debbie would come across. But if nothing else, it amuses him that their memories, as embedded in his plays, would be part of “the literature of the Philippines.”

Indeed, they have. It’s quite incredible, if you think about it: how a simple and unassuming literary contest, established fifty-three years ago by an alcohol-brewing clan, has not only honored their late patriarch’s memory. It also honored our personal and national memory, as interpreted by the writers and their winning works. Not just Casocot, De Mesa, Duque, Lucero and Tan, but also the rest of the winners. Not just the past, but the future is very much present in their works. And if the fresh and familiar names who found fortune this year are any indication, the Palanca Awards can look forward for yet another fruitful literary harvest next year. (Copyright © 2003 by A.I.D.)