The Disenchanting El Niño Dry Spell Read

In this summer heat, in this hypnotic heat that clouds your eyes with a white blaze, I decided to fight fire with fire. I read Butch Dalisay’s Killing Time in a Warm Place. I’ve read a lot his work and what he’s edited but I missed this one. I even wrote about his work, and I’d like to think he has a profound, positive influence on me. To an extent, we’re starting to pass this on, as I read a few passages aloud to the little one in D.’s womb.

D. got this sale copy in of the many book fairs where we went in frenzied shopping. I couldn't recall why I didn't read this before. Thinking about it now, it's probably because I had a not-another-book-about-martial-law phase.

But now. Now was the time to read it in this heat.

It was written in the familiar, absorbing language that spoke of the First Quarter Storm in the 1970s. It beautifully struck out the elements of our national and historical consciousness: family trips to Baguio, ginataan meriendas, J&B whiskey, Oxford shoes, mami, American Imperialism, the Metrocom, Cubao, matriarchy and so on. More importantly, it didn’t glamorize the First Quarter Storm as though it was all about heroism against a dictator. From that act of precise incision into our consciousness with a degree of truthfulness, came a novel that represented reality. And this reality thoughtfully surprises you with all-consuming twists.

It was too real, to an effect, that it disappointed me. It disappointed me because it was simply cowardice and compromise that  made it honest and eloquent.

In being conducive to thought and reaction, this becomes a good book and Butch Dalisay becomes an effective author.

Right now I am committing a sin in my failure to separate the persona from the author. I no longer wish to read anything about this compromise and willingness to be subjugated from an author who abandoned one set of principles for another and excused himself by writing about it eloquently. And he might have taught the same thing to many others. Like myself, I thought of him as a sell-out.  And I'm obviously wrong, because I'm merely making excuses for myself.

I am simply reducing my reading to this context I am currently caved in. I am growing up and easing in, exchanging one principle for another or for a few comforts. In this read I am objectifying myself, and I am dissatisfied with the reality it represents.

Pretty soon I will rethink my perspectives and change my mind. Maybe even as soon as the heat simmering us now, cools down my incoherence.