Dear F. Sionil Jose,
I would like to call you "Manong" like my friend Hendri, but I've only met you once, so I don't think I've already earned that privilege. But I am here to say albeit belatedly that it has been the utmost privilege to have met you in 2013.
In your speech at CAP before our show began, you said that you wrote "to give Filipinos a sense of memory." And I am writing this letter to keep your memory alive.
I woke up today with the gloomy news of your passing. You were 97. I know you have lived such a full life: a multi-awarded author whose prolific career spanned seven decades. You wrote novels, short stories, political commentaries, etc. I love your short stories the most. Aside from "Progress," which introduced me to you, I can't forget how "Puppy Love" rendered me speechless at the end that I just had to teach it to my Philippine Literature class at the time.
This is only the second volume I have of your works. With the political climate we have now, it's high time to reread and reflect. That's what you did best: address sociopolitical issues through the lives of realistic, relatable characters.
Manong (if I may call you that), I wish I took you up on your offer to visit you at your Solidaridad book shop in Ermita. I have always imagined us talking about literature and life over cups of coffee. But that shall remain a wish because I never had the chance to visit you.
Yet I am happy to have these keepsakes: a photo of you at your book shop and a signed copy of your book. These are treasures I shall always keep.
The cast of Progress the Musical. Official photo by Little Boy Productions
Little Boy Productions' staging of a musical adaptation of your short story "Progress" introduced me to you and your body of work. Wow. I was amazed to know that you were a Philippine National Artist for Literature. That your works have been translated in many different languages around the world. Last year, I have read that France has promoted you to the rank of Officier (Officer) of the Ordre des Arts et des Lettres (Order of Arts and Letters).
Photo from my co-actor Anne Valerie's FB page. We were all excited to have you at the CAP Auditorium. Our producer, Hendri, introduced you formally to us. It took him years to get the rights to produce the play, and to have you in one of the shows was an honor of the highest order.
Oftentimes, people would say, "Do not meet your heroes," because we'd just end up disappointed. Perhaps because it's somehow difficult to accept that they're also humans with flaws. But I didn't experience that with you. You were down-to-earth and full of wisdom. You were like a grandfather to me. It was the best night of my thespian life.
Hands down, Progress the Musical was the best production I've been a part of. And I've been a part of Les Miserables. Yes, you are up there with Victor Hugo, sir. It was your masterful storytelling that gave us actors the foundation to work on our characters. It was your keen observation of the excesses of the Martial Law Era. It was your vivid imagery of the Philippine local color. It was your profound understanding of the Filipino psyche. It was your deep love for your country that you wished for PROGRESS.
I'm going to reread this story again today in honor of your memory.
The question, unfortunately even until your death, remains the same: Have we progressed as a nation? What is progress? I think we need to go back to that. But you need to leave it to us now. We can only hope that we can indeed see real progress within our lifetime.
You told us over the after-show dinner how you survived World War II and the Marcos regime. You even said that you shifted from journalism to creative writing because literary authors were less likely to be jailed during Martial Law. I have read your commentary on the ABS-CBN closure with those in mind. Even your post about Maria Ressa. We both have the same doubt on her award.
In this photo, we were looking at some videos and news articles about the musical while waiting for dinner to be served at sir Hendri's East, West cafe. That's sir Hendri on his iPad, and your dear wife is sitting across you. She was so sweet and supportive. You were blessed to have each other.
Do you know what's my biggest takeaway from that fateful dinner? You asked me what my job was. I told you I was a teacher of language and literature at a university. Then you quipped with a spark in your eyes that we were both CULTURAL WORKERS. I will never forget that.
You added that it would be best if I would teach in high school because that's the best time to develop students' love for literature. College, you added, is already focused on building one's career.
Sir, I think you would be happy to know that I am now teaching in high school. And you were right.
Photo by Little Boy Productions. I played six different characters in Progress, and this is my favorite--the zombie clerk. It always got the biggest laugh from the audience. It was funny and bitingly true at the same time.
I would like to thank you for inspiring me back then, an inspiration that has continued to ripple until now and shall remain so for as long as you are remembered. And I know I am not alone in this, for I am but just one of the many people, Filipinos and foreigners alike, who admire you for your work and wisdom.
As we were wrapping up at dinner, we asked you, "What keeps you up at night?"
"A brilliant idea," you replied with a smile.
Farewell, Manong. Until we meet again. Maraming salamat po. ❤🙏🌸
Photo by Little Boy Productions
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