Not so imaginary interviews

Last week’s self-interview portion in our review of Wilfredo Pascua Sanchez’s poetry book gave us an idea on what to offer today, for a change of pace. Heh-heh. Okay, it also gives us an out as we say we’re outta here for sometime. No time to pore over more books and render commentary. Easier to put together a couple of interviews on file that you might consider imaginary. But I tell you, this pair of Q&A’s really transpired, and to my knowledge they haven’t been published. We put them together here to survive the deadline onslaught, among other objectives.

The first was conducted by a couple of literature students of Singapore’s premier poet Robert Yeo, an old buddy with whom we shared a flat in Iowa City in the early weeks of the IWP or International Writers Program, way back in 1978. Earlier this year when we had occasion to visit the Lion City, Robert introed us to these charming young ladies who attended a poetry reading we took part in. A week later, back in Manila, we received a request for an interview to be conducted by e-mail. We acceded, and heard later that they received As for their effort. Well, anything to help kids out when it comes to literature..

Here’s that interview with Charissa Chiam and Meiyan Chow of Singapore Management University:

Do you have other aspirations besides being a poet? What are they? How has becoming a poet changed your outlook?

Besides continuing to function well as a poet and writer, and gardener and lush, of course I’d like my share of the good life, and hope to leave something to my children, in more ways than one. There are still many places in this world I would like to set foot on. If I had the wherewithal, I’d like to publish other poets’ and writers’ works, and fund other literary and cultural projects.

Regarding the third question, I can’t really say. I guess I’ve always had a "poetic" nature, even before I became a poet. That means being sensitive and aware, among other things, and always trying to see everything in a different light. I still have that outlook.

In your opinion, what’s the greatest motivating force behind your poetry?

The need to express myself. Second would be the desire to leave a legacy.

Given that you have been brought up in the Philippines, are you more comfortable writing in your mother tongue or in English? Why?

I’ve been more comfortable with English because I was trained early in the language, by my parents and through early schooling. My familiarity with the mother tongue, meaning Tagalog or what’s now being passed off as Filipino, is rather confined to street Tagalog, because I was born and raised in Manila, the capital city, which is not exactly the cradle of pure or deep Tagalog such as what is spoken in Southern Luzon or other proximate provinces.

While I can write and have written in Tagalog or Filipino, this has been confined to certain genres in which dialogue is at a premium -— such as playwriting, and screenplay writing for both television and film. I cannot hope to compete well with my peers who have been trained better in the literary use of Tagalog or Filipino when it comes to poetry, fiction, or the essay form.

As a poet, what do you see as your strengths and weaknesses? How would you choose to improve yourself in terms of your writing? If you were to do a review of your works, what would you like to change, considering your current frame of mind, status and lifestyle?

Firstly, it would be my veteran understanding of the English language, a flair for fresh articulation, as well as a mastery of the technical workings of verse. I would also cite my interest in fresh cerebral concerns and themes, which helps me avoid falling into the common traps that are the tried-and-tested paths in poetry. As for weaknesses, that’s not for me to say.

Re the second question, the only way really that one can strengthen his/her writing is to keep on reading, and experiencing life in most of its facets, and writing, writing, writing.

Re the third question, one shouldn’t really regret anything one has tried in the past when it comes to creativity, as it’s the continuum of evolution as an artist that is important. There are phases in one’s career or work that may be identified as having been weak, but these too were part of the growth period, and may simply be characterized as lulls or breathers, and as such still helped in the maturing process.

Having traveled widely, how do you compare the Asian poetry scene vis-à-vis that of the Western world? Does poetry still have a stronghold in Asian countries? Given a chance, would you move to another country that has stronger support for your poetry?

The poetry I’ve been reading, especially of late, that’s written by my fellow Filipinos, in English, as well as those by other Asians, especially Singaporeans, have been dynamic indeed, more dynamic in fact than most of what I encounter from the West. It’s been said that the empire is striking back by using (and taking possession of) the colonial language. How true. We also have fresher ideas and concerns.

The second question presupposes that poetry has always had a stronghold in the region, which is debatable.

Re the third question, I would move wherever there is a better opportunity to improve my family’s chances for a better, uhh, quality of life. If that includes stronger support for my writing, better yet.

Have you felt the pressure or need to retire from the poetry scene, now that you have received so many accolades? Or would you still want to continue to contribute to the best of your ability, bearing in mind the challenges that await you? At what age do you plan to retire?

There’s no pressure or need to retire or rest on one’s laurels. I intend to continue to participate in meeting the challenge of always improving on poetry, and literature in general. There is no such thing as retirement for a poet or writer. We are not employed by a company that will force us to retire, and compensate us with retirement benefits. We will always have our memories and fresh experiences and insights to rely on for material.

From your reading of your poems, we noted excellent use of metaphors and imagery. Are they part of your natural talent or were they influenced by someone?

Perhaps both. I have a highly visual imagination. Most of the poets I have admired, and who may be acknowledged as being strong influences, excelled in imagery and metaphorical language.

Finally, what would be your advice to students like us of the next generation, with regards to enhancing our potential towards writing good poetry?

The one advice I always try to impart to young people, young writers, is to read, read, read. Reading everything one can lay one’s hands on accelerates the process of acquiring discrimination in literary taste and influences. Then one gets to read only what’s really worth reading, and emulating. Then, after emulating what one considers the best exemplars in literature, the next step is to find, or create and/or establish, one’s own distinctive voice.

The second interview was conducted with a small group of colleges students from the Visayas, who should best remain unidentified. E-mail practice has certainly made it easier to engage in conversation even with strangers who share one’s interests.

They posed 30 questions, so that our initial reply was in this wise: "Wow, ang dami naman nito. It’ll eat up so much into my time, so I’ll be succinct. Hope you don’t mind." The Q&A still turned out lengthy, so here’s sharing only some of the queries and replies:

Why do you write?

It’s my career, my bread and butter, my vocation. I used to say "to scratch an itch." It’s creative self-expression. It’s what I know best.

What was your first literary piece? Was it published?

Early poems were published in Philippine Collegian and Ateneo’s Heights. The first story came out in Philippines Free Press.

What do you want your readers to feel or learn after reading any of your books?

I don’t know. Not my responsibility. Bahala sila.

During your childhood years, who were your favorite writers? Did their works contribute to the molding of your style in writing?

Not really childhood years, but teen years – e.e. cummings. Jose Garcia Villa. Nick Joaquin. T.S. Eliot. John Steinbeck. Ernest Hemingway. Progressively, through W.B. Yeats, W.H. Auden, Dylan Thomas, Wallace Stevens, Donald Barthelme, Jorge Luis Borges ... Of course early favorites help in molding the eventual style one adopts.

You have met several writers from your study grants abroad. Did they, in a way, change the way you write?

No. One or two may have had a particularly fine sample of work that led to a certain direction which I then also tried to pursue. I don’t recall any particular writer I met, local or foreign, who influenced or changed the way I wrote.

We read in the UMPIL’s Directory of Filipino Writers that you studied at Philippine Women’s University. What was your course and was it part of your writing career?

I enrolled for a sem at PWU College of Music & Fine Arts, together with a buddy with whom I lost UP tuition money at the Jai Alai. So we went to Women’s instead cuz the tuition was very low. Besides, cute ng mga Bayanihan dancers who became classmates. They inspired us to do portraits and poems.

Among your colleagues, who is/are your favorite(s)?

Gémino Abad, Cirilo Bautista, Ricardo de Ungria, Cesar Ruiz Aquino, Eric Gamalinda, Ramon Sunico, Marne Kilates, Rowena Tiempo Torrevillas, Merlie Alunan, Marjorie Evasco, Luisa Igloria, Simeon Dumdum, Anthony Tan, Ruel de Vera, and all of the other PLAC (Philippine Literary Arts Council) poet-members. Among the fiction writers, Erwin Castillo, Butch Dalisay, Susan Lara, Charlson Ong, Bing Sitoy, Sarge Lacuesta.. Honestly, it’s a lengthening list.

Why do you write children’s books?

I get inspired lang sometimes. I tried my hand at it when my children were children, to see if they would appreciate it. Then I wound up co-writing a published, illustrated story with our bunso and only daughter Mirava, when she was but five years old.

If English had not been introduced in the Philippines, would you still be a writer? If yes, in what language?

Don’t know. Hypothetical question. Probably Tagalog.

You don’t use Filipino as a medium. Why?

I’m much better in English. My Filipino is street Tagalog, cuz I was born and grew up in Manila. Can’t compete with the Bulacan- or Quezon-bred poets in Filipino. I’ve done Tagalog or Filipino writing in genres such as screenplays and plays. If it involves mostly dialogue, I can hold my own. Also wrote one children’s story in Tagalog. So I do use the medium occasionally. And I’ve translated poetry in Filipino to English.

Are you comfortable with the power and dominance of English in our country?

Yup. If you can call it that. Writers in English have a greater reach and audience. Writers in Filipino may not even have as wide a reach as those who write in Cebuano or Ilocano, I think.

As a Filipino writer in English, do you think your books will still survive with the penetration of globalism, or rest with the rise of nationalism?

Don’t understand the question, especially the first part. But nationalism does not necessarily rest on language. Besides, I’ve sometimes thought that nationalism is for the birds. Why should I be forced to love or take pride in where I came from, just because I came from there? If we all did that on a primary level, we’d all stay within the confines of our hometowns. As for globalization, masaya nga to compete in a larger field. It’s more of a challenge than being a big fish in a small pond.

Are you optimistic that Filipino writers will someday overpower European and American writers?

Not naman overpower, as writers don’t do that to one another. But to be competitive, to be at par, or to be better, one on one – certainly it can happen; it already IS happening.

Dr. Gémino Abad in his A Native Clearing states that Filipino writers have colonized English. Do you agree or not?

In a way, yes. That’s a cute or charming way of saying we’ve imposed our will, our spirit, our imagination, our memory, and our own stylistic ek-ek on the language.

Unfortunately we lost this book, which contains your stories with extremely long sentences. It’s fantastic! Where did you get the idea? Is it a form of protest against traditional sentences?

No idea which exactly you’re referring to among my books of fiction. In any case, I don’t write to protest anything. Writing very long sentences is just a muscle-baring exercise, showing off what you can do with the language, but only if and when it fits the circumstance, of course.

We have observed that your political and historical books’ tone is a mixture of comedy and sarcasm. Why?

I like being a comic writer. I enjoy satire, and turning traditional, conventional matters on their heads, so to speak..

You were born at the end of World War II. You were 27 years old when Marcos declared Martial Law. You were also a witness of the first EDSA Revolution of 1986. Are these some of the reasons why most of your post-Martial Law works deal with political issues? Did these last two transform you into a new writer?

I was never transformed into anything, least of all as a writer. No, some materials from that period, or from those two political developments, simply went into my work because I have a special memory of them.

In which part of the Marcos regime was your writing so intense and extreme? Was it pre-Martial Law, during, or post-Martial Law?

Martial Law didn’t really affect my writing. If anything, the period provided some memories which can then be tapped for use when called for or dictated – pardon the pun – by the fictional or poetic circumstance.

If you were to choose between religion and politics, which would you prefer to write on for your next books? Why?

Neither. I’m not a great fan of either subject or practice. But in the context of the Philippines being intensely subjected to both, then necessarily they would show up in my writing.

If we were to evaluate your success, in a scale of 1 to10 where 10 is excellent, it would be 10. Personally, are you contented with what you have achieved?

One should never be content or contented when it comes to artistic or creative development. One may be satisfied with a particular poem or story, but one always seeks to evolve. Or should seek to evolve further as a creative writer. And as a person.

Would you agree with us if we conclude that the unifying theme of all your books narrates and criticizes the Philippines’ socio-political conditions?

I wouldn’t agree. They play a part, but they’re not the dominant theme (or nature or characteristic), which is, rather, usually a sense of play and the personal exploitation of certain materials and threads, as well as constant experimentation.