[Review] Love as the end all and be all of a man’s existence: Love in the Time of Cholera

Some people believe that when love is true, it will endure for a very long time or even a lifetime. In Love in the Time of Cholera, Nobel Prize-winning author in Literature Gabriel Garcia Marquez shows that time is a mere hurdle that can be jumped over by a love that never fizzles.

Set in the years before and after the turn of the 20th century, the story of Love in the Time of Cholera is about a young and docile Florentino Ariza who becomes spellbound by Fermina Daza, a newcomer in town four years his junior, from the moment he caught a glimpse of her upon delivering mail to her house. With the help of Fermina Daza’s aunt, they begin to discreetly exchange letters, their only means of communication and the channel in which they built and expressed their love. When Lorenzo Daza found out about his daughter’s clandestine relationship with a boy, who not only has close to nothing in terms of wealth but is also an illegitimate son, he forces Fermina Daza to embark on a long journey of forgetting with him to save her from the possibility of a poor marriage. On their return, Fermina Daza not only becomes disenchanted of her pubescent passion for Florentino Ariza, she also succumbs inevitably to her father’s sole ambition for her, which is to marry a wealthy gentleman with a noble family name.

Florentino Ariza is devastated when he learns of Fermina Daza’s marriage to Dr. Juvenal Urbino, a promising doctor who is considered the most eligible bachelor in the city since his return from Europe. To pass the time, he engages in numerous affairs with young ladies, married women, and most of all, widows, for he is convinced that once Dr. Juvenal Urbino is dead, he will make his “crowned goddess” a happy widow. More than fifty years after his declaration of love and fidelity, an old and wrinkly Florentino Ariza finds himself in the wake of Fermina Daza’s husband, repeating the same vows to her.

Evidently the most notable aspect of Love in the Time of Cholera is the richness of its language, and with Marquez’s masterful use of this weapon, the colorful sceneries of 20th century Colombia comes alive with almost HD quality in the reader’s imagination. In whatever part of the world she may be, the reader is transported to the world of Florentino Ariza and Fermina Daza. Although an external character of this setting, the reader almost feels the beads of sweat trickling from her forehead due to the sweltering heat of the Caribbean afternoons as the speckles of dust sting her skin when warm winds blow from the bay. That is how vivid Marquez sets the stage for every part of the novel, abundantly adding beauty to the story.

Aside from the opulent surroundings that Marquez paints throughout the novel, another strong suit of the story is how he builds up the characters. One can easily picture Florentino Ariza as the unassuming, timid person who looks the part of a hopeless romantic but, based on this very appearance, wouldn’t be thought of as capable of countless debaucheries. The shrewd Fermina Daza is the steadfast wife with a strong personality that, when provoked, is capable of forcing anyone – even her husband – into submission. Her other half Dr. Juvenal Urbino is the intelligent gentleman whose expertise in the field of medicine is second to none but who is also no better than anyone when tempted by the seduction of another woman. These characters are familiar, as you recognize them in yourself or in acquaintances whose stories you know.

Even more familiar are the touches of petty domestic conflicts between Fermina Daza and Dr. Urbino, which provide much needed pauses of comic relief. A married reader – or even someone who has seen her parents bicker – will smile and agree that things as trivial as the disappearance of soap in the bathroom can trigger a lover’s quarrel that can last for days. Wives and moms will identify with Fermina Daza in her daily dilemma of what to prepare for dinner. Such strokes of narrative brilliance can only be borne out of a keen observation and/or a deep knowledge on the nature of marital relationships.

Deviating from the common, however, is Florentino Ariza. His relentless pursuit of Fermina Daza along with his firm belief that they will eventually end up together no matter how long that will take borders on lunacy. One situation that illustrates this bizarre disposition is when he insisted on buying from a restaurant an antique mirror on whose reflection he inconspicuously relished the sight of Fermina Daza for more than an hour. He believes that by possessing the mirror, he preserves the memory of the woman he saw on the other side. One also has to wonder if it is at all possible to have affairs with 622 different women and not have one of them known in a “city where everything was known before it happened.” Although unapparent, Marquez perhaps meant these absurd situations to be attributed to a bit of magic realism.

In spite of its many good points, Love in the Time of Cholera is not a book recommended for those who are used to reading stories with linear plots. The reader will experience many dips and rises within the timeline that not rarely does it become difficult to follow the story’s progression. Within the length of five paragraphs, the camera can take drastic dives back to different points in the past. The book will probably also be a struggle to read for eyes that get tired or bored with long and highly descriptive blocks of text, as the exchanges of dialogue in this story are scarce. But when one stays long enough to get the hang of Marquez’s writing style, she will cruise along the lengthy descriptions and chronological changes and find appreciation for these same devices.

From its very first sentence: “It was inevitable: the scent of bitter almonds always reminded him of the fate of unrequited love” down to its culmination that contains the word “forever,” Love in the Time of Cholera sets its readers in a romantic trance that will make even the most stoic wonder if there can really be a love so powerful, however unrequited, that it could not be doused by either space or time and that it is a reason for living rather than dying.

Tags: books, fiction, foreign, reviews

[Review] An Invitation To Board The Train Of Thought

Amid the rustle and bustle of daily life, who has the time to stop and smell the roses?

Except for a wealthy few who can afford not to work a 9 to 5 shift, almost no one can. This is why the National Book Development Board (NBDB) brought poetry to the commuting public through a project dubbed as “Tulaan sa Tren.” Taking inspiration from similar events that already took place in New York and Madrid, Spain, the NBDB coordinated with the Light Railway Transit Association (LRTA) to post in the LRT stations posters of poems by the Philippines’ finest poets. In addition, recordings of the poems, read by selected entertainment personalities, were also played in the trains during the most populated hours for commuters to listen to and appreciate. Through this project, the NBDB hoped to entice the masses to read more and read the works of local writers.

Noble as the aim of the project may be, it – like all good things – has come to an end after six months. The NBDB then came up with the idea of immortalizing the poems featured in the project through a more traditional method: collating the poems and publishing it into a book along with an audio CD containing the tracks of the readings. The book Train of Thought: poems from Tulaan sa Tren materialized. If you, like me, didn’t get a chance to experience riding the LRT with verses being read in the background, as your daily commute doesn’t require you to ride the train, this book is good news. Their goal, after all, is for Philippine poetry to spread to as many ears as possible.

Having read only a handful of poetry collections, I think Train of Thought is an excellent starting point for Filipinos who are looking to read more poems by the prominent figures in Philippine literature. It gives them a glimpse of the vast and often unacknowledged creative talent that’s existing in the country. Among such great poets featured in the collection is National Artist for Literature Jose Garcia Villa whose heartnreaking poem “To A Lady Going to Antipolo,” read by actor Edu Manzano, talks about a man who continues to love a woman who has gone to Antipolo perhaps because she has left him or she has gone to work as an entertainer of men there – I’m really not that good in interpreting poetry. He describes his unrelenting love in these verses:

“The arms of dancers around you shall be my arms./ The eyes of men admiring you shall be my eyes./ I have many arms, many eyes./ It is that, loving you, I have become many lovers.”

Another significant name, which most will probably recognize from their lessons in high school or college, is Quijano de Manila or Nick Jaoquin whose poem “The Innocence of Solomon” gave me goosebumps when I listened to actress Chin-chin Gutierrez’s vocal interpretation of it. Saying that it’s good is not enough; Ms. Chin-chin’s voice is so eerie and chilling that she might as well be delivering a very scary ghost story rather than a poem. On the subject of good deliveries, Romnick Sarmenta’s reading of Jose “Pete” F. Lacaba’s “Ang Mga Kagila-gilalas na Paglalakbay ni Juan de la Cruz,” which is about life of the ordinary Juan de la Cruz in the city amid many restrictions in an impoverished society that ultimately led him to go to the mountains to pick up arms, is amusing as it is moving.

Poems in the collection that also give vivid illustrations of the everyday life of many Filipinos include Julian Cruz Balmaseda’s “Ale-aleng Namamayong,” National Artist for Literature Virgilio Almario’s “Dyipni,” National Artist for Literature Bienvenido Lumbera’s “Voyagers on Recto Avenue,” and Alain Russ Dimzon’s “Inday Diutay.” Aside from these works that depict social realism, there are also poems that do more than little tugs on the heartstrings; they include “I Teach My Child” by Gemino H. Abad, “Shadow and Pedestrian” by Vincenz Serrano, and “The Krag-and-Bayonet Phase (A Love Song)” by Ricardo de Ungria.

I discovered by listening to the audio CD in one sitting – while flipping through the pages of the book to follow what was being read – that there were poems that didn’t have a spot in the CD’s track list, as well as there were poems in the CD that were not printed on the book. The last track came as a surprise to me, as it was not on the book, but it’s my all-time favorite poem by a Filipino writer: Edith Tiempo’s “Bonsai.” It will always be a reminder for me to simplify not only love, but many things that tend to become too complicated and difficult to contain in a “cupped-hand size.”

With that said, Train of Thoughtis a reading journey worth taking. Not reading it, or any of the works of our local writers, is such a waste because it is the kind of literature that evokes feelings that you thought you’ve forgotten and gives different light to street sceneries that you usually dismiss as normal. It is the kind of literature that drives people to change.

 The copy that I have is only loaned from a friend. The only problem now is where to procure my own copy of it.

Tags: books, filipino, poetry, reviews

Poetry For November

To kick off this blog, I’ll be featuring four poetry collections in the next posts. Three are by the Philippines’ crème de la crème and one by an American writer. They are:

• Train of Thought: Poems from Tulaan sa Tren — This is loaned to me by one of my colleagues because we often talk about literature. I was excited to read it the moment she handed it to me. It comes with an audio CD containing some of the country’s entertainment personalities’ readings of the poems on the anthology. But that’s not the only reason why I’m so psyched to read this collection; the poems were written by Philippine literary giants like Nick Joaquin, Bienvenido Lumbera, and Cirilo Bautista, to name a few.
• Reaching Destination: Poems and the Search for Home by Nerisa del Carmen Guevara — Borrowed this also from another colleague. (I’m so fortunate to have a few of them who are interested in literature.) As with the previous collection, this also comes with an audio CD featuring musicians Barbie Almalbis, Aia De Leon of Imago, and Carol Bello of Pinikpikan. Unfortunately, my coworker loaned me the book only.
• Dapitan Poetry in 2003 — This collection is loaned to me by the same coworker who owns the copy of Reaching Destination. It’s the first volume of Dapitan, the literary folio of the University of Santo Tomas’ Faculty of Arts  and Letters’ publication, The Flame. I just marvel at the high level of Thomasian creativity and talent.
• The Moon Is Always Female by Marge Piercy — This is the only anthology I won of the four. Intrigued by the cat and moon on the cover, I bought it at Booksale for just P20. Score! With the exception of the classics (Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Pablo Neruda, etc.), it’s the first modern, foreign poetry collection I will read because I’ve been reading only local poets.

To be honest, I can’t write poetry to save my life, and I’ve neither reviewed nor written about a poetry anthology before. So I’m going to write very subjective reviews. Please forgive my lack of knowledge on the theories in poetry.

Tags: books, filipino, poetry