"We don't write of the past except when we've been ejected from it. The only way back is through memory, haphazard and unreliable as we know memory to be, and the only means by which memory is realized is through language." --Joyce Carol Oates

Monday, May 4, 2009

UST National Writers' Workshop Day 1: The Beginning

And after all the waiting, it has finally started today! The 10th UST National Writers’ Workshop, in which I am a lucky fellow for poetry, has finally begun. Early this April, I received an email from Sir Al Dimalanta, our coordinator, announcing that I am one of the fortunate eighteen writers who qualified for this year’s workshop. Just imagine all the giddiness and excitement that I felt all throughout the weeks of waiting for my first official “baptism of fire,” so to speak. As my fellow amateur writers know, writing workshops have always been the primary step of the literary ladder, if one is really determined of honing his craft. It is a pathway leading to many possibilities in one’s writing career, which of course may either inspire one writer (or someone who just wants to write) to pursue the discipline or otherwise.

I have always dreamt of joining any writers’ workshop. Upon entering my writing organization in UP (hello, UGAT!), my orgmates, both past and present, have always given much premium on such venues, where one can examine and even shake the core of his works based on the perspective of esteemed literary scholars and creative writers. Given the various UGAT alumni who had been fellows in various local and national writers’ workshops in the past, the present crop of writers who are now running the organization have always been asked—often with resent and brooding disappointment—as to why there has been a dearth of fellowships granted to recent affiliates. And personally, as part of the current generation, this gives me so much skepticism on why this is so. Though I am still in search for the answers, various hints of evidence resurface from time to time. Does the problem lie in the writer-member? In the kinds of work we, as an organization, read, know, and produce?
That’s why it is with unexplainable joy that the organization’s present members—or more accurately, their bodies of work—are now being noticed, however slightly and slowly. Apart from me who’s been accepted to this year’s workshop in that pontifical University, whose antiquity rolls across the length of Espana, Manila, three other members—Pat, Pol, and Bote—have also qualified to the 2nd Rogelio Sicat National Writers’ Workshop of the Departmento ng Filipino at Panitikan ng Pilipinas (DFPP) in UP Diliman. If anything, these qualifications once again kindle the seemingly dying flame of our literary craftsmanship, as projected in the shoddy and sketchy writings produced in the past semesters.

So back to the 10th UST National Writers’ Workshop, which is the central point of this essay really. The first day, as I may describe, was quite silent and lenient. With the fellows just newly introduced to one another, there were indeed some inhibitions and holding back during and after the first day of workshop.

This year’s group of fellows is comprised of a mix bunch of “elitist” students (to use Dr. Ophelia Dimalanta’s description), with the inclusion of a handful of professors and graduate students from both state and private—as in Blue, Green, and Yellow—universities. During the orientation, Dr. Dimalanta swore that the UST Writer-in-Residence herself had a hard time sifting through the works and choosing the final eighteen successful applicants. Of course, upon hearing these words from the dowager of Philippine Literature—alongside the indefatigable Edith Tiempo—and a constant candidate for the National Artist for Literature Award at that—my heart of course overflowed with pride on the one hand and humility on the other.

Today’s workshop was teeming with so much wisdom and literary tips and techniques. After a sumptuous lunch of buttered vegetables, rice, and the most sosyal adobo I have ever seen and tasted in my entire life, the workshop for Tula started. Sir Eros Atalia, Professor Michael Coroza, Professor Ralph Semino-Galan, and Mr. Gerry Gracio paneled. It was indeed a tough—but I must stress, funny—bunch of panelists, since everyone was rather light and open-heartedly ready to share their knowledge in whatever way they could. For me, each of them has a distinct trademark: Sir Eros was the jester who often cracked jokes regarding the text or the author or both; Professor Mike was the toughie guy who didn’t mince words and whose comments and views, albeit tinged with the LIRA school of thought, I found exceptionally interesting and amusing; Professor Galan was more of the cutie-cutie guy whose opinions were loaded with literary criticisms that deemed to be very essential; and finally, Sir Gerry whose casual repartees and insights never failed to make me laugh and feel absorbed, respectively. Of course there was also Dr. Dimalanta who would join the panel from time to time, giving her precious and perceptive views and opinions toward the text and the author at large.

These are few of the notes that I jotted down in the process of listening and participating in the workshop for Tula:

1. In response to a text that seemed trite and too telling, Sir Eros Atalia said: “The page is a big space—write what is unsaid….”

2. Again, on the same piece, he remarked (and I paraphrase): “In writing a protest poem, make sure that propaganda won’t take over craft.”

3. According to Mr. Gracio: “I believe poems that have social relevance are the ones to last.”

4. Professor Coroza maintained that “Protest poems must be rooted in historical setting. There has been a wide range of protest literature in the past. The burden now is how to reinvent it.”

5. “Essays operate based on evidence; poems function through images, metaphors, tone, etc.”

6. “Ang pagsulat ng tula ay parang pagkanta. Napakaraming karaoke singers sa Pilipinas, pero kakaunti lang ang dinadakila sa kanila,” said Prof. Mike Coroza.
7. Sir Eros Atalia added: “Poetry is not a habit; it is a discipline.”

8. Dr. Ophelia Dimalanta butted in: “One technique I can teach you in writing poetry is: Objectify the subject, subjectify the object.”

9. She furthered that: “In literary criticism, there are three sovereignties: sovereignty of the author, the text, and the reader.”

I would love to amplify these statements as perceived by me, but I guess kapag nagkausap nalang tayo personally. Hehe!

Tomorrow, Dr. Cirilio Bautista and Dr. Ophelia Dimalanta, together with Professor Lourd De Veyra and Professor Carlomar Daoana of UST, will be paneling the session for Poetry. So: there.

Ayieeeee!

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