Hope and Memory

On 18 September, 10am ET, the online Zoom event for the announcement of the manuscript that would win the 2022 Gaudy Boy Poetry Book Prize started. The organisers of the prize, Singapore Unbound and Gaudy Boy Press, are based in New York.

It was 4pm in Cape Town, South Africa where I was, half a world away from my country of birth, the Philippines which is six hours ahead. By the time I was about to read, the son and namesake of the former dictator, Ferdinand Marcos, was landing in New Jersey. It was his first time to return to the USA where numerous legal cases had been filed against him and his family. But he was untouchable, having gained diplomatic immunity as the supposed president of the Philippines in the recent elections which “failed to meet the international standard of a free, honest and fair election” according to the International Observer Mission.

On 21 September 1972, the late dictator announced martial law in the country. His regime was brought to a dramatic end when the people chased his family out of the presidential palace in 1986. Now the Marcos family appears to be back in power, propped up by the brutal legacy of the Duterte regime. They are once again flaunting their excesses without a hint of remorse for all those years of tormenting a people.

So on that day, as part of the five shortlisted poets for the Gaudy Boy Poetry Book Prize, I decided to highlight particular poems from my manuscript, Waking Up to the Pattern Left by a Snail Overnight, that hoped to revisit the martial law years. With my voice quaking, I read from a prepared text:

This September marks the 50th anniversary of the declaration of Martial Law in the Philippines by the late deposed dictator Ferdinand Marcos. The lies that continue to be spread by Cambridge Analytica-trained social media handlers of the Marcoses will keep trying to decimate the memory of those who fought the regime.

My manuscript doesn’t just tackle martial law, but I chose these particular poems today to highlight the anniversary of the declaration.

I did not think my manuscript would win. For many years my country of birth, sad to say, never really took to my work as I had hoped. I have had more recognition in South Africa and elsewhere. I was told not just a few times to consider stopping putting out books, for who reads them anyway?

Days after the announcement, sometimes even when I’m driving, I would still suddenly be struck by a surge of emotion not unlike when I momentarily remembered a loved one who had just died. But this time, instead of tremendous grief, it was of overflowing joy.

I will have to keep reading this press release to remind myself that maybe I should keep writing no matter what happens:

What presence, what exquisite sensitivity. Such perspicacity of mind and heart illuminates Jim Pascual Agustin’s crystalline poems. Masterfully observed, shone through with Zen penetration, these songs of innocence and experience divine a universe of complex lives lived, torn asunder, celebrated, and mended. You are enveloped in these entirely believable scenarios filled with people and creatures finding themselves in everyday moments, and extraordinary circumstances. With a few deft strokes, many of the poems here range far and delve inwards. Politics, nationality, identity, family, laws of nature – everything everywhere all at once, yet intimately, pulsatingly at home.
Prize Citation by judge Yeow Kai Chai

Thank you, Yeow Kai Chai, for finding something worthy in my work. Thank you, Jee Leong Koh and the wonderful team behind the Gaudy Boy Poetry Book Prize.

Books by Jim Pascual Agustin

Bloodred Dragonflies (Deep South, 2022/San Anselmo Publications, 2022)

Crocodiles in Belfast & other poems (San Anselmo Publications, 2020)

How to Make a Salagubang Helicopter & other poems (San Anselmo Publications, 2019)

Wings of Smoke (The Onslaught Press, 2017)

Sanga sa Basang Lupa at iba pang kuwento (University of Sto. Tomas Publishing House, 2016)

A Thousand Eyes (USTPH, 2015)

Kalmot ng Pusa sa Tagiliran (USTPH, 2013)

Sound Before Water (USTPH, 2013)

Baha-bahagdang Karupukan (USTPH, 2011)

Alien to Any Skin (USTPH, 2011)

Salimbayan (Publikasyong Sipat, 1994)

Beneath an Angry Star (Anvil Publishing, 1992)

2022 GAUDY BOY POETRY BOOK PRIZE!

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Something about a snail

From 4.30am ET on 30 August 2022 I will be allowed to share some good news. It is an unexpected and welcome gift – yes, I prefer to see it as a gift – that gives comfort and hope for the act and journey of writing that is often solitary and unrecognised.

So until tomorrow then. For now I shall share this photo of a snail that escaped being crushed by my large and clumsy feet.

Bloodred Dragonflies on video attempts

I’ve been fiddling with a free video app to try and share my work. The results may not be effective – and are definitely far from perfect. But hey, without a budget and much experience, whatever comes out of the exercise will have to suffice for now.

I’ve created a playlist that should have more as I go along. It’s on YouTube. Care to subscribe? I won’t get anything out of this. Hahaha. Not by a long shot.

The playlist should be updated automatically as I add more videos.

Grabbed from The Schooner Newsletter

Dear Schooner Newsletter Readers, Exciting news! We are officially back on schedule. During these last few months, as we’ve reformulated the look of the newsletter and updated how we go about bringing it to life, one thing has remained constant… we’ve given you a sampling of intriguing new poetry book releases from every single calendar month. We’re excited to be bringing you, before May comes to an end, a list of fifteen excellent May releases that we think are worth checking out. Enjoy! And, as always, please feel free to send any questions or comments to schooner.litmag@gmail.com! Best,The Schooner Newsletter Team

Jim Pascual Agustin‘s Bloodred Dragonflies, translated from the Filipino by the author, is out this month from Deep South. Click here to read an interview with Agustin critiquing United States-based publishers for failing to put out global titles and click here to listen to Agustin read his poem “The Breath of Sparrows” on the Dr. Ahmed’s Poetry Reading Hub YouTube channel.

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Hotazel Review Issue One features two of my poems

Hotazel Review has released its first issue. Two of my poems were able to make the cut. Thank you to the great editors of this new online journal that aims to showcase new work from Africa and beyond.

Here is the LINK to my poems.

Read the rest of the issue!

Recognition or Oblivion

Recognition or Oblivion

I wish to congratulate my good friend, Joel H. Vega, whose book, Drift, was awarded the Philippine National Book Award for Poetry in English for 2019. My own book, How to Make a Salagubang Helicopter & other poems, was the co-finalist.

In previous years two other books of mine were recognized as finalists by the National Book Development Board: Baha-bahagdang Karupukan (poetry in Filipino) and Sanga sa Basang Lupa at iba pang kuwento (short stories in Filipino).

There are many books published every year in the Philippines. I’m grateful that the NBDB has seen my work worthy of being noticed multiple times.

I think it is an interesting exercise, these awards. They aim to spread literacy and book appreciation. They could be seen as stepping stones to bigger things. More book deals for the author, maybe an increase in sales.

But in a way, these awards could be misleading. They could also act as a type of gatekeeping. Will those books that never got noticed by the gatekeepers be “forgotten” or will the readers who admire such books make certain they are not left out, that they are actually read and appreciated.

Who chooses – who are these gatekeepers – and what is the process of their selection? More so, if funds spent on these awards are public funds, surely the public – perhaps as represented by librarians in schools and universities – should have some say?

I am posing these questions after having read how the National Book Awards in the US is conducted. https://www.nationalbook.org/national-book-awards/how-works/

At the same time, I am not totally ignorant of the absence of libraries in public places in the Philippines. The biggest libraries are in exclusive universities – for the children of the elite – and in some properly functioning public universities. There is no actual nationwide library system. Public education has made sure of a highly literate, though impoverished, population. This literacy has been useful in getting employment locally through call centers in the cities and through many positions of service outside the country.

I grew up speaking Filipino. English is not my mother tongue. My mother and father grew up speaking Ilocano and Tagalog/Filipino, and perhaps one other local language. English came to me through public school and Sesame Street. Books came much later, years after I consumed local comic books from a stand in a wet market on the walk back home of a good few kilometers.

In my youth, I had no experience of what it’s like reading books that weren’t required at school. The so-called library at the public school I went to had stuffed animals instead of real books.

I would like to be surprised by being told that the situation is much different now compared to decades ago, that there is now a public library at every barangay.

The first library I entered and was able to use was in a Jesuit-run high school. I was lucky enough to receive a financial scholarship through the singular efforts and kindness of an Irish American, the late Fr. James O’Brien. He also shared his love of learning to hundreds of young, less privileged students like me. He taught us English through stories and poetry, while making clear that it was to be used so we could stand up for ourselves among those who considered the local languages inferior. He spoke excellent Filipino and Bicolano.

That library – and later the university library and the British Council library in Manila – became a kind of refuge for me. They felt more holy than all the churches and chapels that dotted the country.

So where to start with spreading a wider appreciation of books in the Philippines? I’m not saying ditch these awards. They are one way, though perhaps quite flawed, of leading possible readers to discover an author or a book.

In order to truly expand the appreciation of books, there would have to be a healthy reading public. You cannot force people to read, but you should provide them with libraries where they can experience for themselves the joys of reading.

The National Book Development Board, with the help of the Department of Education, should work towards building a national public library network. These libraries could be initially stocked with the literary output of Filipino authors published by established publishers as well as by smaller independent publishers, even brave authors who self-publish work that might not seem “easily marketable” by a publishing house. They should fill these libraries with books in as many Philippine languages as possible. Translations of international work to the local languages should be encouraged and funded. After that, instead of spending public funds, they should welcome donations of international titles.

What then of the existing structures for these awards? I’m an outsider, to be honest. Always have been. Perhaps I’m a little sore that my work has only been partly recognized again by the gatekeepers.

A few years back I released a poetry book – Alien to Any Skin (UST Publishing House, 2011) – alongside the shortlisted Baha-bahagdang Karupukan. I was deeply disappointed that Alien to Any Skin was not even shortlisted, though thankful that the other book was. It was a very special paper child, Alien, if I may say so. There, I’ve said it now.

How to Make a Salagubang Helicopter & other poems is an altogether different book, but no less special. It is a book that demands a readership and recognition now, not just because of the poetry, but also because of the pertinent issues it challenges the reader to face: bullying, violence, and, more particularly, the deadly consequences of the fake war on drugs by the Duterte regime. It also contains poems that have little to do with such issues, and more about a search for a common humanity.

These days the Philippines is ground zero for social media misinformation. The basic literacy that Filipinos received through the public school system is what has made them vulnerable to the lies that the current regime uses to block legitimate criticism.

I hope that my book won’t be left in the halls of oblivion. I want it to one day be read, sooner rather than later, by more critical thinking readers.

How to Make a Salagubang Helicopter & other poems is widely available in both independent and chain book stores in the Philippines or through the Facebook page or website of San Anselmo Publications. A Kindle edition is also available on Amazon.

Langa, for the first time

October 1994 was the first time I had a glimpse of Langa. From the air, as the domestic plane which brought me from Johannesburg descended toward Cape Town International, Langa looked like a massive quilt with uneven stitching.

Each time I leave and return to Cape Town I would see that imposing landscape. Yet I never set foot there, not until last Thursday, 17 May 2018. I drove to Langa for an event organised by the Jacana Literary Foundation to meet with local aspiring poets. It was a hastily put together affair, and despite the initial awkwardness it turned out into an eye-opening impromptu performance/sharing/workshop with all participants ending up laughing together as though we’d known each other for years.

Fellow poets Moses Seletisha (First Prize winner of the 2017 Sol Plaatje EU Poetry Award) and Rabbie Serumula were also there to share their thoughts and amazing words.

I read two poems by other poets and then one of my own (one of the three that was included in The Sol Plaatje European Union Poetry Anthology VII).

Today I’ll share the one called “Lament for a Dead Cow” which I discovered by accident in the anthology Sunburst.

Wings of Smoke gets reviewed on Eclectica Magazine

I’m always thankful for every reader who spends some time with my work – whether it’s a haiku attempt, an essay,  a story, a poem. Then there’s that completely different kind of high when someone not only reads a whole book, but writes a review to share what s/he feels about it.

Wings of Smoke received very warm reviews from Aerodrome and The FilAm. And now this one from Ecletica Magazine! Lovers of poetry will find Jennifer Finstrom’s review engaging and, I hope, make readers consider getting a copy of the book.

Canopic Jar features my poetry!

Fellow Onslaught Press author and amazing poet Rethabile Masilo, winner of the Glenna Luschei Prize for African Poetry, invited me to send work for consideration at Canopic Jar, an arts journal. I was delighted, but could only hope the other editors of the online journal would like my work. It turns out they did!

On Friday, 12 May 2017, Rethabile tagged me on Facebook to say that my work is on the “Featured Voices” section of Canopic Jar. But I couldn’t get online to post and share the news until now.

HERE is the LINK to Canopic Jar. Hope you enjoy and share the page with your friends, or anyone who you think might like such poetry.

Thank you, Rethabile! More power to Canopic Jar!

If you have the budget, dear reader, please consider buying my new book, Wings of Smoke! And for those who are in the Philippines, my most recent books published by the University of Santo Tomas Publishing House are still available and can be ordered through the USTPH Facebook page.