The Final and Ultimate Critic

The prelude was an unexpected private meeting in the afternoon of August 4. I was browsing through the shelves of Solidaridad, the bookstore at Padre Faura, as has always been my wont whenever I passed by that area in Ermita. I looked at the books written by F. Sionil Jose and saw his latest—the novel Vibora! among those displayed. There were new translations to his novels, particularly one that caught my eye—the Italian version of Viajero. I bought several titles: Vibora!, Olvidon, Ermita, Sin, Three Filipino Women and Gagamba. I reminded myself that I was teaching fiction in my creative writing class and thus needed to get familiar once again with the genre by reading. As I paid for the books, just out of curiosity, I asked the cashier whether it was possible to have my books signed by Mr. Jose himself who owned the book shop. I was delighted when I heard the affirmative. In a few minutes, I was asked to enter his study and after a short while I was face to face with the literary giant, our very own best bet for the Nobel in Literature; the 1980 Ramon Magsaysay Awardee for Literature; our 2001 National Artist and 2004 Pablo Neruda Centennial Awardee bestowed by the government of Chile; the Filipino novelist translated into 28 languages…

Our meeting lasted for about an hour. I had an interesting chat with him on his works that I read. What impresses me right now about that particular conversation besides the great person himself was the tone of familiarity that pervaded in that quiet interlocution.

And I realized the reason for this familiarity: it was because I have known the author through his writings; I read them and have savored the words and the experiences that they represented. In the end I asked for the possibility of him giving a short lecture to my class in creative writing and he gladly acceded to my request.

And so the next week I brought the whole class to meet the man. It was an important day for these aspiring writers. They saw the literary giant and heard him speak about himself, about his writings and about aspiring to be a writer—different themes each of which deserves a whole essay or reflection.

He mentioned that there are certain professions which are more properly called vocations: the priesthood, teaching, the medical profession, and, he added with great emphasis, writing. He affirmed with solemnity: writing is a vocation because it is meant to serve. He says that a writer must be passionate. Writers, he said, are probably the most egoistic of people since what they write is about things as viewed by themselves. However, he said, the celebration of the self must lead to a celebration that is much, much greater than the writer, something bigger, more meaningful than the self. It is this that will make the writing endure, that will make it stand the test of time. In this line, F. Sionil Jose adds that the final and ultimate critic is time. The greatness of a work will be seen if it withstands this test.

This is true for any other work, great or small. In the last analysis, little failures would not count so much because of the good that we have done consistently.