Excerpts from A Moveable Feast

"I would stand and look out over the roofs of Paris and think, "Do not worry. You have always written before, and you will write now. All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know."

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"Standing there I wondered how much of what we had felt on the bridge was just hunger, I asked my wife and she said, "I don't know, Tatie. There are so many sorts of hunger." In the spring there are more. But that's gone now. Memory is hunger."

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"It was a very simple story called "Out of Season" and I had omitted the real end of it which was the old man hanged himself. This was omitted on my new theory that you could omit anything if you knew the omitted part would strengthen the story and make people feel something more than they understood. (..understand in the the same way that they always do in a painting. It only takes time... and confidence.)"

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"Hunger is good discipline and you learn from it... cut down on food so you will not get too much hunger-thinking."

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"What did I know best that I had not written about and lost? What did I know about truly and care for the most?  There was no choice at all. There was only the choice of streets to take you back fastest to where you worked."

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"All I must do now was stay sound and good in my head until morning when I would start to work again."

Burning Books

This is not about Bradbury’s novel, but it does have a great deal to do with governing institutions and how their powers dictate whose books are read by the world or left to rot in drawers. 

If he were to will it, A. would rather have books by brilliant writers—who perished before they were widely appreciated—burned to never be read by the public again. He believes publishers and everyone today do not deserve to read such great works of literature. The way he sees it, our society continues to propagate the same system that rejects poets and novelists that create important and revolutionary books. 

Think about it, every century has a roster of maligned geniuses way ahead of their time. A. finds it hypocritical and pretentious that the "same" institutions, critics, writers, academics, publishers (publishers most especially) even have the gall to laud these dead writers today. Not everyone forgets how all they ever did was reject and throw scathing remarks at these writers when they were alive.

One such extreme case is that of novelist John Kennedy Toole, the author of “A Confederacy of Dunces” (which I've yet to read). Toole approached many publishers to accept his manuscript yet none of them could understand his brand of tragicomedy. As history had it, presses didn’t bother to give him a chance. When frustration and depression finally took its toll on the young writer, Toole committed suicide in 1969 (he was 32). Upon learning this, A.’s exact words were “How could the world do that?—He died thinking he was a horrible writer.”

Struck by grief, Toole’s mother continued to submit his manuscript to various publishers. With the help of his friend writer Walker Percy, “A Confederacy of Dunces” was finally published in 1980, almost twenty years after Toole’s death. The book won the Pulitzer Prize in 1981 and is now revered as one of the most a canonical works of modern literature about the Southern United States.

http://www.jktoole.com

http://thebooklion.files.wordpress.com

Another case: Herman Melville's popular classic “Moby-Dick” (also another book I’ve yet to enjoy) was not well-received when it was first published in 1851. It gone out of print by the time Melville passed away in 1891. Nevertheless, today it is considered a brilliant classic and one of the greatest American novels of the twentieth century.

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Yes, it’s possible to be a writer and not be read in your lifetime. I can go on and on about writers who didn’t enjoy much recognition for their masterpieces. Try to find “The Monk” by British novelist and dramatist Matthew Gregory Lewis and you’ll marvel at one of the finest gothic novels written in the English language. If you’ve ever come across works by Chinese poet Li-Po (also known as Li  Bai, some say he’s arguably more brilliant than Tu Fu, but unlike Tu Fu, he wasn’t popular when he was alive), French poet Charles Baudelaire, and American poet Emily Dickenson (who probably just published 3 poems in her life), then you stumbled upon treasures that humanity almost shunned and never found. 

We devour one book after another and yet we don’t know how much suffering some of these writers had to endure while they were alive. 

A. maintains that none of us deserve to know of such beauty; if the world truly wanted to help its writers, it should reward them while they are living. In an ideal world, institutions should help keep artists from going poor and hungry. Perhaps in another universe there must be a Xanadu where artists can stay true to their craft without being neglected and shunned by society. But at the same time, somewhere in my heart I know one cannot produce great art by staying in a “place of comfort." It is the fate of artists and writers to understand human suffering well enough to create art.

Drinking Alone by Moonlight by Li Bai

A. said to me, “Do you agree? If I were to have it, society should burn these books! We don’t deserve them.”

He, WE, feel strongly about this issue, though I took the opposite position: I said no.

I understood how A. felt. As writers, we scoff at the idea of powerful institutions that publish minor works over books that have the potential to stand the test of time. If it were to happen to him, A. would choose to keep his book to himself—this is how he shows defiance, this is his way of rejecting the world that continues to drive true writers and artists mad.

“But that wouldn’t be right,” I said to him. “I would however keep them away from the publishers who rejected them. It's wrong how they continue to earn more just by reprinting their works.”

--

It’s not this generation’s fault many authors were not read when they were alive. The existence of beautiful books by neglected writers are a testament to the injustice that pervades the publishing and writing enterprise (I say this exactly because I believe it mustn’t be driven exclusively by capitalism).

If more people read these books, whether they write masterpieces or not, their lives will be richer for it. It is also my hope that a good reader may be inspired to continue writing important literary work. Who knows, perhaps some of them can even change the goddamn system. It’s a long shot, but it has to start somewhere.

Exposures

I came across an article on Time Magazine about photographer Melissa Spitz. Her work involved making her mother the main subject of her photographs. I’m sure photographing parents or family members and elevating their portraits into art isn’t unheard of, but what makes Spitz’s work a bit different has drawn mixed opinions and reactions from people who have learned about her objective.

According to Time, Spitz has spent the last six years documenting her mentally ill mother through photography. She explains in the interview: “There are people who think I exploited my mom, and think that I’m doing something wrong, and then there’re people who think I’m doing something very important.”

Now, I think some people don’t really mind becoming public subjects as long as they agree with the kind of representation artists render. In Spitz case, her mother asked to be photographed until she told her to go all out with her life. She even admitted to feeling bad about it at first, but it eventually helped them bond again even with her mother's condition.

Those who think Spitz is taking advantage of her mother to “put up another art show” may be too quick to judge. I believe much of art’s content is greatly affected by what concerns the artist. The work can later on possess transformative powers for the audience as well as the artist who created it. Spitz states in the same interview: “[T]he work was a conversation that was not only me watching her but also an echo of how I feel about living and dealing with her.” Spitz isn’t just putting up strange photographs in the guise of raising awareness for mental patients. What’s it like, really? By doing this, she attempts to demonstrate how it is to be patient and strong for a family member struck with mental illness.

I think what society criticizes is the unapologetic exhibition of the private life, more so when a person is ill or disadvantaged because it is largely seen as a helpless person who did not have a say in the matter, who’s just another subject for media consumption until the next interesting and unusual thing comes along. A person may be offended when they’re photographed or captured in a video because 1) they don’t have control over how they are represented 2) because someone has invaded their privacy 3) along with a number of other privacy and public space issues (because of the arbitrary some-things-are-just-inappropriate-for-the-viewing public).

People sympathize with the notion that someone might be stealing moments from a person’s most vulnerable disposition to be later looked at closely by the public. Those who "exploit" do this to grab people’s attentions, and perhaps to even make some money (though I doubt Spitz is making any real money out of this project). While I understand this point, I would like to maintain my openness to art and whatever form it might take. I also believe a closer look is exactly what it demands.

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I’m quite a reserved individual myself. For someone attempting to write and publish, I have almost zero exposure. I understand the need for privacy and value my personal space. For a while I even thought this fear of exposing myself has kept me from writing about subjects that mattered to me. Because in the age of Facebook, Instagram, Viber, not to mention annoying aunts, uncles, and acquaintances that always manage to tell me what I should and should not believe, sometimes I just don’t want to have an opinion anymore (such is the adult experience, you realize some of the people you’ve known can be quite imposing). To add to that, I admit I’m almost always afraid of being wrong 90% of the time. It can really kill critical thinking and sound thinking in general.

The air of indifference surrounding these social (media) interactions just drove me further into silence. They have a tendency to seem like announcements; nobody listens really, many of them don't feel like real conversations. As a result, I made my online accounts private, used pseudonyms, logged in less, and only added friends I felt safe to interact with.

Writing provides me with a space for myself. It’s tough to keep that space from being infected by the world outside (distractions are everywhere). I try to write because it keeps me focused enough to think for myself. If it’s one thing I’ve been struggling with, it has always been balancing how much of myself I can expose and retain from my work. I’ve been told to disclose more, that I’ve too much restraint. I still keep asking: up to what point should I reveal of myself?

When I write, it’s strangely with the thought that I wish to somehow disappear in my work. I guess what I’ve been looking for isn’t myself but something beyond myself. All this time all I might be hoping for is to see through the world beyond mine and what I already know.

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I worked for a television show when I was a young graduate a few years ago. In one of my assignments, I booked an interview with a female fashion photographer named Sarah Black. I recall it was for an episode which featured various Filipino women in the art, fashion, business and entertainment industry. My producer couldn’t make it for some reason so I ended up conducting the interview myself.

I was with our cameraman kuya Randy, who apparently won an award for shooting a documentary that I did not know of at the time. I was the production newbie, and in those days, co-workers hardly told me anything about the job. I had to know things for myself.

When it came to shoot stand-ups, which are basically action shots of the subject, kuya Randy wanted to take as much footage as possible. He probably takes over three hours of footage for each segment with only ten to thirteen minutes edited into the show. Anyway, that’s how shooting usually works (at least from my brief stint in local TV). The truth is people behind the camera never have enough beautiful subjects and satisfying angles, shots, lighting, and time. They breathe all these elements. Taking a shot is like a reflex action to them. They can’t miss that moment.

When kuya Randy motioned to shoot more stand-ups, Sarah Black began feeling uncomfortable. She asked if it was necessary for him to take so many shots at various angles doing different things at certain positions. I found this to be quite odd knowing she was a photographer. But I quickly sensed she was too familiar with this routine, that when the lenses were turned on her, she felt the urge to hide. That was the thing, she agreed to be interviewed, but suddenly felt self-conscious when the camera pried on her. We moved from shooting a professional interview to suddenly taking parts of her that she didn’t consent to.

I could empathize with Miss Black’s unease, I actually even felt embarrassed because it was as if we betrayed her trust. It didn’t take long before I told kuya Randy to stop filming. I would have allowed the shoot to continue if Miss Sarah showed signs of openness, but she kept her cover. I reasoned we had interviewed Miss Black before so we could just use the old footage in the archives. I let the reticent photographer fly out but not without double takes of her hazel-gray eyes and long raven hair.

On the way back to our office, kuya Randy schooled me on how to never stop a shoot even if the subject was starting to feel uneasy. After x number of years in the field, he said that looking closer and longer is one way to show how beautiful something is. He explained that their vulnerability made them more real. He then talked about how he shot a documentary about a disabled child. I won't go into further detail, but he believed the documentary won an award because people were moved by the child's loathsome condition. Kuya Randy's exact words were naaawa sila sa bata. 

I personally sneer at the business of poorly manipulating people's emotions. At the same time, I learned that invasion of privacy constitutes the quest for truth. I'm sure the said documentary raised awareness. I just really hope more people and institutions helped the child after the story was aired. Was it a form of exploitation by the media? Were they merely being a good journalistic team? I have mixed feelings about this, it obviously isn't my cup of tea.

Being disrespectfully invasive wasn't the way I wanted to do my job. I still didn’t agree with kuya Randy, I maintained my position even when the producer gave me hell for it in the next couple of days. 

I value my personal space just as much as I respect another's. I thought there was no way I could uphold this while working with local media (I don't know how other journalists do it, but it requires careful handling). Right then, I knew I’d pack up in search for a new job a few months later. I wasn't cut out to have a career in Philippine Media. And I don't believe it's necessary to reveal more, especially under tawdry lights you couldn’t control.