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THE UMBRELLA COUNTRY } |
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Maraming salamat for visiting my home on the net! I welcome you with virtual hugs. I hope that you clicked this link to The Umbrella Country because you have read my first novel or planning to read it. If you are here out of curiosity, I encourage you to purchase my first book. The following information will be found on this page: the publisher’s website, reviews of the book in the U.S. and the Philippines, articles about the novel, and purchasing and contact information. Just like my previous website, I developed this one myself. My goal is to create a reader-friendly website that will debunk the stereotypical image of writers as being standoffish, dogmatic or unapproachable (I hope to think I’m not). It is still at a nascent stage. I have personally gathered as much information from the internet and my files about the book, including reviews in the U.S. and the Philippines in an attempt to create a comprehensive database. I have been tremendously blessed for being given the opportunity to publish a novel in the competitive U.S. literary market. At the time of this writing, the novel is already eight years old and still available for purchasing. I hope you support literature by buying my books online. Recently, I also have published my first poetry collection, The Gods We Worship Live Next Door, a selection for the Agha Shahid Ali Poetry Prize, which you can learn about by clicking the book’s image on the front page. I am currently trying to place another book, a novel-in-stories titled, The F.L.I.P Show, while deep in the zone to write another one. The Umbrella Country was written in Jersey City, Manhattan and finalized in Spain. It took about four years of my life in my early twenties. At the time, I was a fervent social activist, working in communities in New York City as an advocate for human rights. It was a novel penned with much inspiration and ambition. I was primarily a poet at the time and very much on the trenches of American literature. Much of my experience then was recorded in interviews in now defunct magazines, which I hope to resurrect on this website. I wish to furnish you with a complete picture of the publication of The Umbrella Country to benefit those who are currently studying this novel, to bring light to the successes and struggles of being a Filipino-American writer in American publishing, and to provide an inspiration to those of you who face the same obstacles that we are all too familiar with. My first novel was published in 1999, a year that proved to be most fruitful for Asian American publishing. Many works—post-Amy Tan, we refer to ourselves—of young Asian Americans came out that year, new voices and faces of Americana. I belonged to a small but intimate and dedicated writing group at the Asian American Writers Workshop when I got a call from an editor at Random House who was interested in my work. Apparently, a friend of a friend in the group has talked about it with much interest that it generated an early buzz. My agent at the time negotiated the publication of the novel to headline a new literary imprint within Ballantine Books. Unfortunately, the press was taken over by a larger company and the imprint stymied. The editor-at-large at Random House fought for the life of my manuscript until it was taken by a book club imprint, Ballantine Reader’s Circle, as its first original paperback. Given the chances of getting published as a Filipino immigrant in the U.S., I never fail to count my blessings. Here is The Umbrella Country from the publisher’s website. Included here are: synopsis of the book, questions to facilitate book club discussions, and a short excerpt from the second chapter, Miss Unibers. Following are reviews of the book in the U.S. and the Philippines. In reading them, please observe the almost staggerring differences between reviews from the two countries. It is not surprising that reviews in the Philippines contextualized the novel and placed it within a Filipino historical and literary framework; the reviews in the United States couldn’t seem to remove it from a catalogue of Asian American writing or some kind of ethnic potluck, within which many of us Filipino writers are unfortunately categorized. What becomes of a book (or anything) once removed from its original context? But then, only in the Philippines--the country of origin--can we create a historical and literary consciousness around Filipino and Filipino American writing. In the U.S., we will always be compared to precedent ethnic writers or worse, dead “white” American writers, completely ignoring the centennial of Philippine literature in English. I think there exist a possibility of a more thorough reading of Filipino text in the United States, if only one would devote enough time and effort to study the context from which it is written. In fact, a few Filipino American writers have taken on reviewing works of their own, breathing into such literary texts a living and profound historical insight without sounding esoteric (e.g. My reviewer for San Francisco Chronicle is in fact, Filipino-American). "Realuyo's lucid prose, unencumbered by sentimentality or hindsight, lends freshness to the conflicts of his somewhat familiar characters and color to a setting both impoverished and alluring." Laura Morgan Green, The New York Times Book Review. More here (registration required). "And boy, how this boy-writer of the prodigious racial memory CAN write, CAN limn his prose with the quietly lyrical line as wise as its efficacious . . . This novel is rich in portents as well as hopes despites all the gut-wrenching episodes; there is ever a tenderness that transcends the poverty, the city, the humor and tragedy, and all the eyes 'constantly judging everything they saw' . . . Thanks, Bino. Page after page, it is beautifully your song, our song. The Umbrella Country is a splendid book. Quite honestly, it's the most moving novel I've read in years." Alfred A. Yuson, The Philippine Star, Philippines. More here. “ ‘The Umbrella Country’ is a significant contribution to Filipino American literature.” Benjamin Pimentel, San Francisco Chronicle. More Here "Bino
A. Realuyo proves that the telling of a novelist's heart and country
is contained in the smallest movement of moments. Word upon lyrical
word, his novel is beauty that dwells like a beloved's lingering
ache, a beloved's familiar voice." Lois-Ann Yamanaka,
author of Blu's Hanging "Realuyo's prose is vivid and fluid, often impressive in its attention to poetic detail. This street feels real, thus feeling both right and wrong at the same time. We know these characters, have heard some of these stories. But even as these are familiar locations, Realuyo gathers them in a moving, insightful tale of a Philippines within the Philippines. That we know these stories are true only adds to the power of Realuyo's telling. It's a memorable, satisfying read in any weather. But, in this country where the weather still blows dark and then suddenly clear, "The Umbrella Country" seems as delightfully familiar--and as emotionally pungent--as the scent of sampaloc in the wet wind." Ruel S. de Vera, The Philippine Daily Inquirer, Philippines. More here. “ The streets of Manila in the 1970s are brought to life in all their teeming glory in Bino A. Realuyo’s evocative first novel, The Umbrella Country.” Barnes and Noble Discover Great New Writers Finalist. More here. "Heartbreaking . . . Poet Realuyo assembles a powerful array of characters for this coming of age novel." Publisher's Weekly. More here. "Manila
snaps, crackles and comes of age for a boy who is just "A wrenching first novel filled with the sights, sounds and smells of Manila under martial law." Booklist. More here. “Extraordinary first novel.” - The Advocate "This is a dangerous book because it reveals the Filipino soul, tortured, tormented by poverty . . . Everything in this book has the sting of reality. The images are stunning but true. The smells are so strong they assault the reader. The people are familiar characters we have met in the comings and goings, ups and downs of our city lives: They may be stereotypes and archetypes, but you know them all, they were part of each of our past and they're still very much around, 30 years after Gringo's recollection." Jullie Yap Daza, Editor, The Manila Standard, Philippines. More here. This
is a harsh tale salted with dialog in three languages. Word of Mouth,
Library Journal. More
here. Here are some articles about The Umbrella Country: An interview with Derek Kalger of PIF Magazine: "I never thought of the novel as a coming of age story. That was a genre the publishing houses attached to my book because they felt they had to categorize it for marketing purposes. They even put the genre on the cover. There are several voices in the book and many awakenings. Although the novel is seen from Gringo's perspective, the awakenings are occurring all round him." More here. From Boldtype Magazine with the poet Bruna Mori: "I set the book in the time period to create the climate of repression necessary for the characters' eventual interaction and confrontation with the world around them. I didn't want the book to be read only as a coming of age story about two brothers. I hope I succeeded, to say the least, in showing the strange and complex nature of family bonds amid poverty and sometimes violent circumstances." More here. An article written by Professor Leonard Casper, "The Blood Compact in Bino A. Realuyo." Among
Filipino producers of the printed word in America, Sionil Jose
leads with his entire Rosales epic gradually appearing under
the Random House/Modern Library imprint. On a different scale
it is Realuyo’s first novel, The Umbrella Country, which
has attracted rare admiration. Both Jose and Realuyo are writers
with a strong, broad (non-ideological) social conscience. Jose
can present the action and motives of both rich and poor; Realuyo
so far has provided access only to the latter, but his sensitivity
to language provides intimate nuances which prevent his principal
characters from seeming pitiable stereotypes. His language serves
rather than competes with the authenticity of his characters.
More
Here. It is easy to imagine Bino A. Realuyo’s first novel as the story of his life as well. Like the waif Gringo in “The Umbrella Country,” the author grew up on the side streets of Manila where the stench of poverty sticks to one’s skin and sinuses. More Here. Cover Story of Filipinas Magazine. Bino, Vidi, Vici. by journalist Benjamin Pimentel: Before coming to America and becoming one of today's most promising Filipino American writers, Bino Realuyo went by a name so typically Pinoy: Alvin. "My mother would call me ‘Al-beeen!’" Realuyo says.Last year was a big one for Albeen, a.k.a. Alvin Realuyo, a.k.a. Bino A. Realuyo, author of The Umbrella Country, the most talked about Filipino novel since Jessica Hagedorn's Dogeaters. More Here. Also, in the year 2000, there was an exhibit in the Philippines titled The Umbrella Country at the Arts Project. Included in the art exhibit were some of the masters in the Philippines. In fact, it was where I met Santiago Bose, whose work eventually became the cover of my poetry collection, The Gods We Worship Live Next Door. In the future, I will include articles published about the exhibit as it correlated with the novel. From the invite: "Borrowed from Bino A. Realuyo's acclaimed novel of the same title, this exhibit is a retelling of Philippine and Asian social realities. Noted for their diverse yet acrimonious and edgy observations and comments about our society, Alvarado, Bose, Cajipe-Endaya, Co and Fajardo continue to tread into a country persistently haunted by ghosts of past colonial masters and despot of a recent martial law regime." You can purchase the novel in the following outfits: Alibris (used books) Booksamillion It means so much to me that you have visited. Live in the most authentic way possible. Maraming Salamat. Good luck on your voyage.
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