Memorializing Jose Rizal

José Rizal, like many men of his time, is complicated.  A wealthy elitist from a politically troubled family traveling the world, learning from the long shadow of a changing era.  He represents the ideal, not so much the reality of a national identity.  A man who was not as populist as what his image eventually became. For a group of islands and their islanders, there was really no national thread to bring the patchwork together. Then the Americans brought Jose Rizal back in the early 19th century. Luneta became Rizal Park. And he a national hero, a poet-novelist as a hero. An ideal, an unreachable one, became a consciousness.

Rizal’s work Noli is all over Bataan New Jersey — our generation discussed his books, but maybe not as critically as we should have   I still remember the very deep "Pilipino" it was translated to. Time was spent trying to decipher language, when it should have been spent trying to dissect an idea. For me, writing a historical novel was an opportunity to think outside of the myth and subvert the man and his narrative.  Maria Clara herself was worth investigating because we don’t really know what became of her after being seen as an apparition in a famed convent in Intramuros.  Returning to Intramuros in a narrative was as exciting as imagining a world that now only exists in fiction , Rizal's Old Manila.

I grew up in the Manila that Rizal himself could not have foreseen, a city full of streets named after characters from his life and his books: Blumentritt, Dapitan, Maria Clara Street. All so fascinating.   A poet novelist as a national hero for a country that is not necessarily friendly to intellectualism and to reading in general.  Recent memory tells us that former Vice President Leni Robredo lost the presidential election after being accused of "elitism." The Philippines is still very much the masses depicted in Rizal's books. Rizal and his elitist friends still exist, in a different shape, as the rising English-speaking middle class who could care less that the country is still poor. And no surprise that Marcos Jr. won. The Pink Revolu forgot that the masses couldn't afford Pink. It looked good on socmed, however. (Just to be clear, I used my socmed to help the Robredo campaign, because I believed in her, although I couldn't vote there.) An opportunity lost. A return to the Marcos past.

In the 1970s, Martial Law season, Rizal's Noli was a required reading for us.  Translated to "Pilipino" (with a P) by the populist Marcos Sr. Sisa was our heroine. She lost her mind in a country that was always losing it. Her sons, Crispín and Basilio, were all of us boys of a deteriorating Manila.  Years later, my novels would follow his tradition of fallen brothers.  Of cities and countries that teeters between losing and gaining a soul. Although I write women from a feminist pen.  Unlike Rizal, I never saw women as victims.  Bataan New Jersey subverts the elemental machismo in his books.   I find much satisfaction that he has allowed me to do that.  I am of my generation after all.  Not a traveling elitist, but an immigrant. I belong to a diaspora. We were moved by time and economy. No monuments for us. I have spent most of my life in New York City. But like Rizal, I have traveled the world. I am a polyglot. I understand international inspiration. But I have no desire to save a country or its people. I find self-righteousness toxic. I prefer to write about people. And by doing so, I carry his tradition. I will continue to complicate Rizal. Perhaps because I respect him much. I understand elitism as well. I am a Harvard graduate. You are infected with elitism once you attend one of these schools. I choose to embrace the levels of representation in my works. And I have many heroes, and Rizal is one of them.

Happy 164th birthday, Jose Rizal.  No matter what we think of you, we must always be grateful that your story, your own and the one you made up, lives to share your truths and the truths of your time.  A gift from every page that will continue giving those of us who love to read and time travel.   History repeats itself, true, but I prefer to look back to the past not because I want to reach a destination, but moreso, because I want to understand how that destination creates its own shape. I may not always agree with your ways, but I am glad that you are my forefather.

(For Jose P. Rizal, June 19, 1861-June 19, 2025, 164 years of truthtelling.)

Resource:

Noli Me Tangere in Project Gutenberg