Baking the Novel and Raising up the Dead
Book Review
Ang Maghuhurno by Cymbeline R.Villamin
(Novel in Filipino)
Published by
8Letters Bookstore and Publishing
Paperback /
5”x7”/ 255 pages/ Matte Color Cover/ Perfect Binding / P520 at Shopee, 8Letters
Unfolding the narrative from the viewpoint of a
woman past 60 y.o. is meant to privilege women in the most exciting autumn
season of their lives when leaves are red and gold, when they remain fresh and
continue to bear fruits of wisdom, just before winter comes when everything
would be frozen, deathlike.
The novel starts not in the beginning but right in
the middle where the action sizzles, in the state-of-the-art fitness gym in
Nuvali, at break of dawn when the glass walls afford a panoramic view of the
metropolis that would be slowly bathed in sunlight, as Liz Virata, the baker-protagonist,
negotiates the treadmill with Lancelot Yatco, trainer and future lover beside
her. They are at the threshold of the prelude to sweet disaster that would
coincide with the outbreak of the pandemic Covid-19.
After holding her readers captive in the first
chapter, Villamin proceeds to employ flashback and stream-of-consciousness,
poetry and the metaphorical bibingka, that was scholarly contextualized
by Joi Barrios as traditional yonic symbol in Filipino fiction, in her
introduction for the novel.
The bibingka, listed as 13th
most delicious cake in the world by Taste Atlas in July 2022, is used to insinuate treason in
the 1890s. It is served in the merienda cena after the first president
of the republic, Emilio Aguinaldo, proclaimed Philippine independence on 12
June 1898 in Kawit, Cavite. It brings together the lovers into a baking tryst
that would forge their intimacy. The husband’s rejection of the rice cake his
wife bakes indicates their dysfunctional marriage. On the other hand, it does
not take a genius to discern what is going on with Lance’s enthusiasm to help
Liz in firing the terra cotta ovens, heating round-cut banana leaf over
fire to make pliant for pouring of the batter, mixing of ingredients as his
free hand explores her breast, kissing her on the lips and recording the scene
on his mobile phone camera to replay over and over. When Lance feels nauseous
from repetitive serving of rice cake by his fiancée, Nathanie, we become
certain as to who really owns his heart.
Significant is Villamin’s handling of eroticism in
the story. She introduces sexual tension and sustains it. It seems the lovers
lose interest to “raise up the dead” (make love) when their affair is exposed.
But the pining goes on despite outward show of stoicism and moving on. To
comply with the “happy ending” convention of the romance genre, the writer
obliges somewhat. The truth is, this novel does not give us a catharsis at all.
We see the protagonists as zombies, living dead. One side of them cries out for
freedom to fall in love passionately, while the other side whispers “Never let
me go” within the safe context of socially and morally acceptable institution
of marriage. The writer does not dare to break the rules for her protagonists,
at least for now. Villamin says she will come up with an English version for
the international market, The Baker of Silang, which she promises to be
more daring and defiant, where Lancelot Yatco breaks free to work out the
miracle of “raising up the dead” with the quintessential alchemist of rice cake
and desire.
Grab your copy of Ang Maghuhurno at
8Lettters
https://8lettersbooks.com/shop/ang-manghuhurno
You can also buy from Shopee
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