Last week I wrote a review here of Leoncio Deriada’s novel, “People on Claveria Street.” With the nomination process underway,…
Translations indeed extend original texts, as if giving them afterlives that seem familiar. But upon further scrutiny, imprecisions and deviations surface,…
Earlier this week our network Magsasaka at Siyentipiko para sa pag-unlad ng Agrikultura’s Mindanao branch (MASIPAG Mindanao) successfully concluded its 13th Regional Assembly at the Lantaw Bukid Farm Resort in Tugbok District, Davao City.
Few Kidapawanons know the official motto of Kidapawan city, much less understand what it means.
A bad sign meets Haribon as he tarries in his flight back to the mountains of the Big Isle, after his series of consultations with the bagani warriors of Mandalangan in the northern regions of Mindasilang. He cannot easily believe that Abukay and Perikoy are the ones who meet him on his way and as though a shadow of anxiety inextricably resides in their countenance.
It was the feast of sacrifice that the Muslim world were celebrating on Friday, September 1, and traffic was heavy…
People in Claveria Street, Leoncio Deriada’s second novel, is far from his best work of fiction. But it nevertheless demonstrates the value of this living literary legend to Davao and its people.
Before Buwan ng Wika ends, I published through my social media account “tokhang ang daigdig,” a poem rendered from Alejandro Abadilla’s “ako ang daigdig.” In every illuminating moment of replacing each of Abadilla’s ako with tokhang, the new work gradually forms and reveals itself as something relevant in these dark times, yet conscious of the limits of its being. I leave further reading and thinking up to those who want to dissect the derivative work, which, hopefully, has its own merits. So I can devote enough space to translation. Along the way, what Hans J. Vermeer calls skopos (aim) and/or commission (definition) shifted accordingly, that ended with the translatum (target text), “tokhang the universe.”
Kristel Tejada was forced to file a leave of absence from the University of the Philippines in Manila after she failed to pay tuition on time. Out of despair, she committed suicide on March 15, 2013. She was 16.
I was, for the longest time, (and still am, to a certain extent) considered an ingglesera, an epithet that I did not particularly mind. In my mind it was, as I was growing up, an unavoidability. As a child I loved to read (and still do), but aside from the delightfully written and illustrated Ibong Adarna books (which I adored but eventually outgrew), there were almost no non-English books for young readers back in the day. My family also had the middle-class predilection for American TV shows and movies, encouraged in no small way by local programming dominated by noontime shows and melodramas.