Nick Joaquin, novelist, playwright, poet, journalist, historian, and biographer, has been the recipient of almost all of the prestigious awards in literature and the arts, including the National Artist Award for Literature, "the highest national recognition given to Filipino artists who have made significant contributions to the development of Philippine arts and to the cultural heritage of the country." Widely regarded as the greatest Filipino writer of the 20th century, he was also conferred, among other recognitions, the Republic Cultural Heritage Award for Literature in 1961, the Journalist of the Year Award in 1979 for his Almanac for Manileños, the National Book Award for Journalism, Literature, and Creative Communication Arts (the Asian counterpart of the Nobel Prize) in 1996, and the Tanglaw ng Lahi Award in 1997.
Nicomedes Márquez Joaquín (1917–2004) was a Filipino writer and journalist best known for his short stories and novels in the English language. He also wrote using the pen name Quijano de Manila. In 1976, Joaquin was conferred the rank and title of National Artist of the Philippines for Literature. He has been considered one of the most important Filipino writers, along with José Rizal and Claro M. Recto. Unlike Rizal and Recto, whose works were written in Spanish, Joaquin's major works were written in English despite being a native Spanish speaker.
Before becoming one of the leading practitioners of Philippine literature in English, he was a seminarian in Hong Kong – who later realized that he could better serve God and humanity by being a writer. This is reflected in the content and style of his works, as he emphasizes the need to restore national consciousness through important elements of Catholic Spanish Heritage.
In his self-confessed mission as a writer, he is a sort of "cultural apostle" whose purpose is to revive interest in Philippine national life through literature – and provide the necessary drive and inspiration for a fuller comprehension of their cultural background. His awareness of the significance of the past to the present is part of a concerted effort to preserve the spiritual tradition and the orthodox faith of the Catholic past – which he perceives as the only solution to our modern ills.
#BuwanNgMgaAkdangPinoy Aklat #16: CAVE AND SHADOWS by National Artist of the Philippines for Literature Nick Joaquin (Anvil Publishing, 1983)
Nicomedes Márquez Joaquín (1917-2004) is said to be one of the most important Filipino writers in English, and the third most important overall, after José Rizal and Claro M. Recto. "Cave and Shadows" is his second and last novel. It was first published in 1982, 22 years after his first, "The Woman Who Had Two Navels." I liked this book better because of the multilayered and interspersing plots, the clash of the past and the present and the thrill of finding whodunit that kept me leafing through the pages without minding it if was already a wee hour in the morning and I had to go be in the office in a few hours or so.
Written during the time of Martial Law, Joaquin's body of works is not as hard-hitting to the Marcoses as his fellow national artists such as Lumbera, Jose or probably to some extent, Almario. Although he had his reportage on Marcoses, he used to be seen hobnobbing with the government officials including the First Lady Imelda Marcos that probably led to his being chosen as a National Artist for Literature in 1976. To be honest, because this book came out in 1982, a year after the lifting of Martial Law, I was expecting that this would have something on that dark regime and not espousing (or floating the idea?) the return of paganism to "un-colonize" the country for us to be able to say that we are back to our roots and we are truly Filipino. Was this just Joaquin's way of expressing his talents, so he wrote a novel that has nothing to do with what was going on around him? It is a well-written novel, yes, but it is devoid of any moral compass that I thought should come from someone bestowed with that honor of being a national artist. Or maybe it is just me and my idealist notion of national artists are at par with national heroes. As they say, pen is mightier than sword.
There are many unforgettable scenes here like the tale of Donya Geronima that fell in love with a man a lot slimmer than her. There was also the tale of the Archbishop and the Princess that, before they died, promised that they would come back to life and Joaquin teased the reader that Andres Bonifacio and Gregoria De Jesus were reincarnations of the two. I also liked the angle of having the spirit of the goddess showing up as the girl-walking-the-crab to scare the novel's main protagonist Jack Henson. The slow revealing of the clues, the table being turned slowly, the falling down of the Alexander statue and the tearing down of the mansion. The deception and the betrayal and the characters almost leaping out from the pages, they all made the reading memorable for me.
Considered one of the most important works in Filipino literature, Cave and Shadows is a mystery/thriller that weaves together a host of contrasting elements (good/evil, Catholic/pagan, colonial/native, male/female, etc) around the story of the mysterious death of Nenita Coogan. Nenita is already dead when the novel begins (very much like "Laura Palmer" and I can't help wondering if Mark Frost and David Lynch didn't use this book when creating Twin Peaks, including some its high strangeness) but that doesn't prevent her from being one of the most interesting characters in the story, along with another female long-since-dead, the Beata, who is the motivation behind so many acts. As a matter of fact, I think I tend to agree with the many who call this a "feminist" story as almost all of the female characters in the story tend to steal the show and seem to control and carry the plot even though the protagonist (Jack) and his associates are all male.
The writer that I know and love from his various short stories is almost unrecognizable here in his second (and last) novel. Almost. The folklore and mythology that he mixes into actual history in telling the background of the story is transporting, and is the real meat for me. I thought the story itself was not so interesting and I found the dialogue to be especially rambling and numb. I was surprised to find parts of it even sophomoric, something I didn't think Joaquin had in him. Each time the story played out in the present (early 1970's and pre-martial-law) I found myself pining to get back to the mythology behind it. It's very possible that Joaquin himself felt the same way. It seemed to me that all of the characters in the novel in some way represented the author and he used each one of them to work out aloud what he himself was trying to work out in private - his feelings about Filipino nationalism and what would be the soul of it in the future, Catholic or pagan. I'm not sure if the obvious romantic portrayal of the Philippine's early pagan roots is exactly telling. However, his real life invocation to Mariang Makiling, a mythical mountain maiden during a ceremony attended by Imelda Marcos, might be (it got him banned from further public functions).
5 for the mythos + 3 for the detective story, and it doesn't quite add up to a satisfying 4.
I really really loved it. It started quite slow for me, it did not connect instantly. However, the book got into the good, juicy part. It was a really good political and religious mystery novel. You think you'll know what will happen next but everything turned out differently. Nick Joaquin is always one step ahead of you. It also has a bit of history which make it more interesting. It really got me interested in Filipino paganism (not in converting but in knowing more about it). If you're not a conservative Christian and is a Filipino at heart then you must read this. It has a bit of everything for everyone (yes, even romance, but only a hint of) and its a message-heavy book. It will really satisfy your thirst for knowledge and entertainment. :)
After a teenage girl is found dead inside a locked cave, her estranged father, Jack Henson, comes to Manila to investigate. Together with his old friends Pocholo Gatmaitan, who is now the mayor, and Alex Manzano, who is a supporter and financer of student activists, he drifts through Manila searching for clues that might unlock the mystery that wraps his daughter’s demise. Along the way he finds himself socializing with politicians, activists, paganists, a prostitute, and a wealthy old man who after a childhood spent in hate of the Church converts into it, to the criticism of his own family and old supporters. Joaquin’s novel reveals all the sides of Manila life - enshrouded in blind faith and political strife, chaotic, and seedy.
I bought the novel by mistake. I was at the bookstore, looking over Joaquin’s books, getting disappointed at how thin his short story collections are. All they had in the store were always only had three stories, at P250, at the price of much thicker books. Then I saw this one. It was thick. The back had no blurb or synopsis typical to the backs of paperback novels. Absolutely nothing on the cover that hinted at what it contained - so I assumed it was a short story collection. On the jeepney, however, when I finally removed it from the plastic packaging, I realized it was a novel. Since I can only (seriously) read two books at a time - one novel and one short story collection - and I was already reading another novel (Ilustrado), I set this one aside. Then a lot of other things came up. We went to Subic. I had exams. I met up with a lot of interesting people. I never found the time to start this one until two weeks ago. And now I’m writing about it.
Joaquin’s writing is powerful. In fact what sets it apart from other English writing by Filipinos is its constant mixing of American slang and Spanish and Filipino words. It’s more Filispanglish than pure English, and it makes for a jumpy, caffeinated beat to the narrative. But it’s with history that Joaquin’s writing truly achieves. For about a quarter of the novel, spread throughout, Joaquin explores the history of Manila from Pre-Hispanic times, building up on the history of the titular cave, the Lakan Bato, along with dissertations on paganism and the early revolts against the Spanish rule.
What I love most about the novel is seamy feel it gives to Manila. Absolutely no exocitizing or romanticizing involved. Joaquin casts also a light on the seedy backstreets of Manila, where prostitutes are involved in the businesses of high ranking politicians, where random people are killed in drive bys by political henchmen, where people pay to watch a live show for a Bomba film being shot. In Cave and Shadows Manila is a dirty, dirty city. This is reminiscient of James Joyce’s portrayal of Dublin in his short story collection, Dubliners. And as Joyce makes clear in Dubliners - no dirty city is unworthy of love.
this is real food on a splendid platter. now feel like am fangirling over villa, nope, nick joaquin. delicious time to finish this delicious novel: on a storm-battered early weekend when big glows were needed.
felt a little ashamed for making ra-ras about balzac and james joyce and angela carter when there was, THERE IS, nick joaquin standing while sweating-while-writing for philippine literature. once more: delicious novel.
Another thing: this made me interested in philippine paganism, sabi ni Cholo sa nobela: "since the true Filipino is the pagan Filipino, no Christian can be Filipino at all." Page 253 yun. Also: this is a mystery novel that surpasses sherlock homes (even though andre manzano himself made this comparison in the novel) by a planet and a universe. very intricate plot, i CERTAINLY guess as elaborately conceptualized also (notable are the several historical and archival details, irregardless of their authenticity outside the novel).
isa pa: i AM (this will mellow down, for sure) a fangirl of this novel, and how do fangirls usually express their immeasurable devotion to/utter fanaticism/unmistakable idolatry of the objects/subjects of their fangirl-ness? parang ganito: i love you, cave and shadows!
Strange, surreal, and idiosyncratic; dark humor at the expense of zealous nationalism and Filipino nativism. The characters' motivations are just too ridiculous, one is inclined to believe Joaquin is pulling a long, elaborate joke - a joke that most people are sure to react to with the utmost (and unwelcome?) reverence and solemnity.
My favorite Filipino book! Started a bit slow reading the first few chapters, but once you've reached the middle part, I bet you're never gonna be able to stop. Love it!
This is a perfect thriller telling of Philippine culture, history, politics, and religion. Starting with the curious death of a girl, I was fixated on learning the truth and touring historical accounts. The revelations were satisfying, like Agatha Christie's. The history is remarkable because it almost reads like academic writing with how the accounts were presented and reviewed. In most books, I can easily identify which half I liked better, but with this, I liked every part! I see this in thirds where it goes from foreboding to profound to intense.
I got my copy from Solidaridad in Ermita, Manila last July. Coincidental that I picked this up in August too, so the reading experience was more atmospheric. This book makes me want to read more Filipiniana!
I had high hopes for this book, but it took me foreverrrr to finish. More than 6 months. It was sooo promising—it could have dealt with such interesting issues like the influence of Catholicism in the Philippines, erasure of paganism, political family dynasties, and over reliance on "old monuments." But characters went on SUCH rambling speeches and I felt like I was being lectured at. A lot of the characters became caricatures of their morals—each character was really used more like tools to constructing this huge "debate" on Filipino identity, and in this way, each character lost all nuance. The debate was entirely black-and-white, and Jack Henson is the BLANDEST protagonist, and even the final reveal is so lame and fell flat.
Overall, not impressed. It did get me thinking about Filipino identity, paganism, and the role of the Church. But, took forever, the discussion itself was unsatisfying, and the conclusion left no real impact.
A satisfying blend of history and detective story, Cave and Shadows investigates the death of a young woman found in a cave. There was no sign of foul play. She was found naked, and as if sleeping. There's an inner cave within cave, secret passages, neo-paganism, ritual sacrifices, cults and activists, converts and sinners. I think it has a lot to offer the readers of mystery and mysticism.
A few years ago, I bought The Woman Who Had Two Navels and Tales of the Tropical Gothic by Nick Joaquin. I was first exposed to his work through the short story The Summer Solstice which we read for a Philippine literature class and enjoyed it immensely. So of course, when I learned that there was going to be a Penguin Classics edition of his short stories, I needed to have it. I finished a few short stories, skipped The Woman Who Had Two Navels because it was a novel and I decided to buy the novel, and also skipped the play. I still haven't completely finished the collection although I'll try to do that this year. Nevertheless, I thought Nick Joaquin's reputation as a giant of Philippine literature was well deserved. His prose was incredible and the blend of folk tradition and religion in his works bringing a palpable tension in his stories especially regarding what they can say about the Filipino psyche.
While I read Cave and Shadows, I thought it was a very Nick Joaquin work. The description of it being a metaphysical novel was apt because of how it dealt with so many themes. Something that stuck out was that the novel was set in the weeks prior to Martial Law. While this event is never touched upon in the novel, knowing that this event happens brings another dimension- in the novel, Manila is a volcano waiting to erupt. Activists, politicians, neo-pagan cults all play a significant role. It felt like a metaphorical storm waiting to happen in conjunction with the actual storm that happens in the climax of the book.
Cave and Shadows is a mystery novel but not quite a crime novel. There is a central mystery although it's unclear if there is a crime. In the process of unraveling this mystery, the protagonist is drawn to Manila, the capital city, the author's most beloved city. There are times when I wonder if the true protagonist of Nick Joaquin's stories is this city. In this city are activists, politicans, and neo-pagan cults. In the background, the religious establishment. How they all connect to the death of Jack's ex-wife's daughter is the mystery here and in between, the author fuses fact and fiction to create the history of the cave at the center of the mystery.
For me, what truly made this book aside from Nick Joaquin's writing, is the exploration of pre-colonial tradition, folk culture, and Christianity. Today, we recognize that in the process of Catholicism being brought to colonized countries, some folk traditions have survived and has been incorporated in the way we practice. In the novel, there is a dichotomy. What is a Filipino? Do you have to be pagan to be a Filipino? This is something which I thought is kind of a common theme in his work, the exploration of the Filipino identity. Interspersed are bits of fictionalized history which I thought were really well done.
The main character is also well-written. After 20 years away from Manila, he finds much has changed. He finds that his friends have found high places in politics, have gotten involved in some unsavory and shady dealings, had changed their beliefs, made alliances with unlikely persons, and other things. We see the events through eyes both familiar and unfamiliar with the city.
Overall, I found Cave and Shadows a great read. I loved it and I've really become a fan of the author's writing. I will definitely be picking up The Woman Who Had Two Navels soon and maybe finally finish that collection too.
Cave and Shadows was Joaquin's second and final novel. He would go on to write more biographies and histories, but wrote fiction sparingly. Filipino detective fiction is a sparse category; from what I read (Smaller and Smaller Circles and The Rice Conspiracy), however, this one is the best because Joaquin played to his strengths, which were nuanced characters and the dialectic between faith and apostasy. To me, his novel was reminiscent to Faulkner's detective stories: the whodunit is rather simple, but the characters and motives behind the crime are complex and at times inscrutable. Both authors were also masterful in creating the milieu of their stories: Faulkner illustrated the haunting South through his grotesques, while Joaquin manifested the tug-of-war between culture and boorishness through his characters.
Cave starts with a virginal teen, Nenita Coogan, being discovered as having died inside a cave. She was naked, untouched, and forensic investigation identified that she died of natural causes. The protagonist, Jack Henson, was then tapped by his ex-wife, Alfreda, who eloped with a priest and gave birth to Nenita, to investigate her death. Like the great Joaquin works, the mystical is never too distant from the real: after Jack arrives in Manila, he sees an apparition of a naked girl pulling a crab on a string, which may or may not have been Nenita.
As his investigation progresses, he unearths a battle between the neo-pagan and Christian forces trying to use the cave where she was found dead for their own purposes: the Christians want the cave site to be venerated, while the virgin death of Nenita sparked the neo-Pagan group to celebrate her as among their vestals.
Throughout the novel, the foibles and idiosyncrasies of its characters were unfurled. Rather than true opposition, Joaquin adeptly paints the characters as possessing ambivalent values. The rabid apostate had converted to Christianity; the Christian mayor actually funded a neo-pagan group. Nenita Coogan, a Filipino-American, ultimately chose and "regressed" toward paganism, and Jack Henson, the protagonist, who was tasked to reveal the truth but chose to keep it.
It reminded me of Faulkner's story Hand Upon the Waters which was also a simple detective story. There were no grand conspiracies to overturn, just a sharp lawyer who suspected that a murder had taken place. And like Jack, Gavin Stevens decided to keep the truth to protect those whom he cherished.
If read solely as a detective novel, this book is unimpressive.
Yet, I believe that Joaquin cloaked his commentary on postcolonialism under the guise of a detective novel. What persists with the Filipino people, then and now, is that uncertainty of identity. We want to scream to ourselves that "we are Filipino," and yet we are tied down, inexorably, with the historical burden of other countries' conquests. He nevertheless interjects through his babaylan that one possible solution is to be thoroughly pagan.
The ending, however, proves that Joaquin was neither nescient nor deluded: the weight of our past must be admixed and cohered with the currency of our present, and we must move forward, as Jack did, as lonely people for us to forge a more cohesive identity as Filipino.
What if Carlos Fuentes also had a distinct air of ideological ambivalence within his use of the Baroque that happened to be markedly less politically committed than he, along with other Latin American authors famous for the same aesthetic, nevertheless were – perhaps in part due to a sense of messianic, Benjaminian historical existentialism the Baroque's postcolonial characteristics endowed them with in the face of the same Cold War-era backdrop Nick Joaquin wrote this book in?
Cave and Shadows is a blast to read for anybody familiar with the societal discourses Philippine literature shapes itself around in, mostly due to how it blends its generic influences along with its temporalities, in classic Joaquin fashion. It's a macho pulp mystery, on one hand, but it's a not-quite-magically realist novel either that uses religion as a vehicle to pose the same questions about Philippine identity and history that Joaquin often does. And it's fun, but it risks the mistake of posing the misassumption that, in reaction to anti-colonial nationalist narratives, nuance and doubt cannot be mixed with a deeper conviction to continue to extracting the subaltern past out of capitalism's static historiography. Sure, you could definitely read the text in relation to Ferdinand Marcos' own propagandistic appropriation of indigenous Philippine mythology to further the impression of the latter, but the lack of depth afforded to the portrayal of '72 activists here leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
Overall, this is fun, but if it's not as reactionary as Borges' ideological skepticism, it's also not as radically brilliant.
I wasn't really expecting much when I first picked up the book. It was on sale, and the cover looked attractive enough for me to spend the last few hundred bills left in my pocket.
I also wasn't expecting the turn of events, but as these stories go, you never really know what to expect at the end—not until you get there. I had a good time reading this, and although some parts were a little bit of a slow-burn, the glimpse of Manila, the freshness of Filipino paganism being talked about, and how this country was before all the colonizing—it all seemed so beautifully interesting like the T'boli textiles woven into an awe-inspiring piece of art. I love it.
I finally got to finish this! I was on a reading slump for MONTHS but I'm glad I got back in the game. This is honestly an interesting read, it touches on some Philippine history—whether it's mythological or true-to-life. Although I have to admit, it felt like a haze reading this. It was so confusing but it all made sense at the same time. The ending shocked me though, I didn't expect it at all. As someone who loves mystery, I enjoyed reading this (even if it all felt like a blur, which kind of makes sense since the author wanted to give the impression that the protagonist had an unreliable POV).
Maybe something was lost in translation (the typos did not help). But it grates on my nerves when an investigator asks questions of a reluctant subject, and that subject opens up with paragraphs and paragraphs of expository dialogue. Stopped reading after 2/3.
Interesting plot. Rich cultural context and individual insights are so interesting. A good thriller. Each character has their own share in building the plot. I love André especially. Very introspective youth. It would come a point you'll NEED to choose which side to stand with because everyone's sides are reasonably and vividly expressed. Makes you have to HAVE careful judgment on many things. Nick Joaquin, everyone.
I've only read Joaquin's short stories and have gotten a feel for how he melds Philippines folklore with history. This novel explores both, surprisingly within a political and religious whodunit.. Full review on my blog Guiltless Reading!