BOOK REVIEW: 56 by Bob Ong

I had a hiatus for the last three, or five months. It's nice to write again. Woooooot! Although of course, my writing. RIGHT. I'm lacking practice these days. If you think this book review is lame, please do tell me. Yikes!

 

Bob Ong's seventh book talks about multitude of subjects about his family, the voices inside his head he called "Pokemons", logical fallacies of internet trolls, social media etiquettes, grueling long queues of government offices, how to be a better reader, being a responsible voter, living alone in a big city, and ultimately... marriage.

As usual, his target audiences are young adults as he addresses "coming-of-age" advices about growing up and learning the cheap tricks of the society.

Once again, he proved to be a trusted writer (and yes, he impresses me a lot) as he had done numerous research to come up with the conclusion that he wants to get across. We don't know his true identity—he has been very secretive about it—but he finally solidified his mark in the literature by his no nonsense opinions, and backing it up with his well-researched and reliable information. Away from the usual light subjects like ABNKKBSNPL Ako, Ong shifted into more socially relevant topics to make the next generation turn their focus away from themselves to outward events that makes them functional and responsible adults.

 

Pandayan bookshop told me that his works are under Malikhaing Sanaysay or Creative Essays (or Creative Non-fiction?) genre, so it never has a definitive plot and characters to begin with. Yet, this documentary is a detailed with enumerations and knock-out jokes that I can’t help but wonder how much time he has with his hands. He has read a multitude of topics to create something substantial and yet so close to the masses.

The tone of the voice is very conversationalist yet professional. There are even moments that I am reading this on the bus. Additionally, the erotic pages are humorous (because really, the sexual metaphors are so off-key and... eww) to re-catch the attention of these "semi-children" when the topic gets boring/serious. I must admit, his storytelling was very light, as he chooses a simple set of vocabularies, so I never see it as anything boring. However, if the reader is far younger, a little less ready, or a little more teen, these pages are awkward yet effective mood-shifters.

Last year, I finally had the time to read Mga Kaibigan ni Mama Susan and mentioned in my book review that it lacks unity to build up the tension of the cliffhanger. In his latest book, he finally addresses it, on chapter 55, and I quote: "Mas mabuti na ang librong maraming sinasabi kumpara sa librong walang sinasabi" . At some point, he has silenced my doubts if he can really write a cohesive manifesto with only a single topic. What I realized is, I don't really have to tell him what to do with his writing style. I just have to understand what makes Bob Ong a writer, and accept his writing style the way other writers respect each other.

Blah, blah, blah, gibberish. I'm sleepy.

*** I am planning to write a book review about The Handmaid's Tale, or anything classic, but I feel I don't deserve to write a review about it. The book might get butchered in my undeserving hands. Hehe. Haha.

I don't even know somebody's reading my work

HISTORY OF THE BLOG

Two years ago, I had a mental breakdown that of course, my parents doesn't know (but I reckon they felt it) because it's not my thing to be communicative nor say what I feel. In either way, nobody will ever care. I grew up with apathetic parents.

HOW IT ALL GOES DOWN

So I had a second Facebook account that does nothing but to talk of my poetic angst. Looking back, it sounds like a middle-schooler's diary—but I never wouldn't mind. I just know that I need to let it out, for I lack a circle that can console what I feel. I am aware that a twenty-year-old woman is far too early for doing anything crazy; though sometimes I am thinking about being a rebel myself (but never had a courage to try).

So what I did was to write, write, write.

WELCOME, LOSERS!

So far, I already have a 1,000 page views this month. ONE. THOUSAND. PAGEVIEWS. Perhaps, I need to be more responsible with my words here. Well, I lack followers and each blog entires have no comments but as a devil-may-care word spitter, I need to be careful in what I utter, which emotion will I let out, or what perspective will I share to common readers. My blog starts to receive (somewhat decent) amount of page views. Congratulations, self!

The Tale of the Unknown

I control the information I share on any media. However, I hate those who makes a string of inaccurate stories about me just to fill the gaps they don't understand. They are not supposed to understand.

BOOK REVIEW: The Subtle Art of Not Giving A F*ck

I think I found the book The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck on instagram, propped up beside a lovely coffee mug with a tear-jerking caption that can make Michelle Obama cry. Somewhere around 2016, this book is a hit because number one: it appears on every book website I visit, and number two: damn, the F word sounds nice. Haha.

This is probably the first book that agrees with my rather careless life decisions. Am I REALLY careless? Are my virtues malleable and therefore easily persuaded? Or maybe something more: that I wouldn’t pay attention on my make-up because I have to update my résumé, or I would deliberately pick ukay-ukay than any high-end clothes shop because I don’t know… its way cheaper?

Then it dawned on me: we all have different filters in making decisions. Mine is self-improvement and happiness—EVERYTHING ELSE DOESN’T MATTER. I have known POVERTY since the day I was born, so I would rather be broke and happy than to be rich and miserable. Fuck it all. Therefore, maybe I was never really reckless jerk at all.

No copyright infringement intended 

Sorry Paris Hilton, I don’t want to be you. Please don’t get offended. I mean, I can’t be you because I can’t stomach the horrors of blind dating and fake flattery. YOU CAN. Who likes to be anybody’s trophy girlfriend? It sucks.

Choices, the value of suffering, and finding your self-identity by NOT giving a fuck at all—these are the things that might get you mind blown within 146 pages. It’s really short, actually, given that I’ve read it on PDF. But it’s worth reading, if you are willing to get your ego crushed so new perspective will blossom.

 I could kiss the author right now. Seriously.

BOOK REVIEW: Gapo by Lualhati Bautista

Mostly, novels have two possible outcomes: the good, and a tragic. The resolution may disappoint us, making us understand the frailty of human—on the other hand, there are stories that positively sheds a light of hope for the readers. In the end, the “absoluteness” of some conclusions are far more predictable than others.

The book Gapo, by Lualhati Baustista is way beyond that. Talking about the love-hate (and rather exploitative) relationship between Filipinos and Americans, it made me see that having no change is worse than a tragic ending at all.

Gapo by Lualhati Bautista talks about the tale of Magda, a prostitute in Olongapo, and Michael, a half-Filipino whose heart is seething with anger for Yankees. After a series of struggle between those them, and the clashes of their ideals, Magda still tragically becomes pregnant of her “boyfriend”, which later reveals already a married man.

This circular story sinks hopelessness deeper that after reading, you must accept that reality is so much complicated that what it looks like. No force on earth cannot change the way of Olongapo. No wannabe hero must dare to solve the problems of a sick society. The Filipino-American relationship roots deeper than the garbage exports and lustful Yankees being thrown in our land—for it is ingrained in our mindset, that terrible and disgusting colonial mentality.

I also like the commentaries in-between: Bautista talks about unfair quality of export products, how we are so accepting of their substandard products, and how Filipinos can almost die for the elusive American dream. There’s also a lot of subplot that makes the story alive, like Modesto, Jun, and William.

Overall, the only round character capable of shifting viewpoints is Magda. At the end of the novel, upon knowing that she’s been pregnant again by a Yankee, she ended seeing Michael’s viewpoints. She finally understands that illusory fairytale that every prostitute wants are just blinders that makes Americans more exploitative, and Filipinos more abused and beaten. 

The Blame Game (I have read the first chapter of Dale Carnegie's book)

Insane criminals never blamed themselves for anything. They just believed they are just defending their over inflated egos. They use reasoning, fallacious or logical, to justify their anti social acts: like dehumanizing their "enemies" with vindictiveness and insulting remarks.

They will NEVER understand what you feel; in fact, they will justify it even more. It's like talking to a brick wall.

BOOK REVIEW: Mga Kaibigan ni Mama Susan by Bob Ong

Bob Ong’s comical books has been already know for every Filipinos for years. After his debut work ABNKKBSNPL Ako, most of his works has gained an equal popularity for his comical style and witty lines. This time, his latest book Mga Kaibigan ni Mama Susan ventures a different breed of genre (I wonder what are the things he cannot do more than what he can). Gather your fires and pull up your blankets, because this kind of thriller makes your skin crawl and hairs rise in fear.

This is a series of diary entries of a college student named Gilberto—who has a recurring nightmare of a woman in black. Whenever he dreams of it, he wakes up in the morning panting and drenched in sweat. But alongside that, he has difficulties with his aunts and uncles. He is shouldering the chores all the time. He is the least favorite in the family, and most of his cousins are getting better privileges in the house than him. After finding out his grandmother has grown sickly, he decides to leave the city and look after her in a small province. He founds out that his lola (grandmother) has an almost-religious group “Kapatiran” which the whole province relies on, after banishing a Catholic priest. After a chain of horrendous events, like hearing their religious chanting, and somebody always taking his pen (so he cannot write in his diary), he realized that the Kapatiran was not just a group, nor anything that praises Jesus Christ.

With no electricity, mobile devices, or any help with the adjacent cities, will he able to escape his grandmom’s cult and the “Kapatiran” women?

Even though it is crafted effectively to scare the readers, its whole excitement is crammed at the end of the novel. The exposition is quite long, that isn’t attached to the conclusion. The narration of his school life didn’t rise up to strengthen the ending of his grandmother. I’m aware that it’s supposed to be a student’s diary, but having lots of incoherent angles in one book weakens its fluidity and oneness.

The Latin words gave rise to the climactic cliffhanger. Albeit the slow pace of the book, I like the way it ended.

Well, it works the same way in real life. Sometimes, we cannot control the people we love, and if they morphed to a monster we don’t know they are capable of, the best thing we should do is to simply run away and save ourselves. The guilt of leaving your family is unbearable, especially if you have a family like Gilberto who is guilt tripping you all the time, but there are moments when we have to think for ourselves and start saving our sanity.

After a long ride of eerie and disturbing experiences, this book from Bob Ong will let you have a taste of troubling rituals and terrifying nightmares. Coming from a life of a normal kid, it is enjoyable for it is seething with mystery.