Award-winning stories and tales about the rites of passage in our lives—love and loss, gladness and grief, departure and return—written in the realistic and fabulist modes
A collection of short fiction on love, longing and loss written in the realist and fantastic modes. A young boy and his sisters gather beautiful shells on the beach as mementos of a country they will leave behind. A girl who loves the Beatles sees dwarfs that are drawn charcoal-black on a white plate. A rich matron in Singapore discovers a primeval thing in her ritzy penthouse. A poor woman in the boondocks gives birth to a mudfish. Dead lovers buried beneath a hotel ruined by an earthquake reach out to each other. And a woman poisoned in Scotland centuries ago still haunts a hilltop castle, looking for her dead lover.
These and other memorable characters inhabit Danton Remoto’s book of stories and tales. Some of the stories are written in the realistic mode. They poke fun at a colorful but violent dictatorship or track the same-sex love in a young man’s heart. The others are written in the fantastic mode—fables, parables, origin tales, cheeky rewriting of rural lore and urban legends. The length of the stories also varies. Some are flash fiction, while the others have the sweep of a novella. The stories are meant to entertain but also to instruct: why the present is just a re-looping of the past, why love remains constant and true even beyond death. Written with daring and with dash, this book comes from the pen of ‘one of Asia’s best writers’.
Danton Remoto was born on 25 March 1963 in Basa Air Base, Pampanga. He was an ASEAN scholar at the AdMU where he obtained his AB Interdisciplinary Studies in 1983. With his Robert Southwell scholarship, Remoto obtained his MA English Lit., 1989; then, on a British Council fellowship, another MA in publishing studies, 1990, at the University of Stirling, Scotland.
He was a Local fellow for poetry at the UP Creative Writing Center, 1994. He was at Hawthornden Castle, 1993, and later, at the Cambridge Seminar. Remoto teaches at AdMU where he manages the Office of Research and Publishing. He is also studying for his Ph.D. in creative writing at UP. He was an associate of PLAC and a member of the Manila Critics Circle since 1989.
He has won various awards, among them, the ASEAN prize for the essay, 1979; the Palanca for the essay in 1987; the CCP literary award for poetry; the Stirling District Arts Council award for poetry and the short story. Among his works: Skin , Voices , Faces , Anvil, 1991; Black Silk Pajamas / Poems in English and Filipino , Anvil, 1996. He edited Buena Vista [Alfrredo Navarro Salanga's poems and fiction], 1989 and co-ed., Gems in Philippine Literature , 1989. More importantly, he has co-edited the Ladlad series with J. Neil Garcia.
The first thing I noticed from this collection—and something anyone can always appreciate—is the fact that Danton Remoto is undeniably a great writer. There is a vividness to his descriptions, a realness to his stories and characters that makes them breathe with the life that sweeps across his pages. Whatever he is describing, you see it just as clearly as the ink of the letters you are reading. Remoto also has a distinct style of framing his stories. Whether by visiting a place living with memories, opening a photo album documenting the bygone, or reading a simple heartfelt letter, the reader is suddenly transported to a world sustained only by what the protagonist’s mind can recall.
While the writing alone is worthy of the most well-worded compliments, stories are not solely sustained by it; the characters, the plots, and their resolutions play just as critical a role as a flowery pen and the shiniest ink. It is here, unfortunately, where this collection falls short. Though doubtlessly inspired by happy memories (the author himself mentioned this in an interview kept in the appendix), the stories composed from them do not automatically make for great, engaging, and memorable stories.
Many fall into the trap of being, quite literally, just random, unscripted scenes (“The Snake,” “The Two Women of Bantayan,” “Wings of Desire”). Often, a whole lot of nothing—plot, action, development, or any excitement—happens (“Child of the Ash-Covered Sky,” “Beginnings,” “Ghosts”). Sometimes, when a tale is just about to finish hooking the reader in, the supernatural slices through and detaches the situation from reality, derailing all emotional investment won thus far (“Parable of the Summer No. 2: The Sea,” The Ruined Hotel”). (There is nothing inherently wrong with the supernatural in writing. Perhaps if these could have just been framed in a different way—a grandmother telling stories to her grandchildren, a kid overhearing the spooky chatter of some teens in school—then they could have flowed more smoothly.) Finally, some—with heavy themes too—just end too quickly, long before any attachment or fondness can take root save for a quick witty gag in the end (“Lola’s Vroom Vroom”).
Despite many of the lackluster tales mentioned above, Remoto has in store some of the most poignant, charming, and nostalgic tales that one will find in contemporary Filipino fiction. “The Sound of the Sea” is a cute, picturesque scene of a homeland soon to be missed. “The Chameleon Years” is a touching look at the love and respect a student can have for his teacher, all thanks to the latter’s care and concern. “Lola” presents a peak into all those raw and living memories that we often fail to think about when with our grandparents. “A Various Season” is a unique look at the disparity between economic classes—in that the protagonist merely recognizes it and is not angry or melancholic—while also serving as a commentary on what true comfort is. “The Country of Desire” is delivered with caustic wit and humor which ushered a chuckle from me several times, aside from also telling a man’s tale through life; it’s a story that deserved the time it took to tell.
Finally, “Letter to Brian” is simply gorgeous, beautiful, and utterly marvelous. Again, Remoto’s penchant for framing his stories in such unique yet effective ways is in full display here—the story within the story, and both of them are touchingly sublime. The language, the voice used all throughout is excellent. Emotions are felt, scenes are seen, and the overarching message hits its mark. The commentary on how small, petty grievances can destroy much larger connections is also perfectly done, encouraging the reader to reflect: “Small things, little things, like drops of water destroying the solidity of a rock” (109). Admittedly, I am not normally drawn to LGBT-related stories or romances—whether due to my Christian upbringing, my simple inability to relate, or the forced, flimsy way they are typically executed—but this one just so naturally breathes painstaking life that I cannot help but absolutely adore it.
Overall, I am glad I picked this book up at the Rizal Library. I was thoroughly entertained, charmed, and delighted by these stories and tales. (I also found it sweet how the copy there—a gift by the author himself to his alma mater—had a dedication that mentioned how some of these very stories were conceptualized in that library.)
Though bogged down by the subpar entries, this entire collection is raised by those that blow you straight into the humid winds of a Philippine summer. You recall many of the characters’ memories as your own, you relate with them, you hear the waves crashing on the beach, you recall your own childhood, and maybe, just maybe, you find in these stories some encouragement, some hope to press forward.
Have you ever read a book of short stories and suddenly whispered to yourself, “These deserve to be in short indie films”?
When reading the nineteen short stories of “The Heart of Summer” by Danton Remoto, the consciousness of my mind felt like I was stepping on the sand while the sea waves continue to serene the silence of the beautiful sunset as I searched and gathered the different sea shells hiding beneath the sand, waiting for me to uncover a story “sometime in that summer,” previously placed in each of the shells. Each short story deeply links to Filipino cultures, traditionally conservative topics, unforgotten histories, and ancient myths and legends that at some point molded our childhood especially those who grew up in a Filipino family.
From grief in loss to gladness in returns, from our urban and rural legends to topics that are ones or still now conservative to be opened in the household, from past summer memories to living for the hope of the future, you don’t just read Danton Remoto’s works. You need to read them with your heart and all of your presence at that moment to fully grasp his messages and intentions. You may not exactly find and interpret what he actually means in some of the metaphors waiting to be deciphered but digging deeper into them makes you access and unlock different versions of your own emotions, vulnerabilities, and interpretations that truly deserves to be claimed as masterpieces.
The stories of love, grief, and loss are what pierced right into the heart of mine and cut me into pieces for I have never wailed in front of a book like I have done here yet move me in various perceptions after finishing every story about those. They may be simple stories to some but it happened to find me, a reader it’ll break the chains from the traumas and heartaches she was imprisoned from.
I had the best summer moments with these short stories I call ‘summer times’ and it truly is perfect to be entitled “The Heart of Summer.” Thank you so much, dear Penguin SEA and to sir Danton Remoto for gifting me this book I regard as ‘a box of precious sea shells.’ May many readers find this too for it deserves to be.
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This should be supposed to be kept from those who are still about to devour this book but I can’t help to also share an addition to my fascination with the ending of the last short story for it was orchestrated so beautifully that it left more than just a thought of how the last story should be ended but how free you and the author are to write what’s next in your chapter of life. The satisfaction in finishing this book is surreal.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.