Set in 1913, The Firewalkers follows police sergeant Gabriel Diego in the hard-bitten mountain town of Lakambaga, Cavite. Silver-spurred Americans and their new rule of law bristle against the fading glory of Gabriel Diego’s blood uncles, old generals spurned by Emilio Aguinaldo during the Philippine-American War. Meanwhile, a monster leaves behind mangled corpses of children as the cowboy Apache Kid searches the town for the remote memories of something else more magical.
Following this startling work of historical fiction made of magic and woodsmoke, Erwin E. Castillo finishes with “The Watch of La Diane,” a seductive companion story that follows two young lovers traveling across 1970s America. In a new preface for this edition, Castillo writes, “events of our interesting times, public as well as precious, were grist for these intertwined narratives that hoped to confront the present with amuletic relics of an invented past.”
Born on 29 September 1944, Erwin E. Castillo first studied in public schools, then attended U.P., and, on a U.S. State department scholarship, the University of Iowa in Iowa City. He is now in semi-retirement after spending almost 40 years in professional communications, although he continues to sit on the board of the companies he founded. He also actively consults with personal clients in business, sports and politics.
Erwin E. Castillo first began publishing stories, and later, poems in the old Philippines Free Press when he was literary editor of the Collegian. Since then, his works have been published and anthologized here, in Europe and in the United States. he has won a few prizes such as the Free Press, Palanca, Leader, Tagayan, and the ASEAN, which was the forerunner of the SEAWrite Prize.
Pulp pacing. Earthy prose. You get the sense Castillo must have read Blood Meridian at some point. Fun read, but very macho. Grand total of two named women, and one of them is an Indian princess stereotype kept as a sex slave the main character fucks ... like okay.
Simon Stack was right. This is a good book. A bit on the macho side, though. Even the front blurb by Nick Joaquin sounds macho, and the story is dominated by men. I once chucked a book in mid-read, something I rarely do, because I found it too much the man's book. But this has so much more heart, history, and story to it than Catch-22!
* There is a second, much shorter story in the book, The Watch of La Diane. Is it prose meant to be read as poetry? It is readable, but undecipherable.
Several thoughts while reading this: *I might not have been equipped enough to understand this 'high literature' or *The plot of the first story is something I can truly appreciate; the ending was a masterpiece; BUT HELL, how the work was littered with descriptive phrases seemingly lifted from classic novels was off-putting. *The second story was an attempt on stream of consciousness. *It would have been better if I hadn't tried finishing the book.
im so cooked dawg wdym i have to analyze this novel for class U COULD HOLD A GUN TO MY HEAD AND I STILL COULDNT TELL U WHAT TF HAPPENED IN THIS BOOK
my beef w this book: - there r Too Many Ways to refer to each and every character that are Not Explained Well - i feel like im missing A LOT of context (but ok sure my fault for not knowing ig esp considering im filipino) - what da fak . there r Two (2) named women in the entire novel and both of them have no actual relevance to the plot, have sex scenes, and are OBJECTIFIED IN EVERY SCENE THEYRE IN istg this book cant have a woman in the scene without going "she breasted boobily"
redeeming qualities: - premise is SO JNTERESTING i just wish i understood the novel more :(
the bad: yeah, the machismo of this book gets more than a little bit obnoxious. i guess it’s to be expected, given that it’s clearly meant to be a pulpy, gun-slinging kinda novel (at the very least superficially). the women are mostly relegated to sexual fantasies for the narrator, and have little personality to speak of. even as far as male-fantasy writers go, this was pretty bad—like christopher nolan levels of bad.
now, the good: it was a really engaging read, helped along by its short length and really inspired setting. the writing too was very poetic and at times beautiful, especially at key moments where the narrator’s past rears its head. but what really sold me on this book was its theming.
in the introduction, castillo writes that “events of our interesting times … were grist for these interrwined narratives that hoped to confront the present with amuletic relics of an invented past.” this, coupled with the knowledge that “the firewalkers” was written in a post-marcos philippines yet postluded by a short story written at the beginning of those horrid 15 years, is revealing. “the firewalkers”, and “the watch of la diane” are broadly about remembering a history that does not exist. both our narrators are in the throes of grief, and the stories use their ways of dealing with that grief to inform what we must do with our, post-national-trauma grief.
it’s tempting, as the narrator in “the watch of la diane” does, to wallow in a long-lost past and wish things hadn’t worked out the way they did. but this drives our narrator to insanity, and so too will it do to us; so often we see calls to return to a precolonial identity, to embrace the mysticism and traditions of our past. but i’m wary of such calls. too often are they reactionary and only seek to replace one cultural hegemon with another, which is exemplified as good only through its differences with the former.
instead, i think we must do the much harder work that the narrator of “the firewalkers” does: accept that the wisdom of our ancestors does not always hold all the answers. there’s this very touching section right near the climax of the book where an older relative of the narrator tells him, “it is unfair that fathers have no answers for the children.” it is unfair that we have to learn to deal with historical events that have no precedent, to fight against oppression that would never have been dreamt upon by an earlier time. but c’est la vie, right? we just gotta keep our memories close and keep on moving.
this line of thinking is really reminiscent of what gina apostol writes about in her intro to bibliolepsy, where she wishes that edsa transcended its role as a symbol of some idealized past. castillo repeats that warning here for our precolonial condition, treating it not as a bygone dream—invented as that image is—but as something we ultimately have to transcend (but never forget) in order to move forward with the necessary work of postcolonialism.
it seems i always end up going down this throughline when i read historical fiction i really like, but maybe that’s just because it’s a sign of good historical fiction.
interesting read, i think the ending is a biiiiit rushed. not really the kinda book with a dramatic reveal but i liked the mix of vibes and images that the small town had, the whole contrast between the past glorious revolution and the uncertainty over american rule.
gotta admit- there's some sexism, but the image of a littlefeather fucking both the american assigned filipino police sergeant and the sharpshooter late to the biz makes sense in my opinion, first because it's a literal metaphor - they're both fucked. but second because it compares how lacking they are in comparison to the general that fought in the revolution and the has-been spanish actor that at least had a whole career before. it's not great that there's only two women, and the sergeant's wife ends up dead. but! littlefeather actually being a blonde woman that poses as native american as a performance gimmick highlights how grotesque it is for white settlers claiming that continent as their own, and how it's no wonder they tried to do the same here. there's a point to be made on how this ruins both these new gen kids who are just mere echoes of those before. what the general says to the sergeant later on reinforces this and acknowledges their own responsibility in the matter.
is it also just me or is the titled rumored rebels are actually spirits haunting the town? they're walking in fire, they're walking in living hell. that, followed by the very rambly stream-of-consciousness the watch of la diane was pretty jarring, but i need the firewalkers adapted like.... yesterday. mikhail red if you're somehow reading this 😗
++ kinda vibed with la diane too. it is VERY rambly, but while it poses as a love letter reminiscing on all the dates with the girl in new york, the in between notes caught my eye. the phone calls back home, the americans who say that they're against the bases being made but nothing is being done. you would think the guy is still in new york but the postscript says his true decision to return back home. very ambivalent feeling because while yes, hopefully the education he got (with his fulbright scholarship) would be useful back in home, there's this wistfulness towards how free he is in the us. the land of the free being the only place where you can be free.... sadly both stories still mirror today's philippines
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
something terrible is brewing. children are dying horribly while the traitor scouts and colluding constabularies suspend due process to crack down on bandits, who turn out to be old heroes of the bourgeois revolution, their moments of glory stolen by their defeat to the americans, declare that something must be done about this. the protagonist does his job dutifully not for service but for the hope of honor, reclaiming the Honor he fumbled so dishonorably with his capitulation in the war, and with this he takes orders from an american army major with zeal, but he knows he has to Act and look forwards in the direction of the old war flags, the three K's high in the wind.
very beautiful prose, unlike anything ive read (except for wilfredo nolledo though, his was even more special but this review is not about him). one thing the two authors have in common though aside from their lyrical command of english is their proclivity to writing "She Breasted Her Breasts Boobily" for every female character they wrote, as one other review on here puts it. there are only two named female characters here, one is described as a whore and the other one is married but is implied to be an object of masturbatory desire by the protagonist (yes page 98 exploding galaxies 1st edition)..it had a good ending
i could say the same for the watch of la diane which i think should have been separate from the firewalkers but whatever. Good train-of-though kind of writing that makes me go woah... you can call a really long prose poem a novel... total 4/5
A few characters here are too vile, like that Apache Kid, who is not a Filipino (and I don’t want this to be an issue about race, but I believe his racial group deserves a better representation, like give him an antithesis from the same race or get him out of the narrative! *sighs*). I said “a few,” but he and the anonymous (see, no spoilers!) murderer stood out. The main character, Gabriel Diego, is somewhat tolerable (unless I missed out some parts that would make me retrieve this after a reread). The others are not even though I am used to reading novels or stories with macho characters whose ways and perspectives take up the narrative. Other reviews have commented how rife machismo is in this novel, so I rather not expound on that anymore.
Its aesthetics make its story a little difficult to follow, but once I got the gist of it, I enjoyed it. Its companion story did a lot to solidify the overall theme.
packed with social commentary, ‘the firewalkers’ explores the evolving dynamics in politics as americans took over ruling the philippines. moreso, there exists an underlying tension brought by the moral struggle between loyalty and keeping one’s honor intact.
i fear that the companion story may have just gone over my head. i may need to discuss this book with someone, please hmu.
Castillo’s pen sings, his verse-like sentences conjuring the scent of burnt human fat dripping on cooked potatoes; evoking the spectacle of a time when the Americans sought to bring us Filipinos to heel, benevolence yet to come and violence dispersed in the name of controlling rebellion. This is no romantic traipsing through memory, but a bloody resurrection of things nearly forgotten: of aging heroes reduced to petty bureaucrats doing the American’s dirty work, disguised as public service; of the slow moral decay of the greedy generation that emerged after heroes, and “the conflagration they sparked but could not in the end command.”