“The Filipino reader will find in this book a collection of cultural parables, a map that he may hopefully use to trace his way home.” – from the Foreword by Randolf S. David
was unable to finish this book. it was exciting that there was a book concerning precolombian pinoy philosophy, ideas, mores, etc. but the author's tone was too much to take. the author is a german ex-pat wife of the filmmaker, kidlat tahimik. i am a huge fan of his films especially 'perfumed nightmare' so a book written by his wife was even more exciting for me. however, her fetishization of the culture and her patronizing communication of what she was so blessed to learn about was too much to take. books like these is why i prefer reading POC writing vs. white people coming from the outside to tell me about my own culture.
I could cut this book in half and be happier for it. "Kapwa" was the book that introduced me to the world of Virgilio Enriquez and Filipino psychology, and for that I am thankful.
The book's premise is that it's a case study of artists who serve as bearers of Filipino culture. The first part, the part that gives an overview of Filipino psychology and then sets up the premise of the book, is great stuff. But then you get to the actual case narratives and the book shifts to a tone far too personal and far too partisan for the reader to be able to glean insight, except if it be with a great deal of effort to see past the opinions of the author.
In the world of qualitative studies, a personal tone is acceptable, yes. Especially since it's popular now to say "there's no way to tell a truly objective narrative anyway." And it seems that's the world this book originally came from.
When you publish something for a broader public, however, it's important not to lose sight of your reader's perspective. It may not be very obvious, but reading is a shared and very intimate experience between the author and the reader, and to lose sight of that fact is to risk losing the connection.
That said, it's still a pretty good book to own, and the first chapters are as decent an introduction to Filipino Psychology as they come.
KAPWA started pretty amazing, with its chunky but accessible, and very meaningful breakdown of Virgilio Enriquez's Sikolohiyang Pilipino concepts of Filipino (individual and community) personhood, and she brought up this wonderful concept of culture bearing artists and the tacit knowledge these artists tap into in creating their art. Unfortunately, the book then declined into a fanatical and polarizing, accusatory tone that I found offensive and was more about the author coming from the outside and justifying her place among these indigenous artists: if you do not live the way of these culture bearing artists, then you are thoroughly colonized and contributing to the death of your root culture. This is a hard argument, and one I am actually willing to indulge in critical discussion. Still, the author chose also to defend these particular artists' marital infidelities, unwillingness and inability to take care of their families/children, and inability to work as a higher indigenous way of being in the world, in resistance against colonial impositions.
An unwillingness and inability to take care of one's partner(s) and offspring, not working IS NOT the indigenous way of life in the Philippines. In indigenous communities, each person has a responsibility to the community, and the community is dependent upon each person doing his/her part, as a hunter, gatherer, spiritual leader/teacher, farmer, artist/artisan, etc. These responsibilities are not determined by a single person's caprices, but by the community, in which an artist has been nurtured and apprenticed. I think this author, who by the way, is European, widely missed the mark, and this book is a reductive misrepresentation of the "indigenous" as it exists in modern day Filipinos.
This book is a beautifully designed, intimate look at a very vague aspect of Philippine culture, which the author insists is both scientific and spiritual. The prose is circular (but also repetitive), non-linear (but also scattered), and romantic (but also, on a certain level, Orientalizing). In the end, I’m not sure who this book was written for. If you’re already aware of the academic discourse of Sikolohiyang Pilipino, nothing herein is new; then again if you were raised Filipino most of it is also quite intuitive. In other words, this isn’t a reference book, despite it being based on the author’s doctoral dissertation.
From the reader’s experience, you can start at any chapter (or just read any one chapter at a time) and you won’t miss any context, because the author repeats them over and over, as if she’s saying them for the first time, every time. This style of writing, which can get frustrating, is a kind of “paligoy-ligoy,” a pleasant conversational loitering. Having read many psychospiritual books from folks of that generation (e.g. Gilda Cordero-Fernando & Mariel N. Francisco’s “A Spiritual Pillow Book”; Virgil Mayor Apostol’s “Way of the Ancient Healer”), I noticed that this is a very particular style of writing, one the reader has to immerse in to truly understand. But at the same time, it’s not really for the average reader; it’s for very specific people—usually, people within the author’s circles. They “get it,” and so despite all that talk of “Kapwa, self-in-the-other,” it’s still very much an exclusive club with insiders and outsiders. One cannot be a casual reader, and for some people, such as myself, that’s too much commitment.
Despite everything I’ve said, I still think more books like this should be published, if only to promote and preserve Filipino culture and cultural thought. We’ll get better and better at writing about the transpersonal, the more books like this come out. Personally I actually like Katrin de Guia’s spiritual take on Filipino psychology, which I know is still fringe, yet is very much a lived experience for Indigenous People.
While I found the biographical sketches on the artists ("culture-bearers) and even the personal, rambling style of writing quite interesting, the usual "West is bad, indigenous is good" polemic is just too on-the-nose to ignore, especially since it just gets repetitive towards the second half of the book.
This vulgar brand of nativism, quite prevalent among privileged Filipino artists and intellectuals banking on the exotic, is not necessarily abhorrent - until these artists and their stans start opening their mouths about politics. De Guia even made the familiar call that the political "left" and "right" should simply bring their hands together, in the name of some primordial "Filipino" kapwa culture, to finally bring back peace and love to the country. Groundbreaking!
That De Guia has built her ideas from the likes of Virgilio Enrquez and other icons of the so-called "Sikolohiyang Pilipino" - an intellectual movement endorsed by Ferdinand Marcos who has been intent on crafting a primeval "Maharlika" history without the baggages of political struggle, is quite telling.
It has always been a tendency among artists to aestheticize their politics, rather their politicize their aesthetics. To legitimize art as ahistorical and meta-political, may it be through an inaccessible historical past or through Chaos Theory (both seen in the book) is to ignore a basic aspect of art-making, which is bare life itself. Political and economic struggle - two things that individuals with enough materials and cultural capital can easily isolate themseleves from - are parts of this.
Kapwa culture and whatever aspects of indigenous Filipino culture, do not live on through the efforts of several brave individuals. It continues to be fostered, developed, and changed in shared practice specially of those of the people who actively struggle against modern imperialist culture. For a book tackling kapwa culture, seeing it being reduced into a mere matter of ignoring political differences and dancing weirdly together in the streets is a big disappointment.