Nathan Go’s taut meditation on forgiveness and regret is told in the indelible voice of a Filipino chauffeur nearing the end of his life.
After suffering a serious heart injury, Lito Macaraeg reaches out to his estranged son―a journalist who lives in the United States, far from his father’s Manila nursing home―to promise him a the story of a secret meeting between Imelda Marcos and Corazon Aquino. Imelda, best known for her excessive shoe collection, was the flamboyant wife of the late Philippine dictator; Corazon was the wife of the opposition politician who was allegedly killed by the Marcoses. An unassuming housewife, Corazon rose up after her husband’s death to lead the massive rallies that eventually toppled the Marcos dictatorship.
Lito was Corazon’s personal driver for many years, and her only companion on the journey from Manila to Baguio City to meet Imelda. Throughout the long drive, Lito’s loyalty to his employer is pitted against his own moral uncertainty about her desire to forgive Imelda. But as Lito unspools his tale about two women whose choices shaped their country’s history, his own story, and failings, slowly come to light. He delves into his his neglectful father, who joined a Communist guerrilla movement; their life in a mountain encampment headed by a charismatic priest; and Lito’s struggles with poverty and ambition. In the end, it is Lito himself who must contemplate the meaning and possibility of forgiveness.
In Forgiving Imelda Marcos , Nathan Go weaves a deeply intimate novel of alternative history that explores power and powerlessness, the nature of guilt, and what we owe to those we love.
Nathan Go was the 2017-2018 David T. K. Wong Fellow at the University of East Anglia. A former PEN America Emerging Voices fellow, he graduated from the Iowa Writers' Workshop and the Zell Writers' Program. His fiction has appeared in Ploughshares, American Short Fiction, Ninth Letter, and The Massachusetts Review. Forgiving Imelda Marcos is his first novel.
‘Forgiving Imelda Marcos’ is a crafty, moving, and thoughtful story about regret, forgiveness, guilt, political power, and complex relationships.
We find Lito Macaraeg in the Philippines as he is nearing the end of his life after suffering a heart injury. Before he passes, Lito attempts to connect with his estranged son through a letter under the premise of sharing an untold story between two powerful figures in Philippino politics, Imelda Marcos and Corazon Aquino, for him to use for his career as a journalist in the United States.
Lito was Corazon’s driver and her only companion to meet Imelda years after the Marcos' alleged assassination of her husband Benign Aquino, the main opposition leader to the Marcos' rule.
However, the letter has a dual purpose. To share the story behind the secret meeting between Imelda and Corazon and with the main intention to win his son’s forgiveness for his failings as a father. Lito reflects and shares his personal story which exposes his neglectful father, his struggle with ambition and confidence, and his paternal regret as he also unpacks what it means to forgive and to be redeemed.
This story slightly over 200 pages, was a very easy read. I love any story surrounding the themes of regret and forgiveness because no matter our intention, we will all have some people or actions that we would like to have a do-over with. But forgiveness is out of our control, and we will have to attempt to make peace and justify our decisions, just like Lito.
The title of the story intentionally sets you up for a different experience than intended which I honestly didn’t mind as I feel this is exactly the experience Lito’s son will have reading his letter. He believes it’s about a juicy meeting when in reality it is about something more personal.
The backdrop of real significant figures and events in Philippino history I thoroughly enjoyed as I was unfamiliar with but was intrigued to do more research after my reading.
The surprise ending redeemed itself for me with the acknowledgment from Lito and I felt dually Nathan about the ending:
“I wonder if your readers might think it too disappointing … they might feel as if they’ve been taken along for a ride, no pun intended. On the other hand, I’m hoping that readers are a self-selecting bunch. Somehow, I think we tend to appreciate the truth more than a fiction, even if it isn’t as exciting”.
This inclusion was smart and a great reminder that even with fiction, not all endings will be fantastical and exciting because that is not how life is. Those that are open and can appreciate that, I believe can appreciate this story.
READ IF YOU LIKE... • The power of forgiveness • Difficult parent-child relationships • Exploring the effects of political upheaval
I THOUGHT IT WAS... A beautifully written, multi-layered story that interweaves the often overlooked history of the Philippines. Lito is near the end of his life, so he decides to write a series of letters to his estranged adult son living in the United States. Through these letters, he ends up telling not just his story as chauffeur to Philippines president Corazon Aquino, but the story of a nation.
Imelda Marcos is the wife of Philippines dictator Ferdinand Marcos, who ruled over the country for over 20 years. The actions of her and her husband not only caused irreparable damage to the country, but to both Corazon and Lito's families. So, in a situation like this, is forgiveness possible? And what would that forgiveness achieve?
Go takes these central questions and overlays them across all the stories that unravel in tandem over the course of this novel. Can Lito forgive his father for continuously abandoning him? Can a country forgive a world that either looks down on it or overlooks it entirely? And finally, the unspoken question, could Lito's son ever find it within himself to forgive a father he never really knew?
Go uses the troubles of a country to frame powerful personal tales of hopeful redemption, while also using those same human stories to introduce us to the history of an entire nation. It's a hard feat to pull off and Go has done it perfectly.
Thank you to NetGalley and Farrar, Straus and Giroux for giving me a copy in exchange for an honest review.
First, great book cover. The font type one sees on Filipino jeepney route signs put me in the mood to go on a road trip with Lito and Mrs. Aquino.
Second, the writing was quite lovely, as one would expect of a long letter from a loving father to his son. I highlighted a lot. It was thoughtful, observant, and well-paced.
But! there were certain parts towards the end (mostly around Ka Noel and his relationship with Lito and his parents, plus what happened at Ka Anna’s hut) that I thought needed to be fleshed out a bit more then integrated with the larger tapestry of the story. They seemed to be glossed over too quickly or too ambiguously but were actually important to understanding Lito’s history and his decisions later on. The bit about Lito and his friend Ramon felt like it was just thrown in last minute to tie loose threads. This could just be my shortcoming in reading between the lines, but I think the conclusion of Lito’s story could have been a tad tighter. This isn’t a hard history book about the left / opposition nor does it hit any nails like similar fictional stories (to be fair, few come close to the likes of Lualhati Bautista anyway), but I almost always expect a more impactful delivery especially when the title and premise are as polarizing or controversial as this.
A big sigh of relief though upon learning that this isn’t a story about actually forgiving Imelda Marcos or making a case for the Marcoses and sympathy towards them.
pagninilay; A review of Forgiving Imelda Marcos by Nathan Go | Many thanks to NetGalley and Farrar, Straus and Giroux for giving me a copy in exchange for an honest review.
"[Perhaps] we've been so poor for so long that we can no longer afford to be virtuous? For what is honesty or virtue, when you're watching your son or daugher or father or mother waste away and starve?"
"With all due respect, what makes you think you have the right to forgive Imelda Marcos?"
Forgiving Imelda Marcos follows Lito Macaraeg, former driver to an imagined Cory Aquino, who writes long missives to his estranged son in the United States. He has promised something of an exclusive to his journalist offspring: a confession on a journey taken with the former president to meet Imelda Marcos, half to the pair of the conjugal dictatorship. The letter-writer is front and center, contextualized with tangents on his childhood, his experience in the mountains with a rebel group, and life with the Aquinos. As a meditation on life during and post-Martial Law—and as a last-ditch effort from a father to connect with his son—this is a beautifully written novel that boasts of its Filipinoness. But as a cultural product in this specific context, it suffers from its vacillation.
On a technical level, the language in the novel is its strength. Go, in the voice of Macaraeg, has a gift for breaking words down to deliver a gut punch. In one instance, he talks about the rice terraces in terms of what its name sounds like, "hagdang-hadgang palayan" as the very space upon which "you can really hear the clip-clop of someone's feet ascending or descending." This attention to rhythm is an homage to the beauty of language in Filipino hands, and the way it is used here to add depth to the character is brilliant. Yet for all that it's beautiful, it also distracts. The writer is ever in the room, and it wars for attention with his driver-protagonist. (Lito is a learned man, the text makes clear, but some of the word choice points to translation. It is obvious he is talking to an American audience. You wonder then, whether it is Lito speaking, or his journalist son and his editors.)
The story itself is interesting. The narrator has a colorful past, and he can be forgiven for his decisions, his stubbornness, his thoughts on matters. The episode in the mountains, for example, justifies his politics as an adult. (Something I appreciate is that the novel never asks us to agree with him.) His interactions with the fictional former president are warm. If this were only about him, this would easily have been five stars. But the entire premise makes it harder to evaluate this as a story solely about one man.
Coming into this, I was expecting some level of sympathy for the Marcoses. I was delighted to learn that, despite some humanizing on the part of Lito, they were not made out to be sympathetic figures. This is important, even the novel concedes, when false narratives brought them back to power. However, I do feel that it props up the Aquinos too much. The central conceit reveals this. It falls prey to the myth that Martial Law was between two families and their allies, instead of the Marcoses against the Filipino people. Lito asks, "what makes you think you have the right to forgive Imelda Marcos?" And Go answers that question when he reveals his cards. At any other time, if this were about any other subject, this would have been so good. Alas, we are in the now.
This is a good debut. It could have been great. For all this, I look forward to what Go writes next.
Is this book what you would call a bait and switch? The title is very loaded and insinuates a story before even reading the plot, but Cory Aquino and Imelda Marcos and all of the major events and personas just serve as a backdrop for our narrator. This book serves as the medium in which the narrator, Lito, write to his son.
This is an honest story that deals with themes of regret and what if’s. The prose was stunning. I’m surprisingly not too mad about how minor of a plot the Aquino’s and the Marcoses played in this. I would always patronize the voice of the common folk. 4.25/5
I love reading a book and being surprised by the outcome! This was a read where I had no idea what the outcome would be yet I loved the story of the father and his son. At times I did feel lost and found it hard to keep up with the characters / perspective that was being shared but I would read again for more clarity
Rounded up to a 2.5 because I was feeling #generous... I don't know if it's the bare minimum but I felt like giving the book credit for not being apologist propaganda, contrary to what the title might claim. The author also uses language beautifully, defying elitist expectations of what a driver "should sound like" as he ties together events from his personal life to present the power of forgiveness.
But I still have a lot of conflicting feelings about this book, which I ended up finishing a day after the anniversary of the declaration of Martial Law. That period in our history plunged millions into a deep darkness, with its effects still reverberating to this day. And yet in Go's debut, this is somewhat reduced to a fight between two families: so much about Ninoy's heroism and Cory's bravery – to the point where he somewhat glorifies them and puts them on too high of a pedestal – but not enough about the very real effects of the Marcoses' corruption and greed on their constituents.
The overall message is still pretty solid: the Marcoses refuse to be held accountable for their crimes against the Filipino people, more so during their current return to power, and thus they do not deserve redemption. But I just think that any work that decides to take on a subject matter of this gravity and market it to an international audience has the responsibility to shed light on and flesh out what exactly happened during this time, even if it claims to be historical fiction.
I was fairly young during the time of the Marcoses so I only know what I learned from others while it was going on and then later from research for my own curiosity. This novel draws from events at the time but prior knowledge of them is not necessary to enjoy it. This, above all else, is about forgiveness, about intentionally letting go of resentment and anger. It is a beautifully written story that weaves Filipino history with one man’s struggle of needing forgiveness from the son he doesn’t know and being able to forgive his father who treated him just as badly. Highly recommended if you enjoy well-crafted prose, messy relationships, and the power of forgiveness.
Bonus points for the narrator, Ramon de Campo – his accents were spot-on!
I received a copy from #NetGalley for an honest review.
A few years ago I realized how few books I had read by Filipino authors, and as a Filipina American I’ve been on the lookout for more titles. I was excited when I first saw this book as I loved the cover. Overall I was entertained throughout the book but felt as though it could have been developed more, potentially into a longer novel vs. an almost novella which this book felt like to me. I felt like there could have been more character development and also that the point of view fell a little flat. Overall would give it a 3.25 - excited to have more Pinoy representation
It needs to be said that this book has some brilliant writing in it. The language is accessible, with a nice touch of local color, and the fact that the narrator is an ordinary man, a family driver, makes the erudition in the writing somewhat subversive.
That being said, this book landed flat for me. It's rushed and underdeveloped, the plot and characterization are flimsy, and the payoff is unsatisfactory.
I was intrigued and also a tad apprehensive when I checked out this book from the library.
In the past, when I read some of the older Fil-Am authors' works, most of them seem contrived and, well, just not easy to understand. Nathan Go, author of "Forgiving Imelda Marcos" was, thankfully, able to spin a tale from his imagination of what it would have been like should these old rivals come face to face. I liked that it was wasy to understand and follow, and that the words used by the author to describe the situation, the feelings, the events were carefully chosen but don't seem forced or highfaluting. The words flowed nicely.
This book, with its title, was intriguing. As one who grew up during the People Power Revolution and having some youthful impressions of both ladies, the subject matter, set against that backdrop was a good staging area for the protagonist, Lito, who worked as Mrs. Aquino's driver.
Here, the book is really about his recollections and reflections on his past, his history, and how he tries to connect with his future, his son, in order to resolve some of the ghosts from his past.
At first, it was a bit discombobulating as I thought maybe the son would respond, or would really have a voice in the story, but it was mainly Lito's voice. Once I got that figured out, I was able to settle in to the story.
It's a great read--not too focused on historical events but more on the personalities that made up that period of time. There are some philosophical musings as well--about forgiveness, forgetting, and even faith. The ending was a bit disappointing as he still remains indifferent towards faith despite everything.
Nevertheless, it's worth a read.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Books, like people, have a way of finding us when we need them most. I first encountered this novel in a sunlit San Francisco bookstore, its spine catching my eye as I wandered the aisles during a visit to a friend. I didn’t know then that it would take a year for me to open its pages, nor did I know what truths it would lay bare.
At first glance, I believed it to be a story of Corazon Aquino offering forgiveness to Imelda Marcos—a tale of politics and power. But within, I found something far more intimate: a meditation on the tangled threads binding Filipino fathers to their sons. It whispered of the heavy weight our fathers carry, raised in the unyielding grip of Catholic tradition, and how that weight sometimes spills into the lives of sons who walk in a world that has shifted, modern and unrelenting.
The words stirred something deep within me, forcing me to confront the shadows of my own relationship with my father. It pulled me back to that final night, the night I was blessed with the chance to say good-bye, and in doing so, it wove sorrow and grace together in ways I had not yet understood.
But this was not just a story of fathers and sons; it was the story of the Philippines herself, caught between two worlds. One foot planted firmly in the soil of the past, where tradition roots itself, while the other steps into the beckoning light of an uncertain future. And as the pages turned, it posed questions as sharp as a blade: What do we remember? What do we forgive?
Yet, more than anything, it revealed to me that life is not a chain of random circumstances. It is a tapestry, woven with choice, memory, and the echoes of those who came before us.
Here is an example of how not to judge a book by its cover. In this case, its title. Given my disdain of the Marcos’ persistent denial of human rights violations during the dictatorship, I would not have picked up this book despite it being a work of fiction. But thanks to a Rappler review, I gave the novel a second look. Suffice to say, I enjoyed reading it and was quite surprised by the ending!
Forgiving Imelda Marcos begins as a letter from Lito, a father who is mortally sick, to his estranged son, a journalist living in America. He promise him a scoop: the story of a secret meeting between Imelda Marcos and Corazon Aquino years before. Lita was once Corazon’s personal driver and her only companion on the journey from Manila to Baguio City to meet Imelda. Throughout the long drive, Lito’s loyalty to his employer is pitted against his own moral uncertainty about Corazon’s desire to forgive Imelda.
“With all due respect, what makes you think you have the right to forgive Imelda Marcos?”
The plot is interesting. The author is able to navigate an alternative history that examines personal and national grief. Alone and dying in a hospital, Lito’s letters soon wanders into his past: his own neglectful father; his struggles with poverty; and ultimately, the effects of his separation from his own child. As a reader, I am left pondering about the meaning and possibility of forgiveness. But who exactly is entitled to forgive? In a most unexpected way, the author concludes the story.
This was such a disappointing book. Until the last 20 pages I gave it 3 stars. Until that point I felt like I didn't hate it, didn't mind reading it, but was not very impressed by it and felt a little letdown. But the last 20 pages angered me. I felt tricked like I was tricked into reading a book that I would get something from, whether mundane slice of life, or a story, or a revelation, or just ANYTHING big or small. And as a Filipino-American, I did enjoy seeing what life was like growing up in the Philippines. But really I was just tricked into reading a deadbeat dad's plea for forgiveness--worse yet a plea for the reader, his son, anyone to tell him it was OK for him to be not just a coward to his family, but a fucking coward for himself, in his own life. And that his son didn't want to talk to him or hear him out feels like even more trickery. Lito does not deserve our redemption. He does not get to ask to be heard, be denied, and then say, OK well what if we talk about something else, but really in the end it will still be what I wanted to talk about in the first place.
Ugh. Did not like. I feel gross and betrayed for having read it. It only gets 2 stars because of everything leading up to it. And also, if he is trying to compare his failings to that of Imelda Marcos, fucking really? How self absorbed are you?
Will any Filipino truly pick up this book in the spirit of neutrality and with an open mind? Seeing the Marcos name in public will always be a charged experience, whether you are filled with spite or glee. And so, I picked up the book from my neighborhood library with specific feelings of resentment, in context of the 2022 Philippine elections.
Firstly, I wanted to put this review out there so people will not be deceived by the title. This book is not about the Marcos family per se and it is a work of fiction.
However, the book speaks a lot about forgiveness against the background of the 1970s-1980s. The story is told in the point of view of Lito, Mrs. Aquino's family driver. He talks about his difficult childhood & parent-child relationships between his own father and now, his son.
The story is acceptable and entertaining enough to keep me engaged, which makes it an easy read. The main reason I liked it is because of glimpses of text that felt cathartic.
In the end, do I feel forgiving of the Marcos family? Haha, no, but that's the beauty of fiction and freedom of the imagination
3.5 stars. I had such a tough time finishing this book. Essentially I read the first third, put it down for a year or so, and only just recently came back to finish it. Once I came back to it and became more used to the choppy yet somehow stream of consciousness flow, it was a lot easier to read.
This book is an older man's musings on his life first and foremost, and speculation on the Philippines' history and politics second. This book is much more focused on exploring its characters than it is on delivering a full story arc to the reader, which I sometimes enjoy. I do feel like for all the philosophical musing, it is frustrating that the characters actively shy away from concluding anything for themselves. As much as I enjoy that all the characters are so deeply flawed, I also recognize it makes them unlikeable.
The prose itself is really nice to read. It's easy to understand but has a flow that makes it almost melodic. Even though I imagine the hard breaks between different sections are in-story breaks the narrator took himself, I still wish there were fewer to avoid breaking the flow of the chapters so often.
A sick old man, longtime driver for Corazon Aquino’s family–before, during, and after her presidency of the Philippines–records for his son in America, from whom he’s been separated for decades, an account of driving Mrs. Aquino to visit Imelda Marcos, an account frequently and at length interrupted by other random, garbled, and confusing recollections and philosophical reflections. Ultimately, it’s a story–multiple stories, actually–of forgiveness, but it takes a long time to build up to them, and the buildup is not very effective (I almost gave up on it). And the surprising conclusion is disappointing. Along with the man’s personal story, we also incidentally get details about Filipino political history under Ferdinand and Imelda Marcos and Corazon Aquino (along with the resistance to them), which I would have appreciated more had it not been so garbled. And his quasi-philosophical reflections, seemingly passed off as the wisdom borne of a lifetime of experience, mostly struck me as sophomoric or banal.
The writing itself in this book was very thoughtful, and Lito, the main character proved to be a great storyteller. Basically a story of forgiveness, a dying Filipino father whose neglected his family imparts this novel as an offering for his son in hopes of leaving something for him to use, perhaps in his journalist career or perhaps really in his journey of forgiveness. At around 200 pages this should have been an easy read, but toward the middle I found myself drifting... The parts that I would have found most interesting, like Ka Noel, Lito's life in the mountains, and his relationship with the mother of his child were skimmed over. Not to mention the obvious plot twist with the title. More or less I enjoyed reading though. Again, embarrassingly this novel taught me things I never would have known about communist and post communist era Philippines... even though it was fiction lol
This was such an interesting thing to read after our trip to the Philippines earlier this year. It describes driving from Manila to Baguio when Lito takes Mrs. Aquino (retired former Filipina president) on a road trip, which was fun to read about. It also describes the socialist/Communist groups that live deep in the mountains and jungles of the Philippines, and their affect on young Lito's life.
However, Lito is the definition of an unreliable narrator, and as such his story shifts and changes throughout the entire story, so much so, that I wasn't sure what the point of the story was at the end. Just a way to connect with his son, I guess? Also, his refusal to look some truths in the eye made me wonder what the point of even bringing them up in first place. Still, this was an interesting POV of a tumultuous time in Filipino history, and a very interesting What If narrative.
The title caught my eye while browsing at the library. This story was not at all what I expected. I was surprised how into this I really was. I downloaded “The Night Circus” while about 100 pages into this novel, and shockingly kept coming back to this book before bedtime. At first I thought the narrator rambled a lot, but I got used to his storytelling and grew very fond of him, despite his flaws. It’s a debut novel, so it’s not the smoothest ever told. For those unfamiliar with the Aquinos and the Marcoses: This is not based on a true story, it’s just based on real people. The story is a complete work of fiction.
A driver focalizes this story. It was during a trip up North, with Lito, Cory’s driver and a character in Nathan Go’s Forgiving Imelda Marcos, recalling how “Pampanga has been transformed into a commercial village. Mrs. Aquino and I had just passed through the concrete gates that used to be part of the air base, when white sand—or what looked like white sand, at least (or maybe it was Duterte’s dolomite? Bongbong’s dynamite?)—found its way to our windshield. It was actually lahar from the eruption of Mount Pinatubo, more than twenty years ago.”
picked up this book bc i met the author in cebu and was curious. was kinda confused at the start with the multiple strands of stories going on (thought there were two people talking, and it wasnt clear to me that this was epistolary until midway) but got sorted out eventually. interesting that the driver dude is high brow philosophical, it was giving mitch albom. was also interesting to be exposed to abit about filipino dictator history even though i am still very unclear about most of the references.
quick little read. great prose, lots of paragraphs that are so genuine, simple, but breathtaking. the discussion that Lito’s son’s readers may be taken for a ride, expecting something but receiving a very different thing, is a big metaphor. the themes !!
it’s something you have to sit with. i quite liked it, but it’s not about forgiveness, not really. sometimes you can’t be forgiven, and you have to be ok with that.
the twist shocked me ! generational trauma baby!!!!
“There are certain people in my life who have done me so much harm. And God knows I’ve done my share of terrible things in this world. Maybe forgiving others is just an acknowledgment that we see ourselves in them, that we, too, are capable of committing their crimes. I could be wrong, but forgiveness might just be a form of putting oneself in another person’s shoes.”
A challenging read probably best appreciated by those familiar with the actual history of the Philippines during the period Lito describes to his son. It's a love letter from father to child, an effort to explain decisions and life. It's tangled and complex, Thanks to Netgalley for the ARC. I DNF but that's on me not on Go who has written an impressive novel.
Great story about father/son relationships, forgiveness, and yes the politics of the Philippines. Very creatively constructed. As a reader, you are waiting for the big meeting of Imelda Marcos and Corazon Aquino. Spoiler alert... There is a sweetness in the father's telling of his upbringing (Aquino's chauffeur) to his estranged son in a series of letters. Very much enjoyed.
Not really my standard type of novel, but I picked up on a whim from the library and enjoyed it. I think the section in the mountains was a little lost on me, which was a shame because it felt like it was supposed to be the main inciting event that drives the actions of the narrator for the remainder of the book.
Overall an enjoyable read, I'd say a 3.5.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Nathan's deep intelligence shines through in this elegantly-written book. His eloquence and knowledge in both fiction and facts, and even his self-awareness being revealed through the characters -all woven into this sentimental story.