From the award-winning author of Banana Heart Summer —“[a] wonderful debut…[that] resembles Sandra Cisneros’s The House on Mango Street and is destined to be a hit among book club members”*—comes a wondrous tale of hope, secrets, and family devotion.
It’s six days until Christmas, and on the bustling streets of Manila a mute ten-year-old boy sells his version of the exquisite lanterns handmade with colorful paper. But everything changes for young Noland when he witnesses an American tourist injured in a drive-by shooting of a journalist and imagines he’s seen an angel falling from the sky. When Noland whisks her to the safety of the hut he shares with his mother, the magical and the real shimmering lanterns and poverty, Christmas carols and loss, dreams of friendship and the global war on terror. While the story of the missing tourist grips the media, Noland and his mother care for their wounded guest, and a dark memory returns. But light sneaks in—and their lives are transformed by the power of love.
Merlinda Bobis is an award-winning contemporary Philippine-Australian writer who has had 4 novels, 6 poetry books and a collection of short stories published, and 10 dramatic works performed. For her, ‘Writing visits like grace. Its greatest gift is the comfort if not the joy of transformation. In an inspired moment, we almost believe that anguish can be made bearable and injustice can be overturned, because they can be named. And if we’re lucky, joy can even be multiplied a hundredfold, so we may have reserves in the cupboard for the lean times.’
Born in Tabaco in the Philippines province of Albay, Merlinda Bobis attended Bicol University High School then completed her B.A. at Aquinas University in Legazpi City. She holds post-graduate degrees from the University of Santo Tomas and University of Wollongong where she taught Creative Writing for 21 years. She now lives and writes on Ngunnawal land (Canberra, Australia).
Her literary awards include the 2016 Christina Stead Prize for Fiction NSW Premier's Literary Award for her novel 'Locust Girl. A Lovesong'; three Philippine National Books Awards (2016: 'Locust Girl', 2014: 'Fish-Hair Woman', 2000: 'White Turtle'); 2013 MUBA: 'Fish-Hair Woman'; 2000 Steele Rudd Award for the Best Published Collection of Australian Short Stories: 'White Turtle'; 2006 Philippine National Balagtas Award for her poetry and prose (in English, Filipino and Bikol); 1998 Prix Italia, 1998 Australian Writers' Guild Award and 1995 Ian Reed Radio Drama Prize for her play 'Rita's Lullaby'; three Carlos Palanca Memorial Awards in Literature Poetry Category (2016: Second prize, 1989: Second, 1987: First). Her poetry collection, 'Accidents of Composition' was Highly Commended for the 2018 ACT Book of the Year.
Wow. This book made my 2015 Christmas season memorable.
Prior to this book, I had read the author's first novel, Banana Heart Summer (3 stars), a memoir. So more or less, I was expecting this book to be similar to that: simple yet full of bittersweet memories of the author from her childhood days. Then, of course, the title and the cover of this book, The Solemn Lantern Maker are obviously saying that this is a book for Christmas. So, I was expecting this to be inspirational to put me in the right remember-the-celebrant mood for Christmas.
I was totally wrong. This book is neither simple nor religious.
This is spot-on intensely political and angsty. This shows the real Christmas in the Philippines especially to the majority of the population: the poor or to be politically correct, the financially-challenged Filipinos. This shows what the media is doing to our people and how the government protects itself from foreign governments especially the United States. This explores the psyche of the innocent poor children who at their young age, cannot easily tell facts from fiction. This asks the questions: What drives the poor people to commit crimes? When a crime is committed, we condemn the criminal but do we spend a few minutes to ask why? Are we afraid to know that we, directly or indirectly, have our share to push this criminal in committing the crime?
In this book, Bobis tells the story of a young mute boy, a lantern maker named Noland. He was 5 years old, when he witness the death of his father. To console him, his mother told him that from then on, the two of them would be guarded by angels. Living in one of Manila's slums, the ailing mother does laundry while the 9 year old Noland makes and sells parol along the busy streets in the city. One day he and his prostitute friend, Elvis witness a crime. Noland brings home one of the wounded, an American woman who he thinks is his guardian angel.
Nicey-nicey plot, isn't it? It's just that when the police starts to look for the American woman, everything gets dark and Bobis makes sure that you will hate the government for what they do to our helpless countrymen.
Very powerful novel. At the saying goes, don't judge the book by its cover.
this book ended the year-long reading slump i'd fallen into after my best friend passed away. since then, every time i'm in a library or café, reading or listening to music, i find myself watching children on the streets and wondering: are they nolands and elvises too? children whose dreams are crushed by the very societies they were not willingly born into?
i ached, and ached, and ached.
i hated myself for just reading and aching. because at the end of the day, my ache does not lessen theirs. of all the injustices this world has to offer, i think it's always the children who get the shortest end of the stick. we break their dreams, and yet expect them to be the future. how cruel is it to ask the young to change the world when they can barely make sense of themselves?
i started to wonder how i, as a reader and (dreaming to be a) writer, could help the nolands and elvises of this world. i've always believed in the power of words, always placed my faith in them—but words don’t stop the cruelties imposed on children. and i, too, am still a child. so, what then?
but maybe—maybe words alone aren't justice, but without them, how do we even begin to name what justice looks like?
nonetheless, i loved this book with all my heart. and i’ll treasure it forever and beyond.
Surprising is an understatement to describe The Solemn Lantern Maker because this novel is such a revelation.
TSLM follows ten-year-old Noland, a mute lantern maker, during Christmas time as he, along with his friend Elvis, try to make the most of the holiday season by selling his handmade lanterns. But a drive-by shooting of an investigative journalist changed their lives - is it for better or for worse?
Equally gorgeous and disconcerting, Merlinda Bobis crafted a realistic and still-relevant world with The Solemn Lantern Maker. I was surprised when I saw that this is originally published in 2008 because the events that happened in the book remain pertinent with the current socio-political landscape of the Philippines.
The novel started with a buoyant tone as Noland and Elvis, together with their adult friend Bobby Cool, navigated the busy intersection to sell lanterns while also painting Noland as this dreamy kid who is fascinated with angels and stars. But that opening is just a sneak peek to the bigger picture because what happened next unravelled to a series of revelation that highlighted Philippines’ actuality through the lens of Noland, Elvis, Nora, and Cate Burns.
There’s a lot to be said about this book but one thing that I’ll leave you with is that though TSLM tackles heavy themes, it will also give a different perspective with hints of hopefulness from the voices of Noland and Elvis.
If the synopsis and the humble title don't draw you in, then the very first chapter will. In fact, I think this chapter exemplifies the book as a whole. It is instantly endearing, the imagery is so warm and memorable, and there's just something really, truly special about Merlinda Bobis's prose that so elegantly leaps to life from the page and drags you back in. Truth be told, I had never heard of the author prior to seeing this book at National Bookstore; I can now safely say that I was right to take my chance with her. Despite the overflow of earnestness found in The Solemn Lantern Maker, however, unfortunately, there remain facets of the work that pull it down ever so slightly.
The first thing that immediately stands out is Bobis's wonderful prose. Her metaphors and descriptions as well as the characters' internal thoughts and monologues all give the story so much warmth and life and depth. Scenes are very vivid, descriptions delightfully melodic, and metaphors so childishly innocent. However, sometimes, chapters can also get blurred and bogged down by descriptions that get far too poetic and abstract for my taste. This makes it hard to follow certain scenes or even to determine whether they have proper action or movements, or are just brief glimpses into reflective metaphor or the characters' heads. Fortunately, these cases are just occasional, and are not to the greater plot's major detriment.
Something unique that I did find very compelling about the writing is its constant jumping between almost every character's perspective across each chapter. Throughout any given scene, for example, we will hear each character's internal thoughts, we will see things from their point of view, we will witness every silent sigh and scoff, before then seeing everything through another's lens, and so on. This, if anything, was what made it feel like I was WATCHING the scenes unfold, not merely reading them. I could see every breath and grunt, every anxious and turbulent mind. It's a frankly brilliant move on Bobis's part, one that only helps bring the wonderfully-written characters to so much life. Noland, from the very first page, is so endearing. Elvis, in every scene he's in, is a rascal (whose foul mouth actually made me laugh many times). Nena feels like such a real Filipina mother—a rough exterior whose sincere love for her son can make anyone melt with gentle warmth.
Be that as it may, a caveat is that, sometimes, the novel can jump around far too much. For a book scarcely 200 pages long, there's A LOT of characters and perspectives that we follow over its duration. While none stray from the main plot, I often wished we could have just stuck with a select few all throughout. Some characters and perspectives also felt like they only exist in the name of political commentary—to be able to highlight one issue or hypocrisy or another. For example, I feel the whole story would have remained just as poignant if 90% of the material on Senator GB had been cut; knowing his existence and potential self-interest in the matters at hand would have been enough. I respect the goal, but the heart of the story really lies in this solemn lantern maker. I wish it had all been about him.
In fact, another negative to the novel is the contrast between Noland's lively presence in the beginning versus the end. Early on, though he says no words, Noland brims with life thanks to his earnest sweetness and innocence. Over halfway through, however, he becomes a husk. Yes (spoilers), he does experience something beyond horrific in the midpoint, but his liveliness is just something the novel suffers without. It's emotionally heavy, but it did not feel like an inevitability.
Overall, what Bobis presents is a remarkable story with delightful characters that actually also manages to deliver harsh, mature themes on the politics of poverty. Everything is handled respectfully and tastefully. The plot itself is sweetfully tragic; I really wish it could have been executed as smoothly as the premise. Regardless, I clearly did not err in trying my first book by Merlinda Bobis. I am already planning my next purchase.
The Solemn Lantern Maker is a moving story that reveals the harsh realities of poverty in the Philippines, particularly during the Christmas season. Unlike typical holiday tales, it delves into themes of hope, survival, and injustice. The writing is beautiful, and though I initially found the third-person perspective challenging, the story quickly became captivating and suspenseful. The bond between Noland and his mother was especially saddening, with moments that truly broke my heart.
The book offers a raw and compassionate portrayal of street children and marginalized communities, shedding light on issues like poverty and exploitation. It changed how I view street kids, leaving me with a deeper appreciation for their quiet resilience. Selected as Akdang Pinoy’s Book of the Month last December, I’m glad I finally took the time to read it. Though the themes are heavy and may not be for everyone, the story’s emotional depth and powerful message make it an unforgettable read.
let me just say that only a woman whose first language isn’t english could ever write a story as profound and beautifully constructed as this. every single fucking sentence was absolute POETRY DO U REALIZE HOW MAGICAL YOUR MIND HAS TO BE TO ACHIEVE THAT LEVEL OF WRITING like gusto ko lang malaman ang thought process niya at kung paano napagdidikit-dikit at napagtutugma-tugma ni ma’am merlinda ang mga salita para makabuo ng GANITO KAGANDANG FUCKING MASTERPIECE OF A WRITING
merlinda was angry, but that was true of most loving women anyway. oh she was an angry woman! but rightfully so, because for someone who loved her country to the point of it seeping out through her works, well, she had all the rights to be. and i share that rage with her. i share it with her even before i opened this book, shared it with her as i read it, and still share it now as i write this. i am angry because this story is real. it exists, even in some forgotten part of the world. i think of the far future, and for a hopeful woman like me, even i find it so hopeless. i am angry because i burn yet feel so little. what can i do? i cannot change the world, not even in the way noland or elvis or nena has changed mine.
it’s so easy to pin the blame on the poor. easier to look away and claim it’s just part of your job. because at the end of the day, whether you feel a pang of shame or a stab of guilt in your heart, you get to sleep in a mattress and go on with your long years ahead. you will forget about it. it will not eat you. while their lives have ended, yours will continue. they can try to move elsewhere, in manila maybe—the one city fueled by different parts of the nation—where abundance only exists in the context of sweat and dreams and nothing more. they will work, forget about the contentment that lingers in their province. they will start anew, never mind the scars nor the broken bones nor the halted voices. anything to move forward. because after all, how will they ever survive at a standstill? while you walk about the halls of your workplace and continue the job that sustains your family but put an end to theirs. if you feel a little extra tenderhearted, perhaps even a whirl of guilt will rush through you, reminding you of what you did or whatever you could’ve done but did not do. and if you’re lucky, you might even feel a sense of satisfaction. because the guilt only shows that you care. that you are still good. and so you will snap out of it, try to focus on putting food on the table, and your life will go on. there is no happy ending, but you will have yours.
do you understand? do you see how unfair that is? we are taught to be realistic, to not believe in happy endings. but the truth is, it might just be real. happy endings may exist, but very rarely are they ever for the poor. do you see now?
do you still feel okay even as the words “i’m neutral about it” falls out of your mouth? mabuti ka’t kaya mong magsalita. gamitin mo nang tama.
“be frugal where life is fragile. tears are an imposition here.” i wish this country wings.
As a Filipino-American, I thought this book was an honest account of the way things are in the country. Things are rough, things are depressing. The media circus is worse there than in the US.
The parols, the star lanterns, are mainly for the Christmas season. So it's appropriate that the book would end when it did. True, it was depressing, and definitely abrupt. But I think it's to point out that no one ever gets the full story - not in the media and not among each other.
Even in "breaking news" in the US, you rarely get to finish out the entire story. Someone does something bad, they're either caught or they're not, they go to trail, the verdict is given. But what about that persons family? What happens in jail? What happens when they leave jail? What sequence of events lead up to that person doing that bad/wrong thing?
If you're ready for how things really are, you can handle the underlying theme of the book. If you think things are all flowers and rainbows and unicorn burps, then you'll have a hard time swallowing this book.
It was alright. I mean, some of it was good, some of it I liked, but it was just boring. And a lot of it seemed like the author was trying too hard to sound clever, which ruined the book. I don't like the ending because there were things that I don't think were wrapped up well. I'm not sure if this is worth three stars, but... we'll see how I feel later.
“Empty sky. Fallen angel on the ground. Fallen angel ascending. Sky with shining star.” – 51, December 22
I still remember visiting the Anvil Booth at the Manila International Book Fair, where I had a wonderful conversation with the amazing Page, who recommended this book to me. I immediately purchased it and promised myself that I would read it during the holiday season. When the right time came, I finished reading the book, and it was beautifully written. Sitting on my living room couch during the festive season, I found the experience surprisingly heavy yet captivating, as the words of the novel drew me in completely. The author written a novel that feels both grounded and otherworldly. It’s like stepping into a dream where hope and hardship co-exist, and it’s impossible to look away.
“The Solemn Lantern Maker” by Merlinda Bobis is a heart-tugging, thought-provoking novel that hits you in the most unexpected ways. Set in the streets of Manila just days before Christmas, we follow Noland, a mute ten-year-old boy who makes and sells stunning handmade lanterns. His quiet life gets flipped upside down when he witnesses a shooting involving a foreign tourist. What makes this book powerful is how it intertwines real struggles of poverty, violence, and political tension and with moments of hope and magic. In the chaos of the streets, Noland clings to his dreams, finding beauty in his lanterns, the stars, and his devotion to the foreign tourist which he believes is an angel. At its core, the book is about connection… how Noland and his mom care for each other and the mysterious woman, and how light, symbolized by the lanterns, can guide and heal, even in the darkest times. It’s an emotional journey that shows how small acts of kindness and love can have a huge impact in a world that often feels broken. Like Noland, I too have my own share of trauma from my childhood to teenage years growing up in Sampaloc, Manila. The streets, the noise, the violence, and the poverty shaped me into someone who always acts with kindness. Amidst the chaos around us, the best thing we can do is be kinder to ourselves and to those around us. “The Solemn Lantern Maker” is powerful piece on the resilience of the human spirit, the bonds of family, and the ability to find light in even the darkest of times. It’s emotional, powerful, and raw. This novel is a must-read.
What a sad Christmas read! But there is also beauty in sadness, especially when it is aimed at shaking us out of our European slumber.
In 2009 I met Merlinda Bobis in a small town in the Spanish Pyrenees, she was a keynote speaker at a conference on trauma and memory. Immediately after hearing her I bought this book and ever since I've been waiting for the perfect moment to read it until now, December 2023.
Noland and his mom, Nena, live their simple lives in utter poverty in a slum in Manila. Noland makes a living by selling his hand-made Christmas parols at the intersection, while Nena does the washing for a richer woman who lives on the other side of the highway. But they keep a terrible secret which has materialized into a different disability in each of their cases. Something horrible triggers the current events and these two characters together with an American woman, a pimp and his minor sex worker, a journalist and many more are drawn into a chain of interpersonal, political and magical events that will forever stay imprinted onto the readers' hearts.
It's a hard read that makes you empathize in extremis not only with the Filipino situation but also with all these fictional characters whose lives are as much impossible as plausible. Can't wait to read the next book I have stacked on my shelves, Fish Hair Woman.
I encountered this book at NBS last November, but my current budget did not allow me to buy it. I was so happy to finally find another book written by Merlinda Bobis. I’ve been a fan of her writing ever since I read a passage from her book Banana Hearts Summer when I was still a high school student. I told myself I would buy the book before Christmas, seeing that the story revolves around the celebration.
Up until now, I am still incapable of finding a word to fully describe this book. I can only say that it left me completely shattered. Despite being considered under the genre “fiction,” everything this book portrays is a reality in the Philippines.
Corruption. Child trafficking. Poverty.
I found myself questioning how hope, love, and friendship continue to thrive in such a state. But perhaps, because these exist, there is a need for ‘these’ to define our being human.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
“There is no room for another time. The hut is too small even for the present. Life must be squeezed to pocket size, breath must be kept spare, so there’s enough left for the next day, so the walls hold up. Be frugal where life is fragile. Tears are an imposition here.”
“When a story is told, there’s nothing much to do. The air does it for us, replenishes our lungs because we’ve lost so much in the telling, but even this air is thick with story. It feeds us back what we’ve just told, so it’s difficult to breathe...”
Been a fan of Merlinda Bobis’ works. She has a special way of telling the lives of innocent filipino children who experience misery in their own little worlds. And in this one, The Solemn Lantern Maker, one will learn how Christmas is different for each person, some spend them lavishly spending money while others wait for a glimmer of hope in the slums.
this wasn’t the jolly christmas book i hoped it would be..... instead, it presents a reflection on injustice, reminding us that as long as there are victims of these injustices in our country, true joy and peace cannot fully exist
A heart-touching story of a slum-dweller who gets a visit by a white fairy/trouble. The story explores the notion of child sexual abuse in very implicit language.
I thought this was a poorly written book and that the cover description and such are misleading to what the book is about. Miracles? Really? It was depressing and the ending was abrupt and badly done. I'm not saying that I have to always have a happy ending or that these things don't happen, but it could have been written better. I would not recommend this book. I have never written a review but I felt this one needed a review.
I love serendipitous finds like this book. Browsing the Random House booth at NCTE where they were giving away three free books to teachers on opening day of the conference, I pick this up. It satisfied three criteria - (1) cover appeal, (2) a seasonal message and (3) a jacket blurb that piqued my curiosity - "It's six days until Christmas, and on the bustling streets of Manila a mute ten-year-old boys sells his version of the stars." Magical and riveting book.
Heartbreaking, to say the least. But I have yet to find the right words to describe this hollow feeling and my concrete thoughts after reading this entire novella. One thing is for sure though... Dr. Bobis knows how to stir the heartstrings in the most unsettling way.
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Reading this the second time around does not ease the sorrow I felt for the child characters the first time I read it. But the last chapter of the novel somehow gives a different kind of grief, and a different kind of hope.
For some strange reason, I thought this was a children's book. It's not. That would be a terrible mistake; only a very mature, clear-eyed child should read it. Very good; beautifully written; heart-rending subject matter.