Okay.

I loved this book because it was the first book I’d read that weaved some form of a plot together and also weaved English and Tagalog throughout it. I felt privileged for the first time ever to know both languages and read it in this book. I adored the descriptions of the Philippines. Everything was so vivid - the heat and the smells, and the food and the fruit and the cigarettes - I felt like I was there in Manila in the suffocating heat with the characters.


Now. About everything else in this book? I HATED.

What the actual fuck was going on in this book? Yes I understand there’s a political plot, communism, Japanese blah blah, but the constant changing of narratives between the MANY characters had me SO confused. I trudged through the last 100 pages, skimming words and characters wondering when the last time I saw this character was and what relevance to the plot they had.

So. 2 stars.

Ignore the gorgeous writing for a second and call this book what it is - a plot confused, overly character littered book that doesn’t offer its reader any sort of solace in following a CLEAR narrative.

Did not enjoy.

Interesting 'fictional' overview of the political and social situation in the Philippines in the last 50 or so years. Well written with absorbing varied characters, who though are somewhat sterotypical are also believable. I think you could read it without being interested in the Philippines and still enjoy/admire it.

Often when reading post-colonial works there is a feeling that alternate realities are being described, dream states and counter-histories which have been suppressed or erased by the official history. Hagedorn performs such an archaeological procedure in her ferocious and volcanic work, Dogeaters, a text which systematically dismantles the ruthlessness and heartlessness of the Marcos regime, as well as indicting the American colonial presence which still lingers in the Philippines in the form of Hollywood films, American servicemen, and the long shadow of global capitalism and conspicuous consumption. Her heroes are the forgotten and marginalized members of a society—-the hustlers, the whores, the transvestites, and the guerrilla rebels who dare to resist the lies perpetrated by the First Lady and President and the military-economic power structure that support them.

03/2021

dnf at 75% because i don't understand what's going on. this book didn't feel like a story, but more like fragmented series of flash fics that didn't make an actual sense. i don't even understand what makes these characters related to each other at all. i admit that i only decided to read this because of my literature class but i legit had to drag myself to read every page until it just didn't do it for me. i had to stop.

This is Manila in the 80's. She paints it with vigor and magnanimous character that sometimes you get into the whirl. Who is Joey again? The guy who is poor and a whore. With so many woman in the book I like Daisy but I remember Lolita. You will read the escapades of the young and the old when the city is filled with dirty money and tricks. It beats up the police/military image and the obscene images of the bar in our streets makes you think twice if you want to invite your foreign friends here. You know red light districts still prevail. It talks about money on the family how it is pass to their descendants. The languages that binds us all are Spanish, English and Filipino, see we are all united in various colors. Jessica did not include the Chinese.

It positions Manila in one's mind so if you want a more realistic and old school view of Manila, this book is perfect for you. I recommended it for those who are not judgemental.

A fascinating collage of voices which sum to create an impression of Philippine life in the 50s and 60s. Violence abounds, of course, and the outsized influence of an American Eden (something I've noticed has persisted in Spain despite all evidence to the contrary), but the voices that really pull this story through are the stand-ins for Ferdinand and Imelda Marcos. Portraying their insistent blindness to wealth disparity and the indignancy with which they justified their lives will never get old - a more cynical take on the emperor's new clothes tale. Hagedorn layers real news articles and documentary transcripts over a fictional collaboration with a multiplicity of characters who fill in the cityscape she wants to portray. A city of people who just need to get by, find an edge, and survive longer though thriving is not in the conversation for most of them. It is a noirish landscape of desperation and at the top, the most successful takers are mere refractions of the city's underbelly.

This is a great novel and its style works really well to its ends. While I may have felt a bit overwhelmed at first, the prose is so polished that it was easy to work through the opening chapters and relax into the swirl of quick chapters which build a narrative out of thematic lines more than directly out of plot. Also fun to see Rainer Werner Fassbender show up as a character. For all I know of Filipino history he was there during the same pivotal moment of the novel, I'll have to look it up.

The novel made me curious to about the Philippines and I came away fascinated by this period of history with a feeling that I had experienced a lived portion of it. The prose and literary construction of this novel is masterful, though, so even without a starting interest in the subject matter Hagedorn's weaving of style and content and the conceits she came up with for this novel are fantastic and a pleasure to read.

Probably the most boring book I have ever read in my life. It also doesn't help that the book employs a post-modern feel that feels rather pretentious than literary for me.

Imagine all the manic elements that we throw out in class during our craft-a-story games, merging into a fierce, intelligent ensemble novel, equal parts political and sensual, set in late 1950s Manila. Male prostitutes! Beauty queens! Impotent politicians! Gay discos! Assassinations! Characters named Boomboom Alacran and Lolita Luna! What are you waiting for?

This is quite hard to rate, to be honest.

Our country belongs to women who easily shed tears and men who are ashamed to weep.

n  Dogeatersn is my first Jessica Hagedorn book, and it certainly won't be my last. This is the fourth novel that I've read that revolved around the Martial Law period (more suggestions, anyone?). Admittedly, though, this wasn't really the kind of book I was expecting to read when I started my odyssey to scavenge for novels related to the dictatorship. What I was hoping for is something that would provide a clear picture of what it really felt like to live in that period - the horrors it entailed, the hardships people encountered, and so on. You get the gist. I wanted to back up the fragments of stories I've heard from my parents and from other grown-ups. You might be thinking, if that's the case, then why don't I simply read some history textbooks? But I want to acquaint myself more with Philippine literature. At the same time, I also want to equip myself with more knowledge about my country's past, but without the burden of having to skim through thick academic textbooks. (Though I suppose I really ought to do that one of these days.) I can't say precisely what I'm looking for - perhaps drama? maybe some activism? more of the violence that happened before?

In my opinion, though, n  Dogeatersn would be better appreciated by people who are actually born during the Martial Law, or those who are pretty much familiar with the intricacies of what happened back then, not someone like me, one who's knowledge of the entire thing is horribly limited to what I've heard from people and learned in class. Don't get me wrong - it doesn't mean that I don't like this, I in fact do. It also doesn't mean that I'm saying this book fails to provide a glimpse of the life back then. It's just, I think, a different perspective of what transpired in the past, far from what one would normally expect, and I guess that's exactly what renders this text endearing.

So, despite everything, why do I like this?

It's a very, very ambitious piece. You have to admit that. It's like Hagedorn was drugged when this was written because of the quality of the writing; and also because of the mere fact that it's bustling with activity. It seems so mobile, so busy. I have to admire her courage for constructing something like this, something experimental and utterly complicated. It's hard enough to think of several subplots, and then there's the other dilemma of narrating all these snippets in varying voices and tones, depending on who's the focus of the story. It might seem like it's going nowhere, this kind of novel primarily composed of vignettes, but I believe it's just as challenging as a normal, conventional story. Here, one has to think of what to include, who to talk about, and why talk about them at all. And there's also the task of weaving all these pieces cohesively, so that later on it all comes together, into that single point of convergence. Everyone here is interrelated with the other characters, if you think about it. It's really impressive that way. (This almost reminds me of Arlene J. Chai's n  Eating Fire and Drinking Watern.)

However, this of course has its own drawbacks.

First, it can be confusing. It's so easy to get lost and ask yourself, "Wait, who's narrating now?" or "Who's this guy again?" because of the complex web of relationships and people. The reading experience is almost maddening and exhausting, because the reader has to try very hard to keep up with the constant rhythm and activity happening. One moment of interruption and voila! - you're left to wallow in bewilderment. Second, because it's composed of multiple stories, it's impossible for all of them to actually have some kind of conclusion in the end. Usually, Hagedorn would depart from a certain character's story just when a climactic scene emerges, leaving the readers hanging, leaving everything to our imaginations. I'm not so sure this makes me happy.  I certainly would have wanted more Joey or Daisy

I also wonder about the people she chose to include. Most of them belonged to the elite or the middle-class, echoing Hagedorn's own societal status and restricted experience. I really would have wanted to hear more from the masses. But then again, this was set at the bud of the dictatorship, so I don't think the activism/ demonstrations/ violence I had heard so much about would be so prevalent here. In a way, it's still nice because through the seemingly trivial scenarios she chose to dwell on, I think I was able to have a glimpse of the lives back then. (Although most of them were too mundane I was sometimes confused it could be so silent and peaceful and normal during that time.)

A couple of other things that I like: (1) the characterization, and (2) the writing. The writing, especially at the beginning, is just so gorgeous. I actually took a lot of notes of the phrases that sounded poetic or beautiful to me. However, to my disappointment, this didn't seem to last throughout the entire book; the writing seemingly diminishing a tiny bit on creativity as the novel progressed (but then again, this could be just me).

Pardon my incoherent review, but overall, I definitely recommend n  Dogeatersn. Every Filipino should read this! (Though I personally don't think it's a good idea to immediately do so for those who are just starting out in literature. Maybe after a few books.)

My Year-End (2012) and Year-Start (2013, of course) Read

First read: perplexing

Second read: still somehow perplexing

This book is filled with too many perplexing events! Too many perplexing people! Perplexing Hagedornish writing style! I had the difficulty of reading between the lines; of trying to understand what the author was trying to say. But perhaps that was because, as much as I love Historical Fiction, I don't know much about my country's (I'm Filipino, by the way) history - the heyday of The President and his First Lady/Madame/Iron Butterfly whichever this ma-arte woman prefers. Or was I just distracted by the Noche Buena - the dessert in the fridge (yum yum!) - or the noisy "Welcome 2013!" or the early class come-back (January 3!) and the compliance of requirement that followed?

BUT I liked it, nevertheless! I gave it four stars (really liked it)! I liked Jessica Hagedorn's ability of connecting seemingly disjointed events. By the way, when the first sign of this disjointedness commenced with the King of Coconuts, I thought: Really! So this is what I bought my precious 549 pesos with? -rubbish!. But along the way, she drew these people together - this people who are "a disparate group of characters" as what the back part of my paperback says.

I also liked Hagedorn's allusions. The President and his First Lady/Madame/Iron Butterfly for example. They're obviously you-know-who and Senator Avila! Senator Avila who was assassinated by unknown "hoodlums" with "many a bang-bang" because, simply because. Because he's a leftist. Hagedorn alludes to Senator Benigno Aquino who met the same fate probably because he was in opposition to the imposition of the Martial Law - Oh! History!

Except - this does not mean,however, that I abhorred it completely - from the snappy ending, I really liked this book! Hagedorn has presented a vivid Philippines. The country which is very perplexing. It's people in perplexity of their identity, of their origin. A country influenced by the West. In this canvas, she has drawn a vividly perplexing Philippines.

It was worth the reread.

Does this review perplex you too?

*My paperback is the one with the weird and again, perplexing, orange-colored cover. In fact, it was the cover that really intrigued me when I first discovered it in Goodreads last September 2011. But since THIS one came out when I typed the ISBN on the search bar, so be it! :D

Movies = assimilation and escape. Escape = paradise. Escapist paradise = a colonial construct.

What does assimilation/escape/paradise cost?
Answer: bodies. Commodified bodies: labor and sex.

Lots of layers to analyze. The author tells different, interconnected stories. Though the many vantage points, themes (:escape, commercialized bodies, power) fall into one another in violent cycles.

Set in Manila, Philippines, under the dictatorship of the Marcos administration, Jessica Hagedorn’s DOGEATERS explores the lives of the rich, the poor, and the depraved. By using bits and pieces of what’s considered *official* (newspapers, history books) and *unofficial* (gossip, celebrity talk shows) information, Jessica Hagedorn unpacks many heavy topics. How the Philippines is portrayed by its colonizers (Spanish & American) to justify colonization. The toxic aftereffects of colonization. How the media values fast news reports over thorough investigations. The role mainstreamed misinformation play in people’s lives, specifically for the outcasts, the people living in the margins. A large cast of characters, including movie actors, dancers, waiters, generals, and so many more, provide multiple perspectives into this ironic, satirical, and at times horrific, world.

Written in a nonlinear fashion, with alternating narratives, DOGEATERS mimics the structure and unreliability of memory. It does not really focus on character development (aside from Joey’s and Rio’s stories). There is no cohesive plot or resolution. The intention is for the reader to observe and get lost in this disorienting style of writing. Ironically, the characters also have a difficult time observing / being aware of their own situation. Since most of them aspire to be seen themselves, it’s a horrifying awakening when they’re finally able to see the oppressive reality they live in.

I know a lot of my fellow Filipinos have asked me, “Don’t you find the title to be repulsive?” Yes, at first—but I think Jessica Hagedorn chooses this title as an act of resistance. Colonizers originally portrayed us (Filipinos) ‘dogeaters’ to label us as savages, to justify their need to civilize us. To a colonizer, we are the ‘wild dogs.’ So, in their consumption of our culture and our resources, who’s really the dogeater?

It’s important to remember that the characters in this book are Filipinos who reside in Manila. This is not representative of Indigenous culture or provincial life. Overall, I recommend this book to anyone who’s willing to read this book with thoroughness and patience. I personally still don’t fully understand Jessica Hagedorn’s commentary on sex & gender and though I read this slowly, I’m probably going to have to reread this in the future to do so. DO NOT pick up this book: 1- if you don’t understand books you can’t identify with, 2- if you’re reading this and you think it’s only reinforcing negative stereotypes of Filipinos (stop surface reading), and 3- if you do not understand satire.