Influence

I’m doing this to humor a friend, Roxanne, who suggested that I write reviews on books which have influenced me. I’m trying to recall those which did influence me, but I have no idea how to make a review. If you, o reader, be charitable, kindly teach me how to make one.

Books have a certain hold over me. I’m not really of the movie or the music type, and though I cannot claim to be the bookworm that other people would ascribe me to be, I do admit that books have had their way throughout my twenty-four years of accidental (read: freakish) existence.

The seventeen books I’ve listed here is in no way a bestseller’s list; most of these books never even reached your nearest National Bookstore branch. And yet, I must say, I’d willingly re-live my youth reading only them instead of having to scour the NB or Booksale shops for popular books that have nothing to give me except the satisfaction of having read what the rest of us have read… Nakikiuso ka?

By the way, I’m only listing them in alphabetical order, as I have no way of knowing how one book supersedes the other. After all, each work has a different impact on me, both subjectively and objectively.

48 Laws of Power (R. Greene & J. Elfers). Initially my father (and more notoriously, my mother) forbade their children to read this book. I could still remember that it was placed in the highest shelf when it was first bought, and how I had to reach for the book to be able to read it when both parents were away for work. It was worth the sneak. Though I was not really into the power-play strategies that the book was advocating, I did find 48 highly informative and entertaining, especially with how kings and kingmakers rose to power, and how suckers lost their status – and even their lives – because of their failure “to stay above the fray.” I found it a veritable supplement to my World History book. It was this book that forced me to calculate, and unfortunately, to be colder towards people. Bad influence? Nah.

A Beautiful Mind (S. Nasar). If you’re looking for the romance of a madman, then look for this one. This seems to be a classic tale of genius – of his extraordinary creativity and the ensuing madness – but it also chronicles a novel chapter in a genius’s life: recovery from the madness. This is not only the story of one man: indeed it is the story of the people around him struggling to understand that which cannot be understood.

Book of Dates. A gift from an aunt, the Book of Dates was supposed to be nothing more than what its title offered: a book of dates. Thanks to the illustrations of historical events and figures in it, I saw the world not only as a vast expanse of land and sea, but as the setting for both the cheerful and the bleak – wars, inventions, discoveries, and successions. This book preceded my World History.

Conspirators’ Hierarchy (J. Coleman). You can never expect what your Christian Living teacher can lend you once you’ve won her admiration for your penchant of the bizarre. I acquired this book from Ms. Lizette when I was in my third year in high school in photocopied form (I had to photocopy it again so as to have my own reproduction). The book details names, figures and events which the author claims to be part of an ongoing conspiracy to control the whole world. Unlikely allies, incredible tie-ins, and lots of money are the subject of this book, serving one and only goal: world domination. If you’re wondering where my paranoia comes from, it’s safe to blame this one.

Introduction to Christianity (J. Ratzinger). I’ve always been fascinated with all things Ratzinger since his election as Pope. I had naively wrote to him about contributing to our seminary newsletter when I was its editor, my two attempts at thesis writing for philosophy employed his first encyclical, and I had bought this book twice (I had given the first copy as a farewell gift to a rascal of a student of mine whom I think, deserves better in repute).

His Introduction, originally written in 1968, made me understand his theological bent, which was quite more enlightening than I had hoped from a man who spent most of his career writing books and battling heretics. His book took me to the crucial stages of early Christianity, which, contrary to the assertions of non-Catholic pastors, essentially had to deal not only with spiritual struggles but also social, cultural, and political changes as well. The Introduction made me realize that Christianity both as faith and religion can never be separated from the realities of the world, and that even the biblical figures were never isolated from the same chicaneries and machineries that the world.

In God’s Name (D. Yallop). Way back in 1999, when the world was going mad with Y2K paranoia and I had just entered my teenage years, my father bought me this book for 75 pesos from the Booksale station in SM Southmall (it was then located in front of the supermarket cashier lanes). The book was about a conspiracy (na naman?) of Masons, cardinals and bankers alike, to murder “the smiling Pope,” John Paul I, in order to prevent him from investigating on what was alleged to be a dirty money flow in and out of the Vatican, among others. This book altered my dreams of becoming a doctor. Ever since then, I wanted to become a priest, hoping that I’d end up wearing the smiling Pope’s shoes and ridding the Vatican of the bad guys. Though I gave up the book not too long ago, and though right now I’m unsure whether I would want to proceed with the priesthood, the book’s impact on me had remained.

Lipunan at Rebolusyong Pilipino. A friend let me photocopy this so that I didn’t have to borrow it again and again. Stylized as comics with a lot of narration and few, if any, speech bubbles, LRP was a beginner’s introduction to understanding the communist revolution in the Philippines. I take it that the LRP has Joma Sison’s imprimatur, as opposed to the bourgeois revisionist versions of Marx’s The Communist Manifesto sold by capitalist stores like NB. My God, what has that indoctrination done to me?

My Life as an Astronaut (A. Bean). The first significant book in my life. (No, it’s not the Bible.) Alan Bean, recounts for his child audiences his life as a Navy pilot and “sailor to the stars.” Before dreaming of becoming a doctor, I had wanted to be an astronaut, thanks to this man, who was the fourth man to walk on the moon (after Armstrong, Aldrin, and Conrad – ha! I still remember). It was also the first time I’ve read of the word “divorce.”

Stainless Longganisa (B. Ong). The mysterious writer only known as “Bob Ong” certainly caught up with my own desires as a writer with his enlightening and challenging chronicle of his life as a writer in Stainless Longganisa. With quips from famous authors and his own inspiring words as well, Bob Ong surely fired me up into continuing what seemed to be a hopeless pursuit of a dream. It’s been months since I’ve read this book, and though I’ve found true inspiration from friends who encourage me now and then, I guess I still owe Bob.

Sherlock Holmes (Arthur Conan Doyle). Four novelettes and 56 short stories tell the story of the greatest fictional detective ever. These chronicles of Holmes in the eyes of his sidekick, Dr. James Watson, more than enthralled me: it taught me logic way before I ever entered college. I can never be proud of what I’ve learned from self-study, but I was always delighted when Holmes would elucidate for his audiences, both in the story and the real ones, how he arrived at his conclusions. I was so into his character that I began calling myself “Sherlock” when I was in second year, a name I am still fondly called by those who knew me then.

The Bible through the Ages. Many people think that I know a lot about the Bible. Not so fast, chummy. My knowledge of the Bible, especially its history, came from this special publication by Reader’s Digest which I had borrowed from my grandparents and has not yet returned. Of course, nothing beats reading the Bible over and over again, but this book helped me understand eighty percent of the stuff in the Holy Writ. (The other twenty percent I learned from my “rabbi,” Fr. Gil.) This book also debunked for me the idea that the Bible was written verbatim by God.

The Cardinal Sins (A. Greeley). Fr. Greeley’s novel of the Church and the men and women who belong to it captivated me so much that I re-read it five times consequently. The sexual scenes were, ehem, part of the thrill, but what really bagged me was the realizations of the main characters at the end. “The Church is a saint and a whore.” At first impression, this could be insulting, but considering the struggles of the characters and the symbolism that they take up for the entire Church, I could say it’s worth saying it aloud.

The Domain of Being (C. Bittle). Mr. Acasio, my Logic, Ethics, Epistemology, and Metaphysics professor, is a hard man to please. And yet, for all his students’ unworthiness to learn from him he deigned to impart to us the secrets of the philosophy business. I find this book, which he required of us in metaphysics, to be a liberating book, as I was able to understand much of the mysteries of the faith through the concepts that Domain had. It also gave me my own philosophical bent, which strongly favored a revitalized metaphysics through the medium of love.

The Exorcist (W. P. Blatty). This horrifying tale of possession and redemption from the diabolic made me understand the complexity of good and evil in this world. The target of the devil is not the possessed, but those who are watching.

The Shoes of the Fisherman (M. West) Before there was the actual Slavic pope John Paul II, there was the fictional Slavic pope Kiril I, immortalized in the book (and later film) The Shoes of the Fisherman. This novel affirmed my conviction to serve the Catholic Church as a thinker when I was having doubts as to my priestly vocation. Through Kiril’s simple ripostes of love to the challenges which faced him, I realized that people were not that so hard to be with, and that they are worth suffering for.

The Three Musketeers (A. Dumas). D’Artagnan, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis make a good read in this swashbuckling epic. The pace of the story emphasizes the romanticism inherent even in war, where gallantry and valor outweigh victory and peace.

World History: Patterns of Civilization (B. F. Beers). One of the great influences in my life, this book led me to the path of love of history, a subject ridiculed and bemoaned for its many dates and names. Maybe ‘twas just the rebel in me trying to be different from the rest, or maybe it’s my fascination for a world that I can never explore by traveling: either way, I studied history, imagining through the book’s many photos, illustrations, and even graphs who did what, what happened when and where, and why and how did such happen. I did not need a time machine to visit the pharaohs, nor did I have to step into France to learn of her famous revolution. All I had to do was read.