Like the true athlete that I was,
Okay, he he he, I’m not really an athlete,
or at least I haven’t been in a long long time but…
During the stellar event that was the Manila International Book Fair last month, I was suddenly Serena WIlliams before a big game.
Right smack in the middle of the SMX Convention Center the size of three football fields, filled to the brim with bookworms like myself, I managed to execute the complete set of stretches reserved only for the elite in the world of sports:
runner’s lunge with side stretch
sitting hamstring stretch
triceps stretch
pigeon pose
chest opener stretch
runner’s lunge with quad stretch
twisted arm stretch
downward dog
upward dog
leg over or “iron cross” stretch
Never mind that people were throwing me dirty looks as one of my arms would fling to the air and slap a unassuming cheek or my knee would accidentally end up smashing into someone else’s body part…
I wasn’t paying attention to the “ouch!” and “watch out!” and “crazy!” and even “bruha!” and the subsequent groans and moans as I perfunctorily performed my warm-up.
I was dead set on winning the bacon that day. My tunnel vision narrowed to a single goal: score as many half priced books as humanly possible!
The popular book blogger, Blooey Singson, caught up with me in the crowd and noticed my game face. “Whatever you do,” she warned, “and you look like you’re going to wipe this place out, DO NOT touch All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr”.
Blooey said the book will instead be a gift from the book lovers club to me.
I hadn’t heard of the title before…All the Light We Cannot See. But an image of Jakarta’s once sparkling skyline now shrouded in grey dust instantly flashed through my mind.
“Waaaah, a book about air pollution, perfect!” I screamed excitedly.
But of course, All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr is not really about pollution. Or is it?
A story about a blind French girl Marie-Laure and an orphaned German boy Werner with “an expertise in building and fixing radios” whose paths collide in occupied France during the worst of times of World War II.
Doerr won the 2015 Pulitzer Prize for Fiction for this book. Do get a copy if you, like me, will soon be on a long plane ride or a not-so-hectic winter holiday ahead (with a side trip to Saint-Malo in freezing December yah).
The book is by no means a page turner like say, a Jonathan Kellerman whodunit (my guilty pleasure) or for sci-fi junkies, a Neil Gaiman fantasia.
It is often tedious to read too! And the profusion of iffy historical morsels were like road humps to an otherwise smooth narrative. But to me Doerr’s genius is that a few lines into the book, I already wondered how an American writer can be so… makata (poetic). He he he.
Granted some of the prose were so syrupy I only needed to slap a warm pancake on it, but still, to be gifted with musings like “All your life you wait, and then it finally comes, and are you ready?”, what more can we fussy finicky dweebs ask for?
So, why All the light we cannot see? What does the title mean? According to Anthony Doerr himself (via anthonydoerr.com where else?),
“It’s a reference first and foremost to all the light we literally cannot see: that is, the wavelengths of the electromagnetic spectrum that are beyond the ability of human eyes to detect (radio waves, of course, being the most relevant). It’s also a metaphorical suggestion that there are countless invisible stories still buried within World War II — that stories of ordinary children, for example, are a kind of light we do not typically see. Ultimately, the title is intended as a suggestion that we spend too much time focused on only a small slice of the spectrum of possibility.”
While Doerr’s focal object in the story is the radio, a weapon of mass indoctrination (today it’s called You Tube), the fact that the French girl was made blind in the midst of a bloody struggle for power is testament to how deep the author wanted to take his symbolism of light. Perhaps the blind girl saw more than those who refused to see…
Light = a natural agent that stimulates sight
Light = the absence of ignorance
If we take a quick peek at the social media posts of some of the most dedicated climate activists in the world :
We will recognize the same themes of struggle, exploitation, greed and lots of darkness. No wonder exasperated environmentalists liken the climate war to a “world war” in scope and consequence.
But perhaps, these same themes can also be a springboard for hope?
The burning of peatlands in Indonesia, for example, is not only legit, it is intricately woven into their culture. Filipinos follow the exact same practice. It’s almost like a sacred ritual to ensure a bountiful planting season.
Climatologist Anthony Lucero of the country’s Climate Monitoring and Prediction Section, could only protest, “But times are different, things have changed!” It’s no longer what it used to be. People who for years burned forests unscathed, did not expect a very strong El Niño this year which brought dry spells and droughts in equatorial countries including Indonesia. Climate change drove the El Niño heat to scorching levels.
3,000 acres of man made hell. How much carbon dioxide and methane are being let loose into our atmosphere, our collective breathing space?
The haze brought by the fires in Indonesia, as we now know, pervaded neighboring countries like Singapore, Malaysia and the Philippines. In southern Philippines, two cases of deaths were attributed to the blanket of grey dust hovering over the entire island for days.
Us versus nature, nature versus us.
When there is darkness, light
Light = that which makes things visible, known
Light = goodness, purity, divine
The climate warrior Pope Francis chose his name after St. Francis of Assisi because the beloved saint was “the man of poverty, the man of peace, the man who loves and protects creation.”
It is no surprise then that many of us seek comfort in the most enlightening of prayers, The Prayer of St. Francis. I have met people of all faiths, including mystics, who invoke with this prayer.
Make me an instrument of your peace,
When there is darkness, light.
How much of the darkness we encounter continue to overwhelm us?
While searching the web for reports about the Indonesia haze, I chanced upon this:
Apparently as forests in Indonesia are set ablaze, in other parts of the world it is their women who bear the wrath of fire, even for the pettiest of things.
It still astounds me how stories such as this– bride and acid burnings in Pakistan and elsewhere, can still provoke long stashed away memories of my own encounters with darkness.
I was barely out of school and interning at a TV network on a graveyard shift. One day at close to midnight, a co-worker who had been pestering me for weeks decided he was actually Superman and attacked me while I was going up the stairs to our office on the 2nd floor. The lone guard at the empty building was quick to respond, and for that, I only had gashes in my wrists and arms which healed in weeks.
Years later, I got a call from producers from my former network. They asked if I could share my experience in a documentary they were putting together. I said no and quickly hung up.
It used to be that I couldn’t admit even to myself how much the incident affected me. There is still so much stigma in society for being weak, careless or worse, both at the exact same time.
While all my physical wounds disappeared quickly, some fears persevered. I remember telling my father that I would rather jump off the San Juanico bridge than go out with a fellow journalist, editor, writer or God forbid someone who is within 250 mile radius from my workstation. Dad had that sad look in his eyes that betrayed his hurt over what happened but nodded, that would be for the best. He was right.
While wallowing in darkness, we hold on to, even the fringes of illumination because who knows…
How do I know I know I know? I used to pester my father with such philosophical gibberish, just when he’s dozing off or watching the best part of the game on ESPN.
He would groan and smother his face with a pillow like his wisdom tooth was being forcibly yanked out, but would have no choice but to answer anyway, You’ll know.
P.S.
The Paris Climate Summit will happen this November 30 to December 11.
Will there be a legally-binding agreement? Yes.
UN Climate Chief Christiana Figueres’ “The World is Ready for Change” manifesto is heartfelt and enchanting.
But do hear what folks like former climate envoy Yeb Saño has to say as well:
He told me in a phone interview:
“You want my fearless forecast? I think based on what I’m seeing, it’s going to be a mere political declaration. Parang lip service ika nga (It will just be like paying lip service). We don’t see a comprehensive, ambitious and strong agreement.”
It’s only weeks before the most hyped up event and I’m getting tons of e-mails and messages from young activists that only six months ago couldn’t even tell the difference between ‘climate’ and ‘weather’ (they’re not the same by the way) but are so stoked with all the media attention the Paris Climate Conference is getting and all want in.
One group is leading a climate movement in their home town, another group already had a couple of dialogues with law makers on renewable energy. A young bright boy wanted to know if we could possibly make this long term. I answered, absolutely, if you guys are still interested after the pyrodynamics in Paris fades away.
After Paris, there will be ten, twenty more years of heavy plodding through the vast geopolitical marshland, but where will we be?
I’m glad the kids who reach out to me say they were inspired by climate activists who came before us and paved the way for us.
Before, it was dark as pitch. But with unbridled courage and grit from these men and women who braved bloodshed and lawsuits and did a whole lot of hustling, light couldn’t help but trickle in. That’s why Paris is no longer just a possibility, but a reality.
Ultimately, however, it would still be up to us. Are we really blind or simply refuse to see? Are we still looking the other way or are all set to meet the challenges head on?
We owe it to ourselves and to the next generation to take a stand, to remain true to what is right and hopefully, like our heroes before us, inspire the rest of the world to see more and more of the light.
Cheers!
One of my reports on the haze crisis for ABS-CBN news.