Philippine Literature is a diverse and rich group of works that has evolved side-

by-side with the countrys history. Literature had started with fables and legends
made by the ancient Filipinos long before the arrival of Spanish influence. The
main themes of Philippine literature focus on the countrys pre-colonial cultural
traditions and the socio-political histories of its colonial and contemporary
traditions.

It is not a secret that many Filipinos are unfamiliar with much of the
country's literary heritage, especially those that were written long before the
Spaniards arrived in our country. This is due to the fact that the stories of ancient
time were not written, but rather passed on from generation to generation
through word of mouth. Only during 1521 did the early Filipinos became
acquainted with literature due to the influence of the Spaniards on us. But the
literature that the Filipinos became acquainted with are not Philippine-made,
rather, they were works of Spanish authors.
So successful were the efforts of colonists to blot out the memory of the
country's largely oral past that present-day Filipino writers, artists and journalists
are trying to correct this inequity by recognizing the country's wealth of ethnic
traditions and disseminating them in schools through mass media.
The rise of nationalistic pride in the 1960s and 1970s also helped bring
about this change of attitude among a new breed of Filipinos concerned about the
"Filipino identity."
Philippine literature is written in Spanish, English, Tagalog, and/or other
native Philippine Languages.

Why do we need to study Philippine Literature?

Whatever nationality you are it is always very important to study the
literature of your country. In doing so you are not only learning about the
historical aspects of your land, but you are also keeping alive the thoughts, beliefs
and cultural variations of your ancestors that differentiate your country from the
rest of the world.
A country's literature also tells us about its civilization in a form other than
straight fact. Literature is usually one person's description of a situation told
through their own personal feelings; eyewitness testimony to historical
events that we were not present at. Writers have a talent for bringing the past
back to life with emotive language and metaphor, helping us to imagine
scenarios that may have happened decades, or even centuries, ago.


LITERATURE BY LANGUAGES
Cebuano literature
Hiligaynon literature
Ilokano literature
Tagalog literature
Waray literature
Philippine Poetry
Philippine Literature in English
Philippine Literature in Filipino
Philippine Literature in Spanish

NOTABLE PEOPLE
Jose Rizal
Marcelo H. Del Pilar
Carlos P. Romulo
Francisco Balagtas
Amado V. Hernandez
Carlos Bulosan
Teodoro M. Locsin
Claro M. Recto

NOTABLE WORKS
Noli Me Tangere
El Filibusterismo
Biag ni Lam-ang
Ibong Adarna
Florante at Laura
Doctrina Christiana




Doctrina Christiana Manila, 1593, is the first book printed in the Philippines by Fray Juan de Plasencia,
Jose Garcia Villa (5 August 1908 12 June 1997) is a Filipino poet and a National Artist for Literature.
He is known for introducing the "reversed consonance rime scheme," as well as for "comma poems" that
made full use of the punctuation mark in an innovative way. Villa is also a short story writer, critic, and
painter.

Background and education
Villa was born in Singalong, Manila on 5 August 1908. He is the son of Simeon Villa, who was Emilio
Aguinaldo's physician, and Guia Garcia. Villa went to the University of the Philippines High School. He
studied pre-medicine at the University of the Philippines but did not finish the course. He decided to take
pre-law, but did not finish it either. Instead, he devoted a good part of his college time writing short stories
and poems.
Career
In 1930, he won the Philippines Free Press literary contest for his short story entitled Mir-i-nisa and used
the prize money to go to the United States. He studied at the University of New Mexico, and later at
Columbia University. He taught poetry at the City College of New York from 1964 until 1973. He also
worked in the Philippine Mission to the United Nations from 1954 to 1963 and became the vice consul in
1965. After retiring in 1973, he continued to conduct poetry workshops in his apartment in Greenwich
Village, New York City.
As a writer
Villar used the pseudonym Doveglion for his literary works. He started out as a fictionist, with works
such as Footnote to Youth and Mir-i-nisa. In 1932, Untitled Story appeared in an anthology edited by
Edward J. O'Brien. A year later, Footnote to Youth was published by Charles Scribner's Sons. Some of
the pieces in "Footnote to Youth" were later included in Selected Stories, published in the Philippines by
Alberto Florentino.
His first collection of poetry, Have Come, Am Here, in which he introduced reversed consonance, was
published in the U.S. in 1942 to critical acclaim. He introduced his comma poems in another collection
called Volume Two, which was nominated for the Bollingen Prize in 1949. Other collections of Villa's
poems include Selected Poems and New," published in 1958, which gathers his works between 1937
and 1957; Poems 55," published in the Philippines by Alberto Florentino in 1962; and Appasionata:
Poems in Praise of Love," a collection of love poems published in 1979.
As a critic
One of Villa's significant contributions to Philippine fiction as a critic is his selection of the best Philippine
short stories in English which he called his Roll of Honor. These selections initially appeared in
the Philippines Herald, then in the Philippines Free Press, and later in Graphic. Inclusion in the list was
deemed an honor.
Villa also selected works for inclusion in The Best Poems of 1931, Fifteen Literary Landmarks,
Twenty-Five Best Stories of 1928, and The Doveglion Book of Philippine Poetry by Jose Garcia Villa.
Critical reception
Villa is considered a powerful literary influence in the Philippines. According to Asiaweek magazine, In a
world of English-language poetry dominated by British and Americans, Villa stood out for the ascetic
brilliance of his poetry and for his national origin.
He was dubbed by fellow Filipino writer Salvador Lopez the one Filipino writer today who it would be
futile to deride and impossible to ignore... the pace-setter for an entire generation of young writers, the
mentor laying down the law for the whole tribe, the patron saint of a cult of rebellious moderns. Mark Van
Doren wrote that Villa's works are ...So natural yet in its daring so weird, a poet rich and surprising, and
not to be ignored.
Awards and recognition
Villa received the American Academy of Arts and Letters Award for literature as well as the Shelley
Memorial Award. He is also a Guggenheim Prize Awardee and has received the Bollingen and
Rockefeller fellowships for poetry. In the Philippines, he received an honorable mention in the
Commonwealth Literary Awards for "Poems by Doveglion." He also received the first prize in the UP
Golden Jubilee Literary Contest of 1958 as well as an honorary doctorate of literature from Far Eastern
University in 1959. Villa is also the recipient of the Rizal Pro Patria Award, the Republic Cultural Heritage
Award for poetry and short story, and an honorary doctorate in literature from the University of the
Philippines. Villa was named National Artist for Literature on 12 June 1973.
Works
Footnote to Youth
Many Voices
Poems by Doveglion
Poems 55
Poems in Praise of Love: The Best Love Poems of Jose Garcia Villa
"Mir-i-nisa"
Personal life
Villa had two sons, Randy and Lance, with ex-wife, Rosemarie Lamb. He died at the age of 88 on 7
February 1997 in a New York hospital, two days after he was found unconscious in his apartment. In
accordance with his wishes, he was buried in a barong tagalog in St. John's Cemetery in New York on 10
February 1997.

Footnote to Youth
by: Jose Garcia Villa
The sun was salmon and hazy in the west. Dodong thought to himself he would tell his father
about Teang when he got home, after he had unhitched the carabao from the plow, and led it to its shed
and fed it. He was hesitant about saying it, he wanted his father to know what he had to say was of
serious importance as it would mark a climacteric in his life. Dodong finally decided to tell it, but a
thought came to him that his father might refuse to consider it. His father was a silent hardworking
farmer, who chewed areca nut, which he had learned to do from his mother, Dodongs grandmother.
He wished as he looked at her that he had a sister who could help his mother in the housework.
I will tell him. I will tell it to him.
The ground was broken up into many fresh wounds and fragrant with a sweetish earthy
smell. Many slender soft worm emerged from the further rows and then burrowed again deeper into
the soil. A short colorless worm marched blindly to Dodongs foot and crawled clammilu over it. Dodong
got tickled and jerked his foot, flinging the worm into the air. Dodong did not bother to look where into
the air, but thought of his age, seventeen, and he said to himself he was not young anymore.
Dodong unhitched the carabao leisurely and fave it a healthy tap on the hip. The beast turned its
head to look at him with dumb faithful eyes. Dodong gave it a slight push and the animal walked
alongside him to its shed. He placed bundles of grass before it and the carabao began to eat. Dodong
looked at it without interest.
Dodong started homeward thinking how he would break his news to his father. He wanted to
marry, Dodong did. He was seventeen, he had pimples on his face, then down on his upper lip was dark-
these meant he was no longer a boy. He was growing into a man he was a man. Dodong felt insolent
and big at the thought of it, although he was by nature low in stature.
Thinking himself man grown, Dodong felt he could do anything.
He walked faster, prodded by the thought of his virility. A small angled stone bled his foot, but
he dismissed it cursorily. He lifted his leg and looked at the hurt toe and then went on walking. In the
cool sundown, he thought wild young dreams of himself and Teang, his girl. She had a small brown face
and small black eyes and straight glossy hair.How desirable she was to him. She made him want to touch
her, to hold her. She made him dream even during the day.
Dodong tensed with desire and looked at the muscle of his arms. Dirty. This fieldwork was
healthy invigorating, but it begrimed you, smudged you terribly. He turned back the way he had come,
then marched obliquely to a creek.
Must you marry, Dodong?
Dodong resented his fathers question; his father himself had married early.
Dodong stripped himself and laid his clothes, a gray under shirt and red kundiman shorts, on the grass. Then
he went into the water, wet his body over and rubbed at it vigorously.He was not long in bathing, then he
marched homeward again. The bath made him feel cool.
It was dusk when he reached home. The petroleum lamp on the ceiling was already lighted and
the low unvarnished square table was set for supper. He and his parents sat down on the floor around
the table to eat. They had fried freshwater fish, and rice, but did not partake of the fruit. The bananas
were overripe and when one held the,, they felt more fluid than solid. Dodong broke off a piece of caked
sugar, dipped it in his glass of water and ate it. He got another piece and wanted some more, but he
thought of leaving the remainder for his parent.
Dodongs mother removed the dishes when they were through, and went with slow careful
steps and Dodong wanted to help her carry the dishes out. But he was tired and now, feld lazy. He
wished as he looked at her that he had a sister who could help his mother in the housework. He pitied
her, doing all the housework alone.
His father remained in the room, sucking a diseased tooth. It was paining him, again. Dodong
knew, Dodong had told him often and again to let the town dentist pull it out, but he was afraid, his
father was. He did not tell that to Dodong, but Dodong guessed it. Afterward, Dodong himself thought
that if he had a decayed tooth, he would be afraid to go to the dentist; he would not be any bolder than
his father.
Dodong said while his mother was out that he was going to marry Teang. There it was out, what
we had to say, and over which he head said it without any effort at all and without self-
consciousness. Dodong felt relived and looked at his father expectantly. A decresent moon outside shed
its feebled light into the window, graying the still black temples of his father. His father look old now.
I am going to marry Teang, Dodong said.
His father looked at him silently and stopped sucking the broken tooth, The silenece became
intense and cruel, and Dodong was uncomfortable and then became very angry because his father kept
looking at him without uttering anything.
I will marry Teang, Dodong repeated. I will marry Teang.
His father kept gazing at him in flexible silence and Dodong fidgeted on his seat.
I asked her last night to marry me and she said Yes. I want your permission I want
it There was an impatient clamor in his voice, an exacting protest at his coldness, this
indifference. Dodong looked at his father sourly. He cracked his knuckles one by one, and the little
sound it made broke dully the night stillness.
Must you marry, Dodong?
Dodong resented his fathers question; his father himself had married early.Dodong made a
quick impassioned essay in his mind about selfishness, but later, he got confused.
You are very young, Dodong.
Im seventeen.
Thats very young to get married at.
I I want to marry Teangs a good girl
Tell your mother, his father said.
You tell her, Tatay.
Dodong, you tell your Inay.
You tell her.
All right, Dodong.
All right, Dodong.
You will let me marry Teang?
Son, if that is your wish of course There was a strange helpless light in his fathers
eyes. Dodong did not read it. Too absorbed was he in himself.
Dodong was immensely glad he has asserted himself. He lost his resentment for his father, for a
while, he even felt sorry for him about the pain I his tooth. Then he confined his mind dreaming of
Teang and himself. Sweet young dreams
***
Dodong stood in the sweltering noon heat, sweating profusely so that his camisetawas
damp. He was still like a tree and his thoughts were confused. His mother had told him not to leave the
house, but he had left. He wanted to get out of it without clear reason at all.He was afraid, he felt afraid
of the house. It had seemingly caged him, to compress his thoughts with severe tyranny. He was also
afraid of Teang who was giving birth in the house; she face screams that chilled his blood. He did not
want her to scream like that. He began to wonder madly if the process of childbirth was really
painful. Some women, when they gave birth, did not cry.
In a few moments he would be a father. Father, father, he whispered the word with awe, with
strangeness. He was young, he realized now contradicting himself of nine months ago. He was very
young He felt queer, troubled, uncomfortable.
Dodong felt tired of standing. He sat down on a saw-horse with his feet close together. He
looked at his calloused toes. Then he thought, supposed he had ten children
The journey of thought came to a halt when he heard his mothers voice from the house.
Some how, he was ashamed to his mother of his youthful paternity. It made him feel guilty, as if
he had taken something not properly his.
Come up, Dodong. It is over.
Suddenly, he felt terribly embarrassed as he looked at her. Somehow, he was ashamed to his
mother of his youthful paternity. It made him feel guilty, as if he has taken something not properly
his. He dropped his eyes and pretended to dust off his kundimanshorts.
Dodong, his mother called again. Dodong.
He turned to look again and this time, he saw his father beside his mother.
It is a boy. His father said. He beckoned Dodong to come up.
Dodong felt more embarrassed and did not move. His parents eyes seemed to pierce through
him so he felt limp. He wanted to hide or even run away from them.
Dodong, you come up. You come up, his mother said.
Dodong did not want to come up. Hed rather stayed in the sun.
Dodong Dodong.
Ill come up.
Dodong traced the tremulous steps on the dry parched yard. He ascended the bamboo steps
slowly. His heart pounded mercilessly in him. Within, he avoided his parents eyes. He walked ahead of
them so that they should not see his face. He felt guilty and untru. He felt like crying. His eyes smarted
and his chest wanted to burst. He wanted to turn back, to go back to the yard. He wanted somebody to
punish him.
Son, his father said.
And his mother: Dodong..
How kind their voices were. They flowed into him, making him strong.
Teanf? Dodong said.
Shes sleeping. But you go in
His father led him into the small sawali room. Dodong saw Teang, his wife, asleep on the paper
with her soft black hair around her face. He did not want her to look that pale.
Dodong wanted to touch her, to push away that stray wisp of hair that touched her lips. But
again that feeling of embarrassment came over him, and before his parent, he did not want to be
demonstrative.
The hilot was wrapping the child Dodong heard him cry. The thin voice touched his heart. He
could not control the swelling of happiness in him.
You give him to me. You give him to me, Dodong said.
***
Blas was not Dodongs only child. Many more children came. For six successive years, a new
child came along. Dodong did not want any more children. But they came. It seemed that the coming of
children could not helped. Dodong got angry with himself sometimes.
Teang did not complain, but the bearing of children tolled on her. She was shapeless and thin
even if she was young. There was interminable work that kept her tied up. Cooking, laundering. The
house. The children. She cried sometimes, wishing she had no married. She did not tell Dodong this, not
wishing him to dislike her. Yet, she wished she had not married. Not even Dodong whom she
loved. There had neen another suitor, Lucio older than Dodong by nine years and that wasw why she
had chosen Dodong.Young Dodong who was only seventeen. Lucio had married another. Lucio, she
wondered, would she have born him children? Maybe not, either. That was a better lot. But she loved
Dodong in the moonlight, tired and querulous. He wanted to ask questions and somebody to answer
him. He wanted to be wise about many thins.
Life did not fulfill all of Youths dreams.
Why must be so? Why one was forsaken after love?
One of them was why life did not fulfill all of the youth dreams. Why it must be so. Why one
was forsaken after love.
Dodong could not find the answer. Maybe the question was not to be answered. It must be so
to make youth. Youth must be dreamfully sweet. Dreamfully sweet.
Dodong returned to the house, humiliated by himself. He had wanted to know little wisdom but
was denied it.
When Blas was eighteen, he came home one night, very flustered and happy.Dodong heard Blas
steps for he could not sleep well at night. He watched Blass undress in the dark and lie down softly. Blas
was restless on his mat and could not sleep. Dodong called his name and asked why he did not sleep.
You better go to sleep. It is late, Dodong said.
Life did not fulfill all of youths dreams. Why it must be so? Why one was forsaken after love?
Itay.. Blas called softly.
Dodong stirred and asked him what it was.
Im going to marry Tona. She accepted me tonight.
Itay, you think its over.
Dodong lay silent.
I loved Tona and I want her.
Dodong rose from his mat and told Blas to follow him. They descended to the yard where
everything was still and quiet.
The moonlight was cold and white.
You want to marry Tona, Dodong said, although he did not want Blas to marry yet. Blas was
very young. The life that would follow marriage would be hard
Yes.
Must you marry?
Blas voice was steeled with resentment. I will mary Tona.
You have objection, Itay? Blas asked acridly.
Son non But for Dodong, he do anything. Youth must triumph now. Afterward It will be
life.
As long ago, Youth and Love did triumph for Dodong and then life.
Dodong looked wistfully at his young son in the moonlight. He felt extremely sad and sorry for
him.