When one ponders the meaning of life, it inevitably begins with one’s own. If one has a strong autobiographical memory and deep reserves of courage, and is a writer to boot, the memories become a brave personal novel.

“Kites in the Night” (Ateneo de Manila University Press, Quezon City, 2022, 115 pages) is Blaise Campo Gacoscos’ own life retold as the story of Victor Molina—gay, in his 40s, a teacher living in Manila. Each of the eight chapters is a part of Victor’s life told in direct, unsentimental prose: his childhood in Ilocos Norte, his experience of love in adolescence, his first job as an entertainment reporter, the death of his mother, the return of his estranged father. (Were these episodes chosen to be relatable to the reader? Or are these inescapably the memories Filipinos turn to when making sense of their lives?) There’s vivid detail in each story, down to the clothes Victor wears and glimpses of his thoughts but hardly any mention of his feelings. From beginning to end, the emotion is left to our imagination.

Gacoscos, who won third prize at the Don Carlos Palanca Memorial Awards for his one-act play, “Taguan sa UIan,” started writing what would become “Kites in the Night” to complete his Master of Arts in Creative Writing at the University of the Philippines.

“I chose fiction because I wanted to create characters that would help me understand the meaning of life,” he states in his introduction to the collection.

A keen student of the Philippine short story in English, he’s chosen the National Artist N.V.M. Gonzalez’s style (in contrast to the Nick Joaquin school) of writing: “I stick to a language that is down-to-earth and evokes a kind of English that sounds Filipino.”

Powerful

He creates exactly the novel he envisioned. In “Kites in the Night,” both the bucolic childhood excursions and incidents of sexual awakening and predation are described simply and without comment by Victor Molina. The prose has enough detail to transport you into the story; the story is powerful enough to move you on its own. Gacoscos evokes joy, confusion and loneliness by simply describing kite flying at night, seeing two men kiss and a phone with no messages. Allowed to find meaning on our own, we find ourselves participating in the story, perhaps inscribing it in our own memory.

It is, however, a book that requires involvement—like deciding to really listen to someone you just met. It’s an unassuming but earnest work that shares almost embarrassingly intimate details. It doesn’t demand to be understood but gently, almost gratefully rewards you when you do.

In the closing chapter, Victor Molina remembers his mother’s words: “Accept whatever life would bring without asking any question.”

“Kites in the Night” is Gacoscos’ way of going beyond acceptance, to giving. It’s a generous and beautiful sharing of one’s life that enriches the reader’s own humanity. —CONTRIBUTED