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Copy of Copy of scent of apples
Transcript of Copy of Copy of scent of apples
-He was born and raised in Tondo, Manila.
- He received his Bachelor of Arts degree from the University of the Philippines where he first studied creative writing under Paz Marquez Benitez.
- In 1941, Santos was a government pensionado (scholar) to the United States at the University of Illinois, Columbia University, and Harvard University.
-During World War II, he served with the Philippine government in exile under President Manuel L. Quezon in Washington, D.C., together with the playwright Severino Montano and Philippine National Artist Jose Garcia Villa.
Scent of Apples
BIENVENIDO N. SANTOS
-Mr. Santos received honorary doctorate degrees in Humanities and Letters from the University of the Philippines, and Bicol University (Legazpi City, Albay) in 1981.
-He was also a Professor of Creative Writing and Distinguished Writer in Residence at the Wichita State University from 1973 to 1982, at which time the University awarded him an honorary doctorate degree in Humane Letters.
-After his retirement, Santos became Visiting Writer and Artist at De La Salle University in Manila; the University honored Santos by renaming its Creative Writing Center after him.
A Filipino-American fictionist, poet and nonfiction writer
Filipino Young Man (the narrator)
-who went to Kalamazoo, America for conference, wherein he had answered questions about Filipino and American Women.
-also the author who plays a role in the story.
-a Filipino Farmer who lives in America together
with his family
-He was the one who asked about the Filipino
- He invited the Filipino young man to his home
-remembered his long lost youth
-slight old and very brown
-wearing old brown tweed jacket and worsted
- a fat blonde woman
-shapeless waist and rough hands
- country girl
- wife of Celestino Fabia
- took care of Celestino when he was sick even though she was pregnant.
- son of Celestino and Ruth
- nice, innocent, little son
-admired the Filipino young man (First class Filipino)
The story happened in Kalamazoo and it was on October.
The main setting was in Fabia's place, wherein Celestino invited the Filipino young man to come by and eat dinner.
Unlocking of Difficult Words
And they seem so far away during
those terrible years that I must have
spoken of them with a little fervor, a
External: Man VS. Society
Internal: Man VS. Himself
the fear of no longer
belonging to a culture
- The Volcano (1965)
- Villa Magdalena (1965)
- The Praying Man (1982)
- The Man Who (Thought He) Looked Like Robert Taylor
- What the Hell for You Left Your Heart in San Francisco?
Short Story Collection
- You Lovely People (1955) Brother, My Brother (1960)
- The Day the Dancers Came (1967, 1991)
- Scent of Apples (1979)
- Dwell in the Wilderness (1985)
- The Old Favorites
- The Wounded Stag (1956,1992)
- Distances: In Time (1983)
- "March of Death"
- Music for One
- Memory's Fictions: A Personal History (1993)
- Postscript to a Saintly Life (1994)
- Selected Letters: Book 1 (1995)
- Selected Letters: Book 2 (1996)
pleasure and sadness that
is caused by remembering
something from the past
and wishing that you could
experience it again.
...I could only
speak about with
-not clear in meaning: stated in a way that is general and not specific.
-not thinking or expressing
thoughts clearly or precisely
The man was visibly moved.
"I'm very happy, sir," he said,
in the manner of one who,
having stakes on the land, had
found no cause to regret
one's sentimental investment.
something (such as
money) that you could
win or lose in a game,
The trip seemed
having or seeming
to have no end: continuing for a very
I did not want to tell a lie yet
I did not want to say anything
that would seem platitudinous,
a statement that expresses
an idea that is not new.
Exposition: When I arrived in Kalamazoo it was October and war was still on. It was a cold night when I left my room at the hotel for a usual speaking engagement. It was the same night I met Celestino Fabia, "just a Filipino farmer" as he called himself, who had a farm about thirty miles east of Kalamazoo. Early that night I addressed a college crowd, mostly women. It appeared they wanted me to talk about my country, they wanted me to tell them things about it. In the open forum that followed, the audience wanted to know whether there was much difference between our women and the American women. While I was trying to explain away the fact that it was not easy to make comparisons, a man rose from the rear of the hall. "I'm a Filipino, I left the Philippines more than twenty years ago, and have never been back. Never will perhaps. I want to find out, sir, are our Filipino women the same like they were twenty years ago?"
Complication: After the lecture, Mr. Fabia told Mr. Santos about his farm and his family and invited him over to his house, repeatedly saying that his wife, Ruth, will be pleased to meet "a first class Filipino". He told him about his son, Roger
Falling Action: They finally arrived in the farm, the fragrance of apples diffusing all over the place, Mr. Santos noticed how Ruth's hospitality and kind-heartedness was almost Filipino and how adorable Roger really was. In their humble home, he also found a picture of anonymous Filipina wearing a traditional costume.
Resolution: He said farewell to the family and Mr. Fabia took him back to the hotel. He offered to send news to his family when he got back to the Philippines but Mr. Fabia refused, saying that might have already forgotten him. They shook each other's hand and said goodbye.
Scent of Apples
-exile, loneliness, isolation and nostalgia
-preservation of Filipino
To be an immigrant is to live amongst the "
scent of apples
". Something not as present in the homeland, yet strangely reminding of it.
The idea of home is not a place where he was born and grew up, but where he is at present.
1. The walls are bare.
2. ...it was yellow and soiled with fingertips. The faded figure of a woman in Philippine dress could yet be distinguished although the face had become a blur.
3. The streets are narrow and dirty strewn with the coral shells.
4. Leafy plants grew on the sides.
1. It was cold night when I left my room at the hotel for a usual speaking engagement.
2. There was a wild, ineffectual sun shining, and it was not too cold.
1. There are smell chicken roosting on low-tapped walls.
Room at the Hotel
1. A dog barked loudly as we approached.
2. As we stepped inside and the door closed behind us, immediately I was aware of the familiar scent of apples.
2. The dog started barking. We could hear it some time, until finally, we could hear it anymore.
3. The roosting chicken on the low-tapped walls.
Figures of Speech
1. And they rolled the pavements like the ghost feet of a thousand autumns long dead...
2. Mother sitting in her chair, looking like a pale ghost in the corner of a room.
3. Roger ate like a little gentleman.
4. They didn't have enough money and Ruth was willing to work like a slave.
1. "Those trees are beautiful on the hills." I said.
1. "Autumns a lovely season, the trees are getting ready to die, and they show their colors, proud-like."
2. Even the lovely season could not color it with beauty.
3. It was twilight now and the apple trees stood bare against a glowing western sky.
1. ...you grope your way up massive staircase, the bannisters smooth upon the trembling hand.
2. I would remember the great live posts, massive tree trunks from the forests.