000			01892nam a2200277Ia 4500
001			322668
003			0000000000
005			20210120101943.0
008			160929n 000 0 eng d
020			_a9789715427975
040			_erda
050			_aPL 6063.C13 _b.C598 2016
100			_aCleto, Luna Sicat. _944064
245		0	_aTypewriter altar / _cLuna Sicat Cleto
245		0	_c translated from the Filipino edition by Marne L. Kilates.
264			_aDiliman, Quezon City : _bThe University of the Philippines Press, _cc2016.
300			_axii, 135 pages : _billustrations _c23 cm.
336			_atext _2rdacontent
337			_aunmediated _2rdamedia
338			_avolume _2rdacarrier
520			_aTypewriter Altar is a story of the power of recollection, re-membrance, and redemption. It begins with the narrator's recurring dream. Books with wordless pages are strewn everywhere in an empty, old house wherein a mood of abandonment reigns. In the dream, Laya thinks she can hear her parents' voices, but silence would follow as soon as she attempts to trace these sounds. Always, she would wake up, and the emptiness of that house and those pages seem accusatory. We find out that Laya has abandoned her pen, and her dream of writing, because she opted to pursue domestic bliss. Ironically that dream is also unrealized -- Laya, like many Filipinas of her age and class, does not have her own home, has a humdrum job, and secretly wishes her soul could wander somewhere else. This insight leads Laya into remembering her childhood home and her parents' early years in marriage. In the work, memory bleeds into the then and the now, ushering the reader into a ringside glimpse of an artist's life.
650			_aPhilippine fiction (English)
700			_aKilates, Marne L. _940302
942			_cFIL
999			_c18154 _d18154