José Rizal´s El Filibusterismo is almost everything 14-year old me asked for. It is dark and full of terror with a hint of love story.

It follows the steps of an embittered Simoun, also known as the former Crisóstomo Ibarra. Gone is the clean cut and idealistic Ibarra and is replaced by the corrupt jeweler who wants everything and everyone around him to be as dark as his malevolent heart.

Young me could not blame him. If I lost my father and my perfect husband-to-be due to the vitriolic manoeuver of third and fourth parties, I would throw a hissy fit and three-quarters like Jack-Jack, give them the Cyclops stare, and Incredible Hulk-punch them to the ground. I do not condone violence, I just adore superheroes. Hahaha.

Going back to El Filibusterismo, I remember liking this more than its prequel, Noli Me Tangere. However, I also vividly remember that I did not remember the characters and usually confused one with the other. I had to go a few pages back just to refresh my memory. Basilio’s friends were my Achilles heel. Despite their differences in names and characteristics, I would mistake one for another.

In Noli Me Tangere, I had a fleeting confusion between Padre Sybila and Padre Salví. They are both friars whose names start with S. But I told myself to bear in mind that one follows Ibarra out of duty while the other one follows María Clara out of lecherousness.

I digress. Again. In order to stop this path of digression, I will write down what I remember 100 years ago:

– I supported Simoun’s shenanigans, and I badly wanted him to succeed to annihilate all the corrupt characters in the novel.

– I was desperate for the lamp to explode and end the cruelty and unjustness directed to the Filipinos.

– I was a believer of Basilio – poor boy who almost-made it. My heart broke twice for him – once in each novel. And I was devastated that he lost Julî.

– I loved Julî. I held her in high regard and placed her in the same level as Salomé.

– Julî’s and María Clara’s families and fates were the worst.

– I did not really care for the love triangle of Isagani, Paulita, and Juanito. 

– Simoun’s conversation with Padre Florentino was epic. I shook my head in agreement, in disagreement, then, in agreement, so much so that I looked like a bobblehead. It was profound, and my 14-year old self was moved.

– Simoun’s death was apt. It made me think that his come back was all planned out to the minutest detail.

– I adored Padre Florentino, but I was “whyyy???” when he flung Simoun’s chest of jewelry across the Pacific Ocean. I thought he could use it to build a school or home for orphans and old people.

– I thought that Padre Salví should die the slowest and most excruciating death. Now that I read it, I think I wanted him to suffer the Cruciatus Curse. What a lowlife.

– To this day, I still do not understand the theater performance (?) with heads.

– I really wanted an explosive ending, literally and figuratively. Although I did not get that, I learned that we were not ready for self-rule.