Compiled by Terence Repelente Cirilo F. Bautista, National Artist for Literature (2014) and multi-awarded poet, fictionist, and essayist, passed away at 76. Bautista was a co-founder of the Philippine Literary Arts Council (PLAC) and a member of the Manila Critics Circle, the Philippine Center of International PEN, and the Philippine Writers Academy. He was instrumental in the founding of the Baguio Writers Group in Northern Luzon, the IYAS Creative Writing Workshop in the Visayas, and the Iligan National Writer’s Workshop in Mindanao. He was a longtime columnist and literary editor of the Manila Bulletin’s Sunday magazine Philippine Panorama. He was also a mentor to numerous students from St. Louis University, the University of Sto. Tomas, and De La Salle University. His poetry has inspired generations of young and contemporary writers. His friends, students, mentees, colleagues, readers, family, and the entire nation mourn his passing. To be honest, I had a hard time understanding Cirilo Bautista’s poetry, so I could not finish reading his first epics. It was only when I got hold of a copy of his recent poems that I began to appreciate the kind of poetic talent he possessed. He was using the epic form. His English epics were his greatest achievement, but I’m more inclined to think that his writing in Filipino/Tagalog has been able to reach a wider variety of readers. If he had written the epics in Filipino, perhaps I, and whole lot of readers, would be able to appreciate it more. Cirilo was a very kind and amusing person. He had a mild personality that attracted people to read him with sheer interest and understanding.  —National Artist for Literature Bienvenido Lumbera “I know he had some doubts about his writing in borrowed tongue. I told him I knew how he felt because I had that feeling as well. But we have Filipinized this foreign language since we have been using it since we were young. It’s not the best time for me to say this, but I will say it just the same: Some artists do not deserve the national artist award, the highest form of recognition of this country for its artists. But of course, you deserve this award because one, in your works, there is profound rootedness in our own soil, and two, you have this very, very deep affection for our country. Though he was a cosmopolite, he always returned to this country to celebrate its people, to elevate the people in the dung brought about by war, corruption, and misery. Maraming salamat, Cirilo, at paalam, mahal na kaibigan (Thank you, Cirilo, and goodbye, dear friend).” —National Artist F Sionil Jose I first met Sir Cirilo Bautista in 2003, when I became a fellow of the UST Writers’ Workshop. He was very encouraging, even though the story I submitted was not well-received by the teaching panel. Since then, whenever our paths would cross, he would greet me by my first name (he knew that I was named after Chuck Berry, the father of rock ‘n’ roll), and ask about my writing. Sir Cirilo is best known as a poet—yes, I have tried to read The Trilogy of Saint Lazarus—but his work that is closest to my heart is his novel, Galaw ng Asoge. —Chuckberry Pascual I’m sorry I only met you on the page, Sir Cirilo. Your link to Baguio and to the other regions also moved me. You imagined that the parts of the whole were just as important as whatever that whole was. Thank you. Mabuhay po kayo at salamat sa imahinasyong inialay ninyo sa bayan! —Nash Tysmans Long before the Centennial Literary Prize in 1998, Cirilo Bautista was one of the pioneers in writing modern-day epic. His literary genius had been popularized by Panorama when he used to be one of its columnists. He was instrumental in encouraging young writers.  —Vim Nadera We went on beach outings together for fun and frolic. We conducted workshops right by the sea, when we served us panelists for Siliman University in Dumaguete. Through all those early years, the warmth of Toti’s person underscored his authenticity as a committed, creative artist. Young poets meeting him for the first time would be intimidated by his customary serious mind and his stance on everything under the sun. He was initially reproachful and unbending, but it was all but part of his character that was steeped in discipline. He expected the same from everyone. Under that tough exterior was a man of unfailing good humor and great generosity. —Krip Yuson Cirilo was a very generous friend. He was a great poet. A country is only as strong as our people’s memory. And that’s what Cirilo’s work was all about—our people’s memory. —Gemino Abad When Felix Fojas and I were still working in the ad industry maybe during the late ’90s or mid-2000, and Cirilo Bautista was still teaching at La Salle, Felix would ring me up to say that we would be going out for lunch with Cirilo. That would be in one of the Chinese restaurants at the second or third floor of the Makati Cinema Square. Our lunch was always rich with literary trivia and other “non-serious” topics. We would have beer with lunch and it would stretch usually the whole afternoon. Cirilo’s visits, which I always looked forward to, happened at least three times. His Order of the National Artist award speaks for itself. It’s the nation’s highest honor for any man of the arts. He is, right now, the best Filipino poet who wrote in English. Each and all of his books are his greatest contributions to Philippine literature. —Marne Kilates My fondest memory of Cirilo Bautista was my interview with the National Artist. I don’t do long interviews. For me, 20 minutes are all it takes to get my story. With Toti, the interview went so great that we spent the whole afternoon, five hours if memory serves me right. It was a conversation on life and literature, which I will cherish for the rest of my life. His biggest contribution to literature: the strong influence he wielded on young writers like me. If you’ve noticed, most of the tribute given him after his death revolved around how he influenced the writing and thoughts of several generations of Filipino writers. I, for one, am strongly influenced by his essays. The world of Philippine literature would not be the same without him.” —Joel Pablo Salud Cirilo F. was the literary editor in Panorama, when I was only a newbie staff writer. I was always speechless whenever I saw him. I was a shy writer and kept my distance when I submitted to him my poems for the Iligan workshop. One day he said I was one of five writers from Luzon chosen for the workshop, and I could not believe he chose me. I was ecstatic. Later he would be my Literature professor at DLSU and adviser for my dissertation, Talinghaga ng Gana: Ang Banal sa mga Piling Tagalog ng Ika-20 Siglo. He let me be on my own and told me to come back when I had the full draft. I thought he was taking a risk by giving me too much independence to write what I wanted. He proved, however, to be my toughest, most exacting panelist in the actual defense, and he asked me questions I should expect from everyone. The study was awarded Gold by the university and the National Book Award for Literary Criticism later. But beyond the recognition for my own work, I honor him for such unequivocal respect and confidence he showed me as a student. I am moved by the greatness of his soul and the expanse of his mind as an artist—imperfect and cranky and charming and deeply generous, in a quiet way. His poetry takes the reader to the unfamiliar, and to the familiar, with unapologetic stabs. And then in a most surprising lyrical turn, he takes me to the woods, and I meet Rose Marie, model of refinement, taste, and integrity, to whom he dedicates his books. Their home is ours, too. We are so grateful for a most loving man. —Rebecca T. Añonuevo One of the early gifts he gave me was when he published a poem of mine in the Panorama, of which he was literary editor. That was all it took to encourage young writers like me to keep trying. So I dropped out of the PhD Literature program of DLSU and enrolled in the Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing. It was a wrong academic career move, but it was the best change of direction I’ve ever made in my life. In the MFA program, I was fortunate to be in Cirilo’s Poetry class. There I met a very different teacher, nurturing and kind, even as he was strict with poetic conventions and technique. It was through him that I learned to treat poetry not as a precious gift but as a thing that required work through language, not emotion.  —Jhoanna Lynn B. Cruz I met Sir Cirilo Bautista a handful of times but each time was an occasion. He did the keynote address for an IWPA (International Writing Program Alumni Workshop) and his address was a beautiful rendering of his time in Iowa as a new father, a young writer, and as a future gatekeeper of Filipino poetry in English. The other time was when he invited my husband Sarge and me to his place two Decembers ago—we met with his La Salle family there (some of whom are my own La Salle family), and we talked shop for a couple of hours, and lingered and left far earlier than we wanted to. He was just that kind of presence—you wanted to be around him, to learn from him not just as a person but as a human being. —Mookie Katigbak-Lacuesta My favorite memory of Cirilo is quite recent: a couple of years ago, he gave a speech in the form of a terrific account of his experience at the Iowa International Writers’ Program when he was a fellow way back in 1969. It was rambling, nostalgic, funny, heartbreaking—and I immediately wanted to publish it in Esquire. I approached him right after his speech to ask for a copy, and he handed it to me, completely handwritten, back to back, on five or six sheets of pad paper. Luckily I had my wits about me and I asked him to sign it and dedicate it to me. As I transcribed it later, I found myself laughing and crying again, and thinking, boy, this old man can really write! —Sarge Lacuesta My fondest memory of Cirilo Bautista is having to have known him on an intimate basis as both a poet and a friend since we were both members of the Philippine Literary Arts Council and co-professors at De La Salle University. I am very fortunate to have known a poetic genius who was also an accomplished painter. I particularly enjoyed our book-hunting escapades and poetry reading sessions together. His greatest contribution to Philippine literature is in the genre of poetry, especially of the epic variety in English. Of course, Bautista’s short stories and essays on a wide spectrum of subjects are likewise exemplary. —Felix Fojas As a writer, I can describe Cirilo F. Bautista as a double-edged sword because of his virtuosity as a man of letters both in English and Filipino. The poetic roughness of his poems in Filipino is what I always envy (aspire to achieve in my poetry, too) the most, it is almost like reading combined Ginsberg and Baudelaire on a paper. His Ang Pagsulat ng Tula ay Isang Gawaing Sosyolohikal is a staple reading in my Creative Writing classes. “Breaking Signs,” his weekly column in Panorama, besides his book of poems and prose, for me, was his greatest contribution to Philippine literature. —MJ Rafal Telex Moon was awesome—the title alone was intriguing—but the fact that it was but one part of a trilogy of epics was breathtaking. Cirilo Bautista's work was a glimpse into what was possible for poetry when experimentation was coupled with ambition, it was bound to be formative for anybody who encountered it in high school and college as I did.   —Angelo V Suarez