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How clothes make the revolution in Rizal’s ‘Noli’

When I posted the cover of this book on Facebook to acknowledge receipt from Ateneo de Naga University Press, thanks to Jason Chancoco, quick comments ranged from how interesting and intriguing to how eye-catching it appears. From Felice Prudente Sta Maria: “I love the front cover.”

Well, the cover and graphic design should be credited to Alex Figuracion, and the Illustrations to Raf Banzuela.

Jason, a Bikolano writer and educator based in Naga City, actually asked me first if I might consider reviewing this book for a prospective journal due later this year that would compile book reviews. I said yes, but upon early appreciation of what seemed to be an intimidating volume, now I can’t help but try to draw immediate attention to how an academic title can wrap a fabulous idea of cross-cultural significance in the elegant and well-tailored raiments of scholarship.

Seams of Sedition: Sartorial Symbols in Jose Rizal’s Noli Me Tangere traces complex and intricate paths of cerebral seduction in yet bringing up another meritorious accomplishment by our national hero as novelist.

Indeed, how fetching is the come-on title. Entirely equipped to flesh out concept and purpose is author Stephanie Marie R. Coo, whose previous book, Clothing the Colony: Nineteenth-Century Philippine Sartorial Culture, 1820-1896 (AdMU Press, 2019) won the National Book Award and a raft of international distinctions, including the IIAS-ICAS International Book Prize for Best Book in Humanities (1921) from a consortium of universities led by Leiden University, Netherlands.

A rare early copy of Noli Me Tangere, José Rizal's landmark novel.

In fact, the first pages ushering in this new book compile inestimable blurbs of recognition and adulation from various European academics and diplomats, the same with parallel Filipino stalwarts.

Sen. Loren Legarda, whose support together with the Philippine Embassy in Portugal ensured its publication, writes: “Seams of Sedition is a brilliant and necessary work that reimagines how we read Noli Me Tangere and how we understand our colonial past. By tracing the symbolism of clothing in Dr. Jose Rizal’s masterpiece, Coo offered a compelling lens into the entanglements of class, gender, identity, and resistance.”

Stephanie Marie R. Coo, author of Seams of Sedition: Sartorial Symbols in José Rizal's Noli Me Tangere.

To begin with, the author’s capsule descriptions of each of the Noli’s characters should be enough to desire a copy.

Coo constructs her assiduous presentation along the parameters of five chapters: “Charting the Course: Research Design and Cultural Relevance”; “Fanning the Flames: Status Dynamics in Social Rivalries”; “Tropical Whites and Imperial Twilights: Clothing and the Growing Foreign Presence”; “Plumes and Prejudice: Pretenders Riding High”; and “Style, Stratification, and Subterfuge.”

For readers more comfortable with narrative literary genres, there’s no reason to be turned off by what may first appear as high-mindedness that challenges intellectual acceptance. Nor the footnotes, which supply a formidable framework. Fascinating are particular sub-themes, such as the first chapter’s “Functions of Fictional Clothing.”

Young writers, take note: The author reminds literary readers that “There is a long-held tradition of using clothes to introduce, identify and distinguish characters in novels. … Rizal introduced the diverse Philippine personalities to his readers through meticulous depictions of the characters’ physical attributes, manner of speaking, clothing, and other such details. By doing this, he laboriously underscored the function of clothes in works of fiction.”

Earlier in this chapter, in “Satire and Society,” she stresses that “reading the Noli in its original Spanish… is imperative,” since translations such as Derbyshire’s tended to simplify details about attire, condensing the descriptions. His English version describes a character in “full dress,” while the original Spanish has him in “vestido de frac (literally dressed in frock coat…)” What Derbyshire consolidated as “native costume” for Doña Victorina, “Rizal enumerated in the original text as ‘la saya de seda y la camisa de piña’ (silk shirt and piña camisa).”

Then there is “Navigating the Book”—with the initial chapter establishing “the link between clothing, history, and literature, and lays out the research design and methodology.” The author evidently enjoys her playful ability to tease with such topical titles as “Bling and Bribery,” “The Volatile and the Vagrant,” “Sewing Sisa,” and “Revelry and Ruin.”

In Chapter Five, “the nuances of Rizal’s message become more apparent when analyzing the attires of the less prominent figures in his narrative”—as when he details Yeyeng’s “vestida de chula” and a “pañolon de seda” … These “highlight the wearer’s complex character (chula), the specific dress… and the chula’s characteristic adornment…”

Further explication: “To map out a comparative analysis of Spanish and English texts, I conceptualized and created two separate digital databases, allowing for a side-by-side comparison and the palpable sorting based on thematic categories.” Crystallized are two spheres: the “Outer World of Rizal” and the “Inner World of the Novel.” …

“While the novelist is responsible for creating literature, it is the historian’s task to explore a novel’s historical and in this case, sartorial aspects. … Examining Rizal’s letters and notes to better comprehend his social and cultural presumptions revealed that his sartorial selections were neither arbitrary nor superficial additions to enhance the Noli.”

Abiding by “interdisciplinary interpretations,” author Coo “uses scholars in various fields to further analyze the dynamics of Philippine society under Spain…,” writes Philippine Ambassador to Portugal Paul Raymund P. Cortes in his Foreword.

Another highly distinguished scholar, critic and fictionist, Caroline S. Hau, lauds it as “Exquisitely detailed and vibrantly argued.”

Affirms Patrick Flores, now chief curator of the National Gallery Singapore: “How does one address a myth, if not a master narrative? In this engaging book of cultural criticism, Stephanie Coo teases out the strands of textile from the texts of Jose Rizal with the curiosity and keenness of a sleuth and a scholar.”

Yes, exceptionally so. What doesn’t she do? Stephanie Marie R. Coo’s thinking, research and cross-cultural references, from Aristotle to Jose S. Arcilla, Nick Joaquin, etc., as well as her immaculate articulation, leave nothing to chance. This is no less than impassioned, masterful scholarship.