Desperar, despachar, dispensar, descansar.

Going into this book with zero expectations, so the multi-layered, multi-perspective narrative of love and war felt overwhelming and painstakingly slow at the start. However, what made it stand out was how deeply rooted it is in my own culture. By grounding Iraya in Bicolano identity, language, and experience, the author crafted a story that resonated with me profoundly (and that's why I love Pay Inyo, truly-truly). Yay for non-Manila-centrism 😆

While I am not well-versed in war literature, the dimensionality of the characters is what truly hooked me. No one is perfect-- every character acts based on their own ambitions for themselves and their community. Whether it is the communists' frustration with their town’s corruption, the misguided pride of Kiko’s angels, or Luke’s naivety in the face of betrayal, the struggles feel visceral. It is impossible not to empathize with them, especially with Mamay Dulce 🥹

What I truly appreciated was how the story centers Estrella’s voice rather than positioning Tony as a typical "white savior." He uses the conflict to validate his identity as a white man and reinforce his white privilege, which ultimately strips him of any heroic agency and leaves behind a legacy of abandonment. Because nothing is more frustrating than seeing a white man parade through a brown community only to label himself a hero 🙄😤

The story eventually unraveled from its complex web of politics and personal testimonies, making the ending incredibly rewarding. I intend to read it again soon to catch the details I missed at the start. I highly recommend this for readers familiar with Martial Law literature who are looking for a challenging and fantastical read ☺️