Much ado over a P27-M book
The first editions of Jose Rizal’s ”Noli Me Tangere” (1887) and ”El Filibusterismo” (1891) are not mere historical artifacts. Central to the canon of Philippine literature, the novels are said to have inspired the Philippine Revolution and have played an important part in the emergence of the Filipino nation. If and when a copy comes into the market, it can sell for seven figures due to its historical and sentimental value. When an autographed copy comes along, the selling price goes up even more. To my knowledge, only three signed copies have emerged in the past 25 years.
Last year, a first edition Noli Me Tangere inscribed by the author to his friend T. H. Pardo de Tavera broke auction records by selling for P25.3 million. That record was surpassed by the companion volume, El Filibusterismo, also inscribed by Rizal to De Tavera, last Valentine’s Day at Leon Gallery in Makati. The hammer price of P21 million, plus a buyer’s premium of P6,333,600, totals P27,333,600—that’s way more than I could humanly count with all my fingers and toes.
While one shouldn’t place a monetary value on a property with cultural or historical importance, appraisals are given, at least for insurance purposes. Many well-meaning people commented on social media that such a treasure should be the patrimony of the nation, available to all, and not hidden away in some private collection. Others asked why the National Museum did not bid for these treasures. The proper cultural agency for books is not the National Museum but the National Library of the Philippines, which does not have the budget to acquire rare books or manuscripts at this price level. Our National Library doesn’t need this P27-million book because it has multiple copies of the same title in the Filipiniana Rare Book Section—at least three copies of the first edition of the Noli alone.
Those who complain about the commercialization of history and the inaccessibility of these books are advised to visit the National Library and see them for free. Have they even set foot in the National Library?
The National Library has more priceless treasures in the original, handwritten manuscripts of the Noli and Fili. The former is a large manuscript measuring 22 x 36 centimeters (cm), with 468 leaves of text. On the cover is the original design drawn by Rizal on cardboard. When I first encountered this over 40 years ago, it was kept in a beautiful narra case that was locked up in the vault of the library. Rizal wrote on thick paper, ruled with light blue lines that do not appear in offset reprints, giving the wrong impression that Rizal’s penmanship was very straight and disciplined. This manuscript is the clean copy sent to the printing press for typesetting. It is unfortunate that various preliminary drafts were written in different countries, over a period of time, but these, as well as the proofs, are no longer extant.
Some people make the mistake of dating the Noli to 1886, due to the inscription below the dedication, “Europa 1886,” but on the last page of the manuscript, Rizal gives the exact time, date, and place on which he finished the novel: “Berlin 21 de Febrero 1887 11 ½ Noche. Lunes.” [Berlin Feb. 21, 1887 at 11.30 p.m., Monday]. Tucked inside the manuscript is one of Rizal’s calling cards from the time he practiced medicine in Hong Kong. The address is “Rednaxela Terrace” and on the reverse is written: “had tenía-tenían-había.” Rizal apparently reused some of these calling cards as flash cards at his school in Dapitan, 1892-1896.
On the other hand, the Fili manuscript measures 23 x 36 cm, with 283 leaves of handwritten text, whose many additions, deletions, and transpositions are a reflection of his creative process. Glued on the left page of the manuscript, facing the title page, is the famous studio photograph of Rizal taken in Madrid by Enrique Debas in 1890. Due to budget constraints, Rizal was unable to publish the novel with his likeness; he also deleted 30 percent of the manuscript from the printed book.
Compared to the Noli, the cover of the Fili manuscript is blank. Contrary to popular belief, the Fili cover does not show the image of the three priests, Mariano Gomes, Jose Burgos, and Jacinto Zamora—that always appear on the covers of later editions of the Fili. This image of Gomburza was added when the manuscripts were first made available by offset reprint in 1957, by Roberto Martinez and Sons. Since then, offset reprints have been continuously reprinted by the National Historical Commission with the Gomburza cover.
Open Monday to Friday from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., the National Library’s permanent exhibition of rare books and manuscripts is free to the public, including the extremely rare 1734 Velarde-Bagay-Suarez map of the Philippines, samples of early Philippine printing from the 17th century, Rizal’s manuscripts and drawings, a copy of the reformist paper La Solidaridad, the 1898 Declaration of Philippine Independence, and much more. These priceless books and manuscripts show how the nation was formed and give us a sense of being Filipino.
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Comments are welcome at ambeth.ocampo@inquirer.net
