New Historical and Cultural Criticism Nardo Takes a Wife by Socorro Federis-Tate

New Historical and Cultural Criticism    

Nardo Takes a Wife by Socorro Federis-Tate             

Roland Raymond A. Roldan    LIT230   Prado     Ateneo de Naga University

Socorro Federis-Tate’s  “Nardo Takes a Wife,” written in 1955, almost a decade after the Second World War,  is a worthwhile artifact  that  tells us  about the interplay of discourses, as well as the web of social meanings, that were operating in the time and place in which the story was written. The human “lens” through which the reader is viewing the historical issues discussed in the short story, though clouded with personal bias, makes him aware of the influences of the times, so that a clearer picture would emerge, despite his own psychological and ideological positions.

With its subject being the pamamanhikan or the custom in asking a girl’s hand in marriage, a controversial discourse even during that time, the inevitable clash of “Spanish tradition” and “American peace time” in a time when either European or stateside sensibilities seeking dominance in postwar culture could either be scandalous or brave, depending on what side of the fence one sits on.  After all, such discourses and sensibilities are part of a social language created by particular cultural conditions at a particular time and place, expressing how human experience is understood in particular ways.

The start of the story describes a very traditional way a pamamanhikan, complete with cheap cigars, glasses of tuba and chewed buyo. The parents are doing most of the talking, while the future bride and groom remaining silent and at times uncomfortable. Tiong Berto, Nardo’s father, made a speech about his son’s being a “butterfly…flitted from flower to flower…and how he has rested on someone who he thinks is the best.”

Tiong Tacio replies that Lita is their only child, and added that they have drained their pocketbook in order to send her to a good school. “She is the most intelligent in the whole neighborhood,” he said. “Several young men have asked me for her hand in marriage, but somehow something always went awry. Perhaps it is better that way.”

Tiong Tacio’s last remark, which drew quite a reaction from Nardo and Lita—the former an amused gleam, from the latter a blush—gives the reader an idea how the previous wedding proposals were handled, and at the same time giving notice that the two lovers are aware what is to be proposed by Tiong Tacio:  a hefty price for the hand of Lita, their daughter. This tradition that has been invoked supposedly gives power to the soon-to-be bride’s father to “transact” an “exchange,” as expected in a culture where marriage is a “business.”

Nardo and Lita’s dialogue at the kitchen reveals more about the old traditions that Tiong Tacio espouses: she has no say in how the wedding will be done. She is embarrassed about how stiff her father’s price will be charged to Nardo’s family. Nardo says to Lita not to worry, and that his parents can afford it.

He then asks Lita what she wants for the wedding. This could be viewed as in opposition to the tradition that her father espouses, a different perspective, wherein the bride has a say to her own wedding. She replies, “Privacy. Simplicity. Quiet and serenity.”

As Lita lay down to sleep, Nardo and his parents walked home, letting his parents walk ahead while he leisurely followed. “He picked up a stick and absently slashed at the ferns and low shrubbery which fringed the path.” This line seem to foreshadow his decision later, which is to ask Lita to forego all that their parents discussed and elope with him.

A soliloquy goes on in Nardo’s head, first an evaluation of his palay-filled land, then a mathematical gymnastic to arrive at a figure more than what his future father-in-law asked. Certainly he could afford the asked amount, but he figured that such tradition is not his to follow, his principles will not allow it, and that he has his own preference for his own wedding—similar to one of his cousins.

The problem finally brought him to a solution. It was then when he thought of the elopement. His personal identity, being tested by such a dilemma of whether to follow tradition or not, has finally emerged, shaped by the culture that has tested him. To traditional Filipino pre-war tradition, such a decision is a travesty and dishonor; but for the new postwar breed that he is part of, elopement seem practical and sound.

As Lois Tyson would put it, ones individual identity consists of the stories he tells to himself about himself, drawing material for his own story from the circulation of discourses that constitutes the culture he lives in. His time is that of liberation, reminiscent of what happened after the Americans won the War, and granted his country the independence it wanted for so long. His personal convictions reflected that of the time he is in, a redefining of what is more honorable, a wedding that their parents wanted or what he and Lita actually wanted?   His decision, which would be to ask Lita to elope with him, becomes a fundamental principle from where he will build his family.

“Conventions would be defied,” Nardo mused, “and the ancients would feel cheated and outraged. So what?”