An outstanding literary debut by playwright Han Ong, Fixer Chao manages to be a brilliant satire of the excesses of elitist Manhattanites in the late An outstanding literary debut by playwright Han Ong, Fixer Chao manages to be a brilliant satire of the excesses of elitist Manhattanites in the late 90s, while at the same time managing to be a riveting portrait of a failed American dream. Darkly funny and at times very touching, this novel delves into many themes and is a roller coaster of a ride for both us and our protagonist
William Narcisco Paulinha is a simple, humble man, an immigrant for whom the American Dream has fallen terribly short. Smarter than his circumstances would indicate, William is a thoughtful man, one who would rather devalue himself than others, a mind-set completely opposite of the cut-throat world of Manhattan in which he lives. These days, he types manuscripts for aspiring writers, a much better job than his previous outing as a hustler turning tricks in the Port Authority bus terminal. Lonely and frustrated, William is above all a man who wants to do good, and he is on the verge of turning his life around when a fateful meeting takes place.
One night, at a seedy bar William frequents, he meets Shem, an abrasive, bitter man recently thrown out of his home by his wife, the daughter of a famous novelist. Shem is a social climber (though not terribly good at it), a struggling novelist and a relatively unsuccessful author of celebrity profiles. Having never quite fit into Manhattan’s elite, Shem has a plan, a way to exact revenge upon those who see themselves better, smarter and more talented than poor old Shem. Knowing the lemming like quality of the city’s upper crust, Shem knows exactly where to hit them, right in their own naiveté. His targets have all the right clothing, the perfect cars, the buzz-inducing interior designers, but most of all they have the desire–no, the absolute need–to be at the forefront of the latest trends, every hot “new thing.” Shem has everything he needs to succeed, everything except the Chinese man who can pull it all off.
Shem propositions William to take part and become William Chao, a Feng Shui expert from the mysterious East. Shem explains that all William need do is learn a little about the ancient art and ingratiate himself to the elitists to whom Shem will introduce him. From there, it is simple…enter into their homes and do exactly what they want. Arrange their homes to capture the chi, make their living spaces a conduit for successes even beyond their own imaginations. And when he has won their trust, when their lives are on the upswing because of Master Chao’s remarkable gift, pull the rug out from under them by doing one thing wrong. Leave out one simple aspect–a mirror is the wrong place, a bed facing an open doorway–something small that will cause their lives to unravel.
William agrees and embarks upon an adventure that works perfectly as he–no, his alter ego, the Fixer Chao–is lauded and rises to the level of celebrity, the man who can make everything right, the Master whose ancient art can only improve one’s life. But just as William becomes enamored with his new persona, with his life amongst the well-to-dos, and starts believing that he does have the “gift,” Shem reminds him that it is time to turn the tables. A deal is a deal after all.
Slowly, Fixer Chao weaves subtle mistakes into his work, things no one–especially those who truly know nothing about so mysterious and alluring an art–will notice. And lives begin to unravel. Is it because Master Chao has the power, or is it simply the upper crust’s own foibles leading to their downfall? Even William is not quite sure. But just when everything is working perfectly, William meets Kendo, the moody, sexy, appealing son of one of Fixer Chao’s most famous clients. And when Kendo catches on to William’s real identity and the game he is playing, more than just Kendo’s mother’s life begins to fall apart.
For me, Fixer Chao was a book I just didn’t want to see end. Ong’s style is seamless, his words deftly drawing not only a caricature of the time, but a rich life into which one is absorbed. He balances the opulence and excesses of the high-life in Manhattan with the dreary reality of William’s real life, and in the process creates two completely opposite worlds co-existing in the same space. The character of William is almost an anti-hero, someone who is terribly flawed, but someone for whom you just want everything to turn out right. And when William meets Kendo, the spark, the attraction is palpable. You just want them both to get together, get away from the shackles of their respective lives. But this isn’t a fairy-tale. There isn’t a happily ever after here.
Ong has a masterful hand at the prose, rich without ever falling into excesses. He draws his characters fully, with a deft hand, and makes us care about them despite ourselves. The result is a truly satisfying story with wonderful social commentary. It is a story about a twisted sort of love…the love of self, the love of the spotlight, the love of success, but over all, this is a biting satire about the lengths anyone can go to when they are tempted…or naive enough to believe. This isn’t a romance by any stretch, but if you like your gay men complex, funny and a little bit messy, this is highly, highly recommended and one of my essential gay-themed books.
dear mr. montgomery clift, i want one thing only. please bring my mama back to me. safe. with no more bruises. i will wait one week. if December 4, 1976
dear mr. montgomery clift, i want one thing only. please bring my mama back to me. safe. with no more bruises. i will wait one week. if nothing bad happens then i know it is ok to write you. Sign bong bong luwad
With that one child-like letter, author Noel Alumit sets a haunting tone that carries on throughout his remarkable debut novel, Letters to Montgomery Clift. But not only does that letter mark the beginning of the story, it is also the start of a long and sometime intimate relationship that young Bong Bong Luwad develops with Mr. Montgomery Clift, the dead, sexually confused actor who starred in such films as From Here to Eternity and The Search. But don’t let this tone fool you. Letters to Montgomery Clift is not a downer of a book. It is at its heart a story about love, about growing up and coming out, about enduring and overcoming, and, most of all, about going home.
We learn that Bong Bong’s story starts before he discovers the cinema persona of Mr. Clift and, in fact, before he ever comes to America. Born in the Philippines during that country’s most repressive regimes, Bong Bong is witness to the thugs of Ferdinand and Imelda Marcos beating his mother and father, both democratic activists, and carting his father away to some unknown location. His mother, fearing for her boy, manages to smuggle Bong Bong out of the Philippines, sending him to live with his auntie in the United States of America and vowing that she and her husband will join him there soon. It is a promise Bong Bong holds onto dearly as the first people in his family begin to “disappear.”
In Los Angeles, Bong Bong lives with his Auntie Yuna, an abusive, alcoholic woman whose life has not gone as she thought it would. Though life with her is fairly toxic, Bong Bong is still with family and he knows deep down that it won’t be long before his Mama and Papa come for him. But when time passes and life with Yuna becomes more and more unstable, Bong Bong begins to wonder just when his parents will fulfill their promise.
One night, the devoutly Catholic Yuna tell young Bong Bong about why she prays, how she prays. It’s better, she says, to write them down, otherwise the prayers just go from your head into thin air. And it is even better to send the prayers to dead relatives because, Dead relatives already know you and you know them. People will do things for people they know. God knows everyone and treats everyone the same. I want to ask a favor from someone who will give better treatment.
Not knowing any of his relatives, Bong Bong doesn’t know to whom he should direct his prayers. Then one night, while watching The Search on television, he is struck by the kindhearted soldier, played by Mr. Clift, who cares for a young boy until his mother returns. Bong Bong decides that if Mr. Clift helped that young boy, surely he would so the same for him. Mr. Clift becomes his patron saint, and Bong Bong begins writing prayers to him, a habit that will continue for years and become very nearly his only means of emotional support.
Auntie Yuna, Bong Bong discovers, is also somewhat of a busy-body, constantly keeping an eye on the rather attractive man next door and his floozy (to her anyway) girlfriend. While she wishes the man’s attentions were being paid to her, Yuna tells Bong Bong that the man is evil. Through the wall, Bong Bong hears the sounds that Mr. Evil and his girlfriend make at night and becomes fascinated with the man, spying on him at one point because he wants to see what evil looks like. Mr. Clift…evil is real good looking. Soon, though, Bong Bong, Mr. Evil and his girlfriend become friends, and Bong Bong finds a support sorely lacking in his life. That is until Mr. Evil gets a job that transfers him away, and yet two more people disappear from Bong Bong’s life. When Auntie Yuna vanishes, too, on her way to a liquor store, Bong Bong is left alone to fend for himself until showing up on Social Services’ radar.
Cut off from all family, absent parents whose love he is beginning to doubt, Bong Bong is shuffled from bad foster home to bad foster home. Ultimately, he lands with an affluent Filipino-American family and though the situation seems ideal, the hole in Bong Bong (now rechristened Bob) only widens, and slowly his need for Mr. Clift becomes desperate, all-consuming, obsessive-compulsive. As he grows into adulthood he becomes as self destructive as Mr. Clift had been, and when he discovers that his new family has skeletons of their own in their closet, everything comes to a boil. His life—and sanity—starts spiraling out of control. Where does Bong Bong go from here? Can Mr. Clift save him the way he did that little boy in the movie? And whatever became of his parents who never, ever seemed to want to come to him.
Alumit packs a lot into this novel—the political climate of the Philippines, the cultural significance of religion in Filipino families, self abuse, mental illness, teen pregnancy, burgeoning awareness of sexuality, but never once does it feel crowded or overwrought. More importantly, it never gets in the way of Bong Bong’s story. Each of these things is simply an aspect of his life, the multitude of things that swirl about him. The focus remains solely on our protagonist. Part of this is due to Alumit’s expert use of clean, simple language. Bong Bong’s voice does indeed “change” as he gets older, but the author always keeps the prose sharply focused and to the point, and the letters to Mr. Clift which start each chapter give a cohesive feel even as the character’s narrative voice grows up.
Alumit also has an expert eye for real-life dialog and the little details that make up lives. The result is that the setting and the characters are full without feeling overworked. And we are treated to a protagonist who is eminently appealing and someone you want to root for. You hurt for him when things are bad and brighten when something good comes his way. But this also extends to even the less immediately likable characters such as Auntie Yuna who, despite her problems, the reader is never made to despise her. In fact, you develop an empathy for this broken woman, and though it is not easy, you can even come to forgive her a little for her foibles.
And when it comes to Bong Bong’s parents, by their absence they become as strong a character as any other in the novel, their spirit omnipresent. It’s remarkable that characters who appear so briefly in the novel seem to grow as the story does, and your feelings toward them shift as does Bong Bong’s. One moment you love them and the next, you hate them for leaving their son alone.
Perhaps the strongest relationship in the book is the relationship between Bong Bong and Mr. Clift. For an illusory relationship, it is a strong and appealing one. Bong Bong finds in him a saint, a friend, a mentor, a lover, a father and a faulty role model. Clift becomes the mirror for Bong Bong, the sole source of support, and a measure of comfort. And then he becomes a crutch that Bong Bong simply can’t let go of, because he cannot deal with someone else in his life diasppearing.
Something wonderful about this book is that Bong Bong—unlike Mr. Clift—never seems conflicted about his sexuality. Certainly, he has issues around it, but as for angst over being gay, Bong Bong is remarkably free of that, a fact I greatly appreciated. In a very real sense, this is a coming of age story, but it is not as so many novels people with gay characters, a sexual coming of age.
Alumit dedicates his book “To those who have Disappeared,” and loss—loss of family, loss of political freedoms, loss of human contact—is the driving theme of the novel and it is what defines Bong Bong Luwad, at the very least, in his own mind. Despite this and to Alumit’s immense credit, although the novel can be an emotional roller coaster, the loss is balanced with an optimism which at times seems to defy logic, almost crossing into faith. As bad as things get for Bong Bong, there is still that faint glimmer of hope burning in him that refuses to be snuffed out, a hope that pushes him to move forward and yet drives him to the brink of insanity.
By books’ end, Alumit has taken us on a terribly affecting emotional journey of sorrow and loss and joy and resignation, yet the hope pervading the novel resonates deeply, ultimately creating a remarkably uplifting story of love—for one’s family and for one’s self—of growth and of survival and new beginnings.
It is a novel for which I have great fondness and respect and I cannot recommend it strongly enough.
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