With the current trend of postcolonial Philippine literature in English, what else should come in with the tides from Cebu but Longitude, a re-writing of Magellan’s search for the Spice Islands? From a host of novels like Alfred Yuson’s Great Philippine Jungle Energy Café to Ninotcka Rosca’s Twice Blessed, Cortes’s Longitude neatly fits in the category of counter-narratives and alternative histories that are now in vogue. The novel is possibly the twisted infant of Carlos Fuentes’s The Orange Tree and Umberto Eco’s The Island of the Day Before with its preoccupation with colonial conquest and maritime travails – but perhaps these comparison would hinder someone in his or her reading of the novel. This novel certainly deserves to be read for its many merits, and not for any similarity to past masterpieces.

      Longitude starts with the precarious protestations of its author regarding the provenance of the document he translated from Portuguese , a document whose forgery is a tale in itself. Cortes’s insistence on the falsity of history cannot be denied, and as his supposed patron said, “The best version of Magellan’s story hadn’t been told by any writer. It had been sung by Yoyoy Villame.”

      From that point onwards, Longitude plunges headlong into the journey of Ferdinand Magellan, his search for his strait, the Spice Islands, and longitude, with all its laborious details. Indeed, the novel is as long and as slow-moving as the original trip must have been. Yet it is this love of detail that breathes life into the realism of the narrative, if only to further expose itself as a fictive account.

      The novel’s unreliable narrator Enrique provides the commentary throughout, except for a few portions told from Magellan’s point of view. As Magellan’s Malay interpreter and as the only Asian on board, Enrique’s subordinate position is awkward and he is ambivalent about his role in the deception and subjugation of the people he meets. Enrique’s loyalty is only to himself and to Magellan, and when his master dies he sees nothing wrong with turning against the racist officers who remain in the fleet. Enrique’s only desire is to come home, or a place that he can fashion as his home, after seeing the hypocrisy and complicity of the Western world and the defeat of his native Melacca.

      In Longitude, colonization becomes a sublime act that is even more terrifying, as Magellan is shown to be the victim of political intrigue and ridicule at the European courts and his desperate attempt to salvage his nautical career is at the expense of the natives of Patagonia and Cebu. Nevertheless, Magellan’s character is surprisingly sympathetic and noble – making his determination to make Catholics out of everyone an act of a religious fanatic. His religious fervor is depicted to be his downfall in Mactan.

      Cortes takes the time out to depict the actions of the local chieftains as shrewd and calculated. Scared of a repeat of the Melacca massacre that had resulted in Enrique’s enslavement, their acceptance of the cross and of baptism is used to buy Raja Humabon time to gather allies against the Armada. This is a direct counter-narrative against dominant historical discourse that suggests that the Cebuano rajas and datus collaborated blindly with the colonizers. Meanwhile, Lapu-lapu is depicted as a fierce and headstrong datu who bows down to no one.

      The recurring metaphor of Longitude is Enrique’s constant connection between the ship board deaths of the Armada with human sacrifice to the gods of the lands they visit. Each death becomes more of a sacrifice due to the rank of the officer – which makes Magellan’s death at Mactan inevitable, and even a little anti-climatic.

      The novel is peppered with inconstant spelling of names and places, making it historically accurate for its inexactitude-the signs of the novel is not necessarily what is signified. Longitude also tackles the problems of translation, as Enrique often grapples with trying to translate Western concepts into his native tongue, which is also translated by the raja’s adviser. Enrique uses his multi-lingual communication skills as his meal ticket and as his source of power: he retains and omits what pleases his listeners.

      Enrique’s many languages leave him in a quandary, however, for he is fully aware that his knowledge sets him apart from others. He feels that he cannot return to his native land, for he has also absorbed much of the Portuguese and Spanish culture and a single code, so the novel only ends with his solitary reflections.

      While others may be turned off by the novel’s premise or its length, Longitude raises many questions and even takes part in the historical debate that surrounds Magellan’s journey by taking sides in certain controversial dates and places. The brilliance of the novel’s depth and complexity sinks in and remains, long after the final page is read.

      The search for longitude is a search for what remains unknown and unsaid. Longitude, by literally rocking the dominant discourse beneath Magellan’s boat, has the promise to rock conventional views of Philippine history. Whether it has the same effect on other readers is still uncharted territory.