Maria Clara the Mary Sue

María Clara has long been identified as the ideal Filipina, and at first glance, it’s not hard to see why. Gentle and meek, María Clara would never hurt a fly; the closest she came at it was when she was hitting Crisostomo Ibarra with a fan, but that was a playful encounter. Devoutly religious like her father Capitan Tiago, she looks to the Holy Virgin as her mother, having lost her biological mother Doña Pia from childbirth. María Clara might as well be an avatar of Mother Mary herself; any scene including her would not be complete without description of how beautiful and chaste she is. “Everything about her breathed virginity, purity, innocence,” as she is described shortly before the end of Chapter 40.

But I beg to differ.

José Rizal’s Noli Me Tangere is better known for its legacy of provoking the Philippine Revolution than for its literary merit. Considering that Noli was Rizal’s first novel, it’s not that much of a surprise. (It’s nowhere near bad but it certainly has its faults.) Rizal’s poetry is better than his prose, I would say. His earliest ventures into literature was into poetry rather than prose, so I’m not going to take it out on Rizal for writing such a miserable excuse for a love interest as he had not much practice for prose apart from his journalistic undertakings in La Solidaridad. (I might be wrong, of course.) Noli Me Tangere borrows heavily from Victor Hugo’s style, as both Hugo’s and Rizal’s works incorporate criticism of social issues within the plot. Rizal’s text is mercifully fast-paced, but certain long-winded descriptions tend to slow it down. Such lines include anything with María Clara in it.

The idea that María Clara is the symbol of the ideal Filipina might have been a misinterpretation. Forty-four chapters into the novel, I simply do not see a reason why. María Clara is a completely static character and contributes absolutely nothing to the plot; she is there just for everyone else to fawn over for her beauty, talent for music (specifically for singing and playing the piano), and her genteel manner. If anybody else is not entranced by her, they are envious of her.

But I am neither drawn to nor envious of María Clara; I’m just irritated with her. Aside from everything I’ve already mentioned, and in case you haven’t figured it out yet, María Clara is a Mary Sue—a Purity Sue, to be exact. She is the very essence of goodness, to the point that she might even put Mother Mary to shame. For this, she doesn’t seem to bear any hint of a [character] flaw, and everyone simply loves her.

When I first encountered Noli Me Tangere when I was 15-year-old schoolgirl, I practically swallowed up my teachers’ biased interpretations of the novel. It wasn’t my teachers’ fault; I’d say it has to do more of the curriculum and the poor educational system than the faculty itself that result in misguided education in the Philippines, but that’s not what we are discussing here.

I remember feeling for María Clara as what was expected of me. Now reading Harold Augenbraum’s English translation of Noli Me Tangere, I couldn’t read a scene with María Clara in it without wanting to swear at the book under my breath. It’s true that “Clarita” never utters a foul word against anyone, nor even thinks about spiting anybody; however, despite having everything a maiden would want—a loving family, loyal friends and a devoted lover— whenever María Clara does or says something she would either be complaining or crying for no apparent reason. But hey, I understand that she was depressed when Ibarra was excommunicated, but that was no reason to have a nervous breakdown over it ... becoming bedridden with just a fever, not talking to anyone. She practically turned into a baby; crying was the only thing she could do. María Clara was probably the original emo character.

María Clara is also a Relationship Sue; she exists only to be Crisostomo Ibarra’s love interest. Without her, the plot would have carried on without necessary alterations. There is no conflict going on with her; she’s suffering, alright, but everything terrible that happens is completely beyond her control. Rizal could have given her a task she could handle herself, but he was too busy making friars angry by “painting” them as perverted tyrants in a pseudo-dystopian society. If Rizal knew that María Clara has no significance to the plot whatsoever, he should have just killed her “onscreen” in Noli Me Tangere instead of killing her “offscreen” in El Filibusterismo.

As for the notion that María Clara is the prime example of the ideal Filipina is nothing less than insulting to me. I can understand how being meek and submissive is ideal; it’s always been that way in patriarchal society. But I won’t accept it if it means being totally ineffectual with no dreams or aspirations of my own. If anything, I think the notion as mentioned above might have been a mistake. We would never know for sure what Rizal was trying to put off but a highly intellectual guy like him would more likely place strong women like his mother and sisters to be ideal Filipinas; considering that Noli Me Tangere was meant to be a criticism of Philippine society in under the Spanish rule, could it be that María Clara was also what the Filipina should NOT be?

Maybe it’s just my modern idealism talking, but I personally and seriously think that it was a misinterpretation. Somebody must have admired Clarita’s submissiveness and disregarded everything else. If you ask me, like any man, a woman should also have the chance to make something of herself in this world and not be just a pretty face.

If there’s another character that should be the epitome of the ideal Filipina, I say it’s Tía Isabel. She might not be the best character on the novel either, but she’s caring and she wants the best for her family. She might not be María Clara’s mother, but she cares for the girl like she’s her own daughter. Similarly, she looks out for her cousin Capitan Tiago and is not afraid to tell him off when he says or does something stupid.

"Juliet is perfect," said Bella Swan.

For someone who has a bachelor's degree in English Literature, Stephenie Meyer doesn't know shit about Shakespeare. To some extent, I could see the resemblance between Meyer's twisted love story and Shakespeare's timeless classic Romeo and Juliet. However, Meyer fails to see the underlying significance of the play that his excellent writing tends to unwittingly conceal: Romeo and Juliet are nothing more than stupid, angst-ridden, hormone-driven, rich teenagers willing to risk their own lives and that of each of their families and friends for sex. Critics and literary experts even consider Romeo and Juliet as Shakespeare's worst work, but only because it lacks the sociopolitical impact of his other works such as King Lear or Macbeth; not to mention that Shakespeare wrote Romeo and Juliet as a satire of how foolish young people (i.e. teenagers) can be, rather than the epitome of love and romance as Meyer apparently sees it to be.

Keeping that in perspective, let us move on to the single line that really struck me with ire the moment I set eyes on it while I was reading New Moon several months ago: “Juliet is perfect.” Although Shakespeare is known to defy the rules and standards set by Aristotle's Poetics, but he gets away with it with good writing; however, Shakespeare does obey the rule that in order for a plot to take place, a conflict must get in the way of the protagonist and further complicated by the protagonist's “flaw”.

Assuming everybody reading this knows the conflict and plot of Romeo and Juliet, there must be character flaws that go with it, right?

Romeo's flaw tends to be more obvious than Juliet's. Rash and reckless like a whirlwind, he immediately falls for Juliet so soon after breaking up with Rosaline. Romeo also went straight to Friar Laurence, mere hours after meeting Juliet, to arrange their marriage. But wait, whose idea was it for them to get married?

Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed.
If that thy bent of love be honourable,
Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow,
By one that I'll procure to come to thee,
Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite;
And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay
And follow thee my lord throughout the world.
~Juliet, Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene II

There you have it, people: it was Juliet's idea. She was no worse than Romeo, and not any better either. If there was any hint of so-called “love” within them, they might have at least thought about sacrificing their affair to avoid further conflict between their families or else urged their parents to reconcile so their relationship can have some breathing room. Unfortunately, the young couple thought of nothing else but to satisfy their sexual desire, which they know they'll taste only at marriage.

What was so “perfect” about Juliet anyway? I for one don't see anything pure or perfect about her. Like Romeo, she thinks of nothing but herself. Like Romeo, she is just as willing to risk getting disowned for having an affair with the enemy. … If that's not stupid, I don't know what is.