F. H. Batacan’s “Smaller and Smaller Circles,” one of seven novels released as part of the U.P. Jubilee Students’ Edition, is a rarity in the Philippine writing scene because it is a crime novel set in the Philippines. It is touted by the U.P. Press, its publisher, as more of a pocketbook than a piece of required reference material with its slick pacing, its engaging story and its late 1990’s sensibility.



At the start, a series of murders are discovered in and around the Payatas district in Quezo

F. H. Batacan’s “Smaller and Smaller Circles,” one of seven novels released as part of the U.P. Jubilee Students’ Edition, is a rarity in the Philippine writing scene because it is a crime novel set in the Philippines. It is touted by the U.P. Press, its publisher, as more of a pocketbook than a piece of required reference material with its slick pacing, its engaging story and its late 1990’s sensibility.



At the start, a series of murders are discovered in and around the Payatas district in Quezon City, leading many to believe that a serial killer is on the loose. Now the killer’s style is different in the sense that instead of just KILLING the victims – all pre-adolescent boys – their faces and hearts are all missing. To be more exact, the body parts mentioned seem to be ripped out from the skeletal frames. Father Emil, the parish priest of the area, gives this information to Jesuit priests Augusto “Gus” Saenz and Jerome Lucero, a criminal anthropologist and a clinical psychologist respectively, who are working on this case in conjunction with the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI). Assisted by Joanna Bonifacio, described as a “one-woman NBI (National Bureau of Investigation)” operative, who works as a reporter and writer for a weekly current affairs program in a large television network, the two priests try to trace the suspect and his motives for killing. However, Attorney Benjamin Arcinas of the NBI – a villainous coward in the “tradition” of real-life bureaucrats in Philippine politics – keeps obstructing them from obtaining the truth, which is actually a lot closer than any of them have thought...



Criminology and forensic science in this book is well researched and can be easily understood. It’s obvious that the author’s experience as a broadcast journalist has helped a lot in delivering the facts straight without confusing the first-time reader too much. Instead of bombarding one with strange criminological terms, she instead piles up detail over detail with words vivid enough to conjure the crime scene in the mind. There is a conscious effort to invite, not alienate, the reader, although the more gruesome particulars of the specimens being examined WILL disgust the weak of heart or stomach.



The whodunit element is also played up magnificently. It isn’t lost underneath all the humorous banter and asides, whether they pertain to the crimes themselves or otherwise. In fact, the use of Fr. Jerome’s dreams as a method of analyzing crime is very effective to show this (though she sadly abandons this device later on), as is the feeling of paranoia subtly wafting within it. It only reinforces the fact that he is an esteemed psychologist for a good reason, and that he has learned much about criminals thanks to his “apprenticeship” under Fr. Gus. But as soon as possible suspects in the middle of the story are mentioned, the realizations come fast and furious. You just KNOW who the killer is – the author stops short of practically giving him away.



Each of the major characters is nicely endowed with three-dimensional depth. Fr. Gus is über-cool on the outside, but skillfully hides a need for female companionship (although not the distaste for dentists) beneath. His former student, Fr. Jerome, is hot-tempered especially when stuck in traffic jams (also added in the book for a more realistic and wry touch), and is weak in constitution. (He throws up a few instances in the book.) Joanna is found sleeping with a married man in one chapter before running off to work early in the morning, if not gently teasing her mentor in the network she works in. The criminal – I won’t spoil the fun of divulging who he is – is seething with rage underneath his shy but collected exterior not unlike the priest who would eventually lure him out into the open.



There are characters inflicting anger within the book – the criminal against his tormentor and former companions, who his victims represent, and the NBI bureaucrat against his past. But underlying all these is fury directed at the phenomenon of poverty so prevalent in the Philippines. Arcinas makes his way up the ladder of success because he wants to forget his roots in Tondo, the notorious slum district in Manila. The suspect lives under the cover of being a skilled middle-class dentist because it enables him to hunt down little boys who remind him of his past friends, all abused like him by a PE teacher in Payatas High School. He, like Arcinas, was not born rich, though because of his intelligence he is more able to hide it from most outsiders. But to illustrate that the ends do not justify the means, Ms. Batacan ensures that Arcinas is nearly sacked for his incompetence in handling the case. On a more bittersweet note, the suspect meets his demise near the final chapter of the novel, without making it clear how or why exactly this happens. Whether this implies that the fight against destitution is an exercise in futility is anyone’s guess.



An interesting thing about this book is its slightly self-effacing humor, because no matter how difficult the case may be to solve or how disgusting the procedures of forensics science are, the book can skip from grim dialogue to bits of playful witticisms and banter and back without missing a beat. There are numerous references to pop culture thrown here and there, like Fr. Saenz’s unconventional (by clerical standards, anyway) choice of music. Sometimes it actually feels like a parody of detective shows on TV today, such as “The X-Files” or “C.S.I.” (of which the author is reportedly a great fan). A particularly comedic side-story is Fr. Saenz’s impacted tooth, which becomes all the more hilarious each time the novel uses it for comic relief. Strangely, it doesn’t seem the least bit tired; it is indeed to Ms. Batacan’s credit that she can make a recurring topic funny for as many times as she can return to it, especially after a heavy discourse on homicide.



The best thing about the book is that it is a fast read (a moderately fast reader can finish it in 4 to 6 hours), in spite of the careful attention paid to details. It may lead both the protagonists and the readers in circles at first but halfway through the novel the direction it wants to take them becomes crystal-clear. There is a freshness to it: subsequent re-reads do not make it feel tedious or staid. However this same brevity also works against the novel somewhat – there is little room for character development, and sometimes the story is hard to follow once the pace picks up. In some cases, in the middle of the book one feels like crying out loud "How?" or "Why?" because it is too easy to get lost in the statements and particulars peppered all over the pages.



But all in all, “Smaller and Smaller Circles” is a breath of fresh air in a literary scene littered with nothing but obscure poetry and overly sentimental short stories and novelettes. Hopefully, this Carlos Palanca award-winning book will not be the last either from the author, or of its kind.