Characters in many young adult novels tend to face challenges far advanced for their age. Elisa, the protagonist in Irene Sarmiento’s debut novel, Stray Cats, is similarly put through a wringer. However, unlike other stories, our main girl willingly put herself there. Through her quest, we readers may see Manila in all its whimsy and tragedy and, perhaps, make us hope for a better, safer place for her and her friends.
How Losing a Friend Highlights Elisa’s Agency
Elisa’s story begins with her talking to a stray cat called Oscar Santos. The cat informs her that her best friend, Raquel, might have been kidnapped. Instead of outright panicking, Elisa picks up the cat, brings him home, and asks him to tell more. So begins the hatching of plans to confirm Raquel’s disappearance and search for her. Elisa cannot tell her parents because her source of information is a cat who will only talk to her, so she takes matters into her own hands; an impressive feat for someone so young and sheltered.
In real life, kids who grew up in insecure communities or overprotective households might have heard warnings about strangers who snatch children and sell them. At least, I remember older relatives telling me to be careful or criminals would kidnap me and sell my body parts.
Elisa may have heard the same warnings, but she need not worry as she’s living in a gated village. Her friend Raquel is supposed to be just as safe because they’re neighbors, which makes the kidnapping incident more suspicious. It does not take much for us adult readers to figure out that Raquel was probably sold. Young ones, however, might be more concerned about how Elisa will pull through.
Seeing Manila Through Elisa’s Eyes
Because she’s a sheltered girl, Elisa is not exposed to jeepneys, Quiapo, and Luneta Park until she begins her search for Raquel. She gradually experiences Manila, accompanied by Oscar Santos and her nanny. We don’t get to hear much about Elisa’s opinions because she’s bent on finding Raquel, but her subtle reactions show that “interacting” with the city for the first time is eye-opening.
As Manila unfolds before Elisa’s eyes, we see her getting shocked, feeling sorry, and growing more scared for Raquel. At the same time, we see her become braver and more daring in her quest to find her friend. Perhaps, the thought of getting Raquel out of the ugliness of Manila’s exploitative corners outweighs the discomfort she feels in the middle of the city’s strange, unsafe, cluttered space.
Sarmiento’s description of the city and Elisa’s first-time reactions elicit nostalgia, humor, shame, and frustration, essentially encompassing how Manila makes locals feel about the capital they love and despise in equal parts. The jeepney scene, which surprises Elisa from how close everyone sits next to each other and the constant jostling, is one of the city’s snapshots that captures its masa vibe, which also perfectly shows how Elisa was a stranger to her country until that moment.
For Elisa, everything unfolds for the first time and, in some cases, brings questions to the surface — inquiries about social disparity, child protection, and family values. I genuinely worried about her being so culture-shocked to the point that she would abort her mission. Impressively, Elisa retains her focus. She takes on each scene as if clearing game levels, but the goal, finding Raquel, stays the same.
Describing Manila’s Monsters Through Philippine Folklore
One of the most powerful elements of the book is the use of local mythical creatures to give face to Manila’s villains, the exploiters of children and women. Instead of describing their human forms, Sarmiento borrows the terrifying qualities of Philippine monsters, seamlessly integrating the inhumanity of the halimaw into the rotten souls of the people behind Raquel’s abduction and other exploitative businesses shown in the story. This inclusion of folklore makes the story closer to home.
For some reason, seeing the abusers as monsters somehow validates the reader’s growing hatred for Raquel’s kidnappers. One might also wonder: was it the evil in humans that prompted the creation of imagined creatures such as the tikbalang or the kapre? Is this story telling us that these exploiters are nothing more than halimaw? Just like how the idea of the halimaw endures the passage of time, will the exploiters remain a part of Manila as a stain on the social fabric?
One might also wonder why most of the adults, especially those who look and act “proper,” seem to care little or not at all, while Elisa insists on searching for her friend, even when it means facing terrible monsters herself.
A Modern Adventure Story That Will Make Readers Look Forward to a Sequel
Irene Sarmiento’s Stray Cats is like many tales of quests in that it highlights how the journey is more essential than its end. While some parts of the book, events and characters alike, made me wonder if they’re necessary, and while some sections took me out of the narrative because of the textbook approach to describing the Philippines, the story mostly sticks to its core themes, celebrating friendship, bravery, and resilience. These themes are lived not only by Elisa but also by the other cast, providing a tapestry of relatable, distinctive characters. Most notably, these themes were lived by Raquel, even when she’s mostly mentioned in passing, effectively haunting the narrative and pushing Elisa right to the end.
All in all, I am satisfied with Elisa’s conclusion. I might even have shed tears. However, I’m convinced that this story needs a sequel, and I only hope that it will happen as soon as possible.
