Noli's Pulitzer Prize

Esteemed colleagues, professors, mentors, avid readers, to the well distinguished writers of our generation, to the Pulitzer Committee and the Columbia University, to the Literary World, to my fellow countrymen, a pleasant day to all of you.

A man's work, that in which he takes pride in, is a product of his passion, of his soul. To be given the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction for the Noli Me Tangere, to be given such honor and recognition, I am left vulnerable in the arms of deep gratitude as my passion goes not unnoticed and my soul evidently seen.

For all its faults, the Noli Me Tangere has served my purposes: purposes reaching beyond the crevices of lost years while tapping the minds of people whose eyes reflect mine. If it is not the skinny nickel-plate, perfectly shaped bullet which an Academian can fire and only a rough pebble picked up from a brook, still it has struck the head of that two-faced Goliath that in the Philippines is called friar-rule and maladministration. It is only fair that they should now raise a chorus of disapproval, an interminable outcry; I do not deny them that right. The pen is mightier than the sword; it would seem that the wound then is deeper, much more fatal. The wound is there and it is grave; what do I care now about the weapon? Unable to deny the truth of the contents, let them now snatch at that fashion, the superficial appearances; a dog bites the stone that wounds him.

That being said, I am honored of such prestigious recognition. I cannot begin to explain and much more express to all of you my sincerest of gratitude. The Pulitzer donning the covers of my books and its future publication, it would serve as a laurel of excellence directed toward the world upon a work so personal aiming to change an archipelago. It would then seem improper.

For the rest of it, if I have detractors, cynics and skeptics, on the other hand I do not lack admirers, enthusiasts and supporters; one compensates for the other. Standing before you about to accept this honor, compensation has indeed come in the most random and unexpected of things. It would be foolish, yes, very unwise to ask the powerful whom I have offended to reward one who has told them the bitter truth; I consider myself lucky to be still alive. That is the only prize I have won, the only prize I feel righteous to accept, the only prize. Only demigods require men to kiss the hand which they have been slapped.

What I would have really hated to hear would have been the applause and congratulations, instead of the boos and curses of my enemies, for this would have been a proof that my attack backfired. Since I wrote, not for myself, nor aspire to be a porter of the University and of the prestigious Pulitzer, but to expose abuses and unmask hypocrisies, what do I care for the rest now that I have achieved my purpose? I have won the Pulitzer as you said, and for that I am grateful truly, but I do not deserve this. I have won, but is this really what I, my people, want?

Noli Me Tangere. The book has not yet been judged and cannot be judged rightly because its effects are still being felt. When the men whom it pillories and the abuses which it fights have disappeared from my country's political life, when a generation arises which does not itself participate in the present crimes and immoralities, when Spain puts an end to these struggles by means of open and liberal reforms, in brief, when we shall have gone, and with us our self-love, our vanities and petty passions, then Spaniards and Filipinos, shall be the judge of the book freely and impartially, without fanaticism or spite.

Perhaps the time is not yet.

I cannot accept the Pulitzer, I humbly denounce my right to the award.


On my Hand,
Jose Rizal






By: Noel Luciano