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Smaller and Smaller Circles
Smaller and Smaller Circles is unique in the Philippine literary scene - a Pinoy detective novel, both fast-paced and intelligent, with a Jesuit priest who also happens to be a forensic anthropologist as the sleuth.
357 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2002
469 people are currently reading
8763 people want to read
About the author
F.H. Batacan
7 books197 followersMaria Felisa H. Batacan is a Filipino journalist and a writer of crime and mystery fiction. Her work has been published in the Philippines and abroad under the name F.H. Batacan.
She was a fellow at the 1996 Dumaguete National Writers' Workshop.
Batacan worked in the Philippine intelligence community and then became a broadcast journalist. She attended the University of the Philippines, where she pursued a master's degree in Arts Studies. In 1999 her manuscript, Smaller and Smaller Circles, won the Don Carlos Palanca Memorial Awards for Literature Grand Prize for the English Novel. This novel was published in 2002 by the University of the Philippines Press. Although most Filipino English-language fiction works garner a single print run of only 1,000 copies,Smaller and Smaller Circles had been reprinted four times by the year 2006, for a total of 6,000 copies. The novel was one of the first Filipino works of crime fiction.
The novel also won the 2002 Manila Critics’ Circle National Book Award and the Madrigal-Gonzales Best First Book Award in 2003.
In 2008, she won 1st prize in the English short story category of the Philippines Free Press Literary Awards.
She was a fellow at the 1996 Dumaguete National Writers' Workshop.
Batacan worked in the Philippine intelligence community and then became a broadcast journalist. She attended the University of the Philippines, where she pursued a master's degree in Arts Studies. In 1999 her manuscript, Smaller and Smaller Circles, won the Don Carlos Palanca Memorial Awards for Literature Grand Prize for the English Novel. This novel was published in 2002 by the University of the Philippines Press. Although most Filipino English-language fiction works garner a single print run of only 1,000 copies,Smaller and Smaller Circles had been reprinted four times by the year 2006, for a total of 6,000 copies. The novel was one of the first Filipino works of crime fiction.
The novel also won the 2002 Manila Critics’ Circle National Book Award and the Madrigal-Gonzales Best First Book Award in 2003.
In 2008, she won 1st prize in the English short story category of the Philippines Free Press Literary Awards.
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February 12, 2017
One man’s trash is another man’s treasure, I’m sure we’ve all heard of this overused line. However in my country, sadly, this is to be taken literally. There are people who depend on trash as their main source of income. A sad reality where both adults and kids usually go through the dumps and scavenge anything they can from recyclables to broken electronics and even half-eaten food. Forced by abject poverty, immune to the stench, these people depend on foul, rotting garbage because it is the one thing that sustains them and their families. In one of the harshest conditions, a very gruesome setting, this tale takes place.
Smaller and Smaller Circles is a crime-fiction mystery set in the poorest slums of the Philippines. The infamous Payatas, a community of waste and decay with miniature rubbish mountains dominating the area, a place where the main livelihood of people is scavenging. Here a string of poor, malnourished kids are murdered. The police do not seem to care, the victims are piss poor anyway. Authorities are too busy catering to problems created by people of privilege, parents are too uneducated and defeated to know what to do, so for a good while things go undetected. In this scummy setting, two priests, a forensic anthropologist and a psychologist, find a pattern that leads them on a search for the painful answers we don’t always seek, to help people who never get the opportunity.
The space for serious literary writing in the Philippines is insignificant for some odd reason. Especially for a country where a good majority of the population are English speakers, there have been only a handful of serious books to come out of the past century. I have more fingers in my hands than names I could mention of decent authors to come out of the country for the past ten years. That’s why I’m going to make it a point this year to feature some of the few highlights of Philippine literature and this book is certainly one of them. Winner of the Palanca Award, my country’s version of the National Book Award, this piece of crime-fiction is not only important because of its literary merit but also because of its socio-political commentary about our judiciary system and the state of law enforcement. The portrayal here is harsh but spot on, law enforcement agencies and officers are not only incompetent but also corrupt. I’m not generalizing all of them, but that’s the public perception in the country where most people believe that justice is only for the rich, and punishment is only for the poor. It’s ugly, but it’s the truth, and with our current president’s brand of vigilante justice and the police force being given too much power, I don’t see things improving any time soon. Literature plays an important role not only in highlighting something people already know but are too numb to feel, but also in ensuring that a record is kept for the future so that the generations to follow would not commit the same kinds of atrocities and mistakes.
Another important issue raised by the book is child labor. It’s hard to fault impoverished parents whose children work, not because they’re forced to, but because they both want and need to. In Payatas, a good number of the scavengers are children because they’re the ones agile and limber enough to climb the pseudo-mountains and cranny nooks formed by the refuse and garbage. Child labor is not only limited to scavenging, there are a lot worse like mining, oil spill diving, etc. This might be a failure of parenting, sure. But on a more important note it is a failure of the state. It should never allow a system created where children are forced to labor because of poverty. If you stop these children from working, they will have nothing to eat. So what can the state do? It’s a very sobering reality where ugliness and misery go hand in hand. And so when a more horrendous form of injustice happens, it’s hard not to feel angry about the whole situation. In a sense the fiction might be a little bit too emotionally charged, but it is a forgivable case, because here reality might even worse than fiction.
F.H. Batacan’s literary debut is an eye-opening journey into the barest face of a third world country, but at the same time it’s also an interesting literary piece of crime fiction. It might not be the best whodunit, but it gives a voice to the millions of poor, suffering children who were never important, those children no one listened to when it was their turn to scream their last.
Smaller and Smaller Circles is a crime-fiction mystery set in the poorest slums of the Philippines. The infamous Payatas, a community of waste and decay with miniature rubbish mountains dominating the area, a place where the main livelihood of people is scavenging. Here a string of poor, malnourished kids are murdered. The police do not seem to care, the victims are piss poor anyway. Authorities are too busy catering to problems created by people of privilege, parents are too uneducated and defeated to know what to do, so for a good while things go undetected. In this scummy setting, two priests, a forensic anthropologist and a psychologist, find a pattern that leads them on a search for the painful answers we don’t always seek, to help people who never get the opportunity.
The space for serious literary writing in the Philippines is insignificant for some odd reason. Especially for a country where a good majority of the population are English speakers, there have been only a handful of serious books to come out of the past century. I have more fingers in my hands than names I could mention of decent authors to come out of the country for the past ten years. That’s why I’m going to make it a point this year to feature some of the few highlights of Philippine literature and this book is certainly one of them. Winner of the Palanca Award, my country’s version of the National Book Award, this piece of crime-fiction is not only important because of its literary merit but also because of its socio-political commentary about our judiciary system and the state of law enforcement. The portrayal here is harsh but spot on, law enforcement agencies and officers are not only incompetent but also corrupt. I’m not generalizing all of them, but that’s the public perception in the country where most people believe that justice is only for the rich, and punishment is only for the poor. It’s ugly, but it’s the truth, and with our current president’s brand of vigilante justice and the police force being given too much power, I don’t see things improving any time soon. Literature plays an important role not only in highlighting something people already know but are too numb to feel, but also in ensuring that a record is kept for the future so that the generations to follow would not commit the same kinds of atrocities and mistakes.
Another important issue raised by the book is child labor. It’s hard to fault impoverished parents whose children work, not because they’re forced to, but because they both want and need to. In Payatas, a good number of the scavengers are children because they’re the ones agile and limber enough to climb the pseudo-mountains and cranny nooks formed by the refuse and garbage. Child labor is not only limited to scavenging, there are a lot worse like mining, oil spill diving, etc. This might be a failure of parenting, sure. But on a more important note it is a failure of the state. It should never allow a system created where children are forced to labor because of poverty. If you stop these children from working, they will have nothing to eat. So what can the state do? It’s a very sobering reality where ugliness and misery go hand in hand. And so when a more horrendous form of injustice happens, it’s hard not to feel angry about the whole situation. In a sense the fiction might be a little bit too emotionally charged, but it is a forgivable case, because here reality might even worse than fiction.
F.H. Batacan’s literary debut is an eye-opening journey into the barest face of a third world country, but at the same time it’s also an interesting literary piece of crime fiction. It might not be the best whodunit, but it gives a voice to the millions of poor, suffering children who were never important, those children no one listened to when it was their turn to scream their last.
October 10, 2025
In a Nutshell: A Filipino crime mystery focussed on two priests hunting for a serial killer in the late 1990s. The combination of priest + investigator is quite novel. The *mystery* is fairly straightforward, but this book is so much more than an ordinary mystery. It needs some stern editing, but if you pick this up more for the characters and for the Manila setting, this OwnVoices work really delivers. Despite its editorial gaps, I was fairly hooked from start to end. Recommended, not as a mystery or a police procedural but as a culturally-accurate socio-political drama. Check the content warnings.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Plot Preview:
Bookish Yays:
👏🏻 An OwnVoices Filipino crime drama. First of its kind. Unique in its concept. Brutally honest in its portrayal. Yay!
👏🏻 Frs. Gus and Jerome - the fabulous Jesuit duo at the helm of the story. The friendship between them despite their age difference seems so genuine! I loved how the two bantered with each other and understood each other perfectly.
👏🏻 The combination of priest + investigator – strange but it works! I found it impressive that there is not a single scene with the priests praying to God to help them solve the case faster. While there are a few biblical verses, their investigation is conducted more with their heads than through divine intervention. God helps those who help themselves, after all.
👏🏻 The depiction of the crimes. Not a happy Yay, but a sombre one, doffing a hat at the hardhitting portrayal. The plot gets you to really *feel* for the victims, even at an individual level. Do note that the murders are quite graphic and there is no attempt to tone down the brutality on page. I felt quite queasy at the start. However, I didn’t find the writing gratuitous, just unfiltered.
👏🏻 The investigative hurdles, be it the struggles of solving crimes without modern technical support such as online databases, cameras, DNA testing, and so on, or the police inefficiency either due to apathy or work overload. The investigation proceeds through the old-fashioned way: sheer manual drudgery and grind work combined with instinct and brains. The pre-tech-era feel is recreated wonderfully.
👏🏻 The subplot connected to a scandal concerning Catholic priests and their abuse of power. Never at the forefront of the core plot, and yet dominant enough to leave a mark. I would never agree with the solution resorted to in the book, but I totally agree with its accuracy.
👏🏻 The Filipino setting. From overcrowded Manila to poverty-stricken Payatas, the book brings the place alive without resorting to unnecessary exaggeration or biased reporting. I looked up a few OwnVoices reviews to check if the author had resorted to stereotyping. Coming from India and seeing what distortions many expat Indian authors have made in their fictional depiction of this complex country, I am wary of jumping to conclusions about a country based on one book. Happy to report that the Filipino reviews I could locate found the depiction of the location, culture, and the attitude accurate. I will always appreciate unbiased OwnVoices writing, especially one that is truthful without being preachy.
👏🏻 The depiction of the unwritten hierarchy in investigative importance, a concept rarely covered in books but often seen in reality. Whose death counts as necessary and whose is dispensable? Whose death will get all the attention and whose death will not even generate a squeak from those in power? A question that has been raised many times across the world, and portrayed excellently in this story.
👏🏻 The ending. Damn! I can’t say I didn’t see it coming, but it still shook me. I wish one particular development hadn’t occurred, but that adds to the realism of the story.
Bookish Mixed Bags:
🤞🏻 The book is promoted everywhere as a mystery, but honestly, if you pick this up as a mystery or even as a police procedural, it falls flat. After a point, we readers already know the identity of the criminal, and just need to wait and see how the priests catch up. The proceedings are fairly straightforward. But if you read this as a socio-political drama highlighting the crime scene and the social disparity in Manila, this book will deliver, and how!
🤞🏻 The secondary characters are intriguingly sketched. For every single character, major or minor or tertiary, we get a little glimpse into their personal life, helping us know them just a little better. At the same time, this also leads to too much of character background info. Disappointingly, except for one journalist and one doctor in somewhat small roles, there is no female character of note.
Bookish Nays:
👎🏻 Just one Nay, but a major one. The editing. The character development, the social depiction, and the few descriptive inclusions are all spot on. But viewed from a technical angle, the book needed much finetuning. The biggest problem was the constant head-hopping across characters, making the third-person narrative feel jumpy. Many important details aren’t specified. We see the why of the crime but never the how, further confirming that this shouldn’t be read as a crime thriller. We also never get to know how a priest can work with a university as a forensic anthropologist; how do the two worlds (religious and scientific) work in unison? I wish there had been greater clarity on this intriguing mash-up. The audiobook mentions the time indicator as 1997 a couple of times in the initial quarter; the ebook has no mention of the year at all! I would have read this as a contemporary mystery and been befuddled at how antiquated it felt, had I not had the audiobook to correct my assumption. Also, would a priest own a cell phone in 1997?
🎧 The Audiobook Experience:
The audiobook, clocking at 10 hrs 45 min, is narrated by Ramón de Ocampo. He is brilliant! There are so many male characters in the story, but through a subtle change in voice and tone, he manages to make each of them sound distinct. For the few female characters, he just goes soft without going nasal or high-pitched. As most of the book (barring the first few chapters) comes in a linear narrative, I’d definitely advocate the audio version as a great way of experiencing this story.
Overall, despite my disappointment at the frequent head-jumping, I was hooked by the grittiness of this story. Luckily, I am a bigger fan of dramatic storylines than mysteries, so the fact that the actual mystery in the book was somewhat straightforward didn’t bother me much. I didn’t expect the book to be so sad, but it manages to wring out a multitude of emotions.
This is a debut work, widely considered the first Filipino crime novel. (Wonder how! Did no one write crime in the Philippines prior to 1996?) Originally written as a novella, it was the winner of the 2002 Philippine National Book Award in this format. The extended full-length version was published by Soho Crime in 2015. It is amply clear that the writer is talented, but probably needed more writing experience. I wouldn’t say no to more works by her.
Recommended, yes. But only to those who would like a plot focussing more on the characters than on the crime. If you read this, let it not be wanting a police procedural or a crime thriller or a murder mystery (even though the story centres around major crimes.) Rather, read it for a tiny but honest glimpse into the Philippines, its general mindset and struggles.
3.5 stars. (As a mystery, 2.5 stars. As a realistic OwnVoices work, 4.5 stars. Averaged and rounding up for the audio version.)
Content Warnings: (Note that these contain major spoilers.)
Graphic murders, body mutilation, teen pregnancy, marital rape, paedophilia, sex abuse scandals in the church, poverty, classism.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Connect with me through:
My Blog || The StoryGraph || Instagram || Facebook ||
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Plot Preview:
1997. Manila, Philippines. Fr. Gus Saenz, a skilful forensic anthropologist, and his protégé Fr. Jerome Lucero, a psychologist, have been called upon by the National Bureau of Investigations to help with a new investigation. The eviscerated body of a young boy has been found in a dumpster in Payatas, one of the poorest outskirts neighbourhoods of the metro. And this isn't the first such victim. The nature of the murders is such that the priests are spurred into action, but with the overloaded police personnel, lack of modern databases, and other, “richer” priorities, the proceedings aren’t as quick as desired. But a deadly deadline looms…
The story comes to us in a third-person omniscient perspective, with a couple of small first-person interludes from an unknown character.
Bookish Yays:
👏🏻 An OwnVoices Filipino crime drama. First of its kind. Unique in its concept. Brutally honest in its portrayal. Yay!
👏🏻 Frs. Gus and Jerome - the fabulous Jesuit duo at the helm of the story. The friendship between them despite their age difference seems so genuine! I loved how the two bantered with each other and understood each other perfectly.
👏🏻 The combination of priest + investigator – strange but it works! I found it impressive that there is not a single scene with the priests praying to God to help them solve the case faster. While there are a few biblical verses, their investigation is conducted more with their heads than through divine intervention. God helps those who help themselves, after all.
👏🏻 The depiction of the crimes. Not a happy Yay, but a sombre one, doffing a hat at the hardhitting portrayal. The plot gets you to really *feel* for the victims, even at an individual level. Do note that the murders are quite graphic and there is no attempt to tone down the brutality on page. I felt quite queasy at the start. However, I didn’t find the writing gratuitous, just unfiltered.
👏🏻 The investigative hurdles, be it the struggles of solving crimes without modern technical support such as online databases, cameras, DNA testing, and so on, or the police inefficiency either due to apathy or work overload. The investigation proceeds through the old-fashioned way: sheer manual drudgery and grind work combined with instinct and brains. The pre-tech-era feel is recreated wonderfully.
👏🏻 The subplot connected to a scandal concerning Catholic priests and their abuse of power. Never at the forefront of the core plot, and yet dominant enough to leave a mark. I would never agree with the solution resorted to in the book, but I totally agree with its accuracy.
👏🏻 The Filipino setting. From overcrowded Manila to poverty-stricken Payatas, the book brings the place alive without resorting to unnecessary exaggeration or biased reporting. I looked up a few OwnVoices reviews to check if the author had resorted to stereotyping. Coming from India and seeing what distortions many expat Indian authors have made in their fictional depiction of this complex country, I am wary of jumping to conclusions about a country based on one book. Happy to report that the Filipino reviews I could locate found the depiction of the location, culture, and the attitude accurate. I will always appreciate unbiased OwnVoices writing, especially one that is truthful without being preachy.
👏🏻 The depiction of the unwritten hierarchy in investigative importance, a concept rarely covered in books but often seen in reality. Whose death counts as necessary and whose is dispensable? Whose death will get all the attention and whose death will not even generate a squeak from those in power? A question that has been raised many times across the world, and portrayed excellently in this story.
👏🏻 The ending. Damn! I can’t say I didn’t see it coming, but it still shook me. I wish one particular development hadn’t occurred, but that adds to the realism of the story.
Bookish Mixed Bags:
🤞🏻 The book is promoted everywhere as a mystery, but honestly, if you pick this up as a mystery or even as a police procedural, it falls flat. After a point, we readers already know the identity of the criminal, and just need to wait and see how the priests catch up. The proceedings are fairly straightforward. But if you read this as a socio-political drama highlighting the crime scene and the social disparity in Manila, this book will deliver, and how!
🤞🏻 The secondary characters are intriguingly sketched. For every single character, major or minor or tertiary, we get a little glimpse into their personal life, helping us know them just a little better. At the same time, this also leads to too much of character background info. Disappointingly, except for one journalist and one doctor in somewhat small roles, there is no female character of note.
Bookish Nays:
👎🏻 Just one Nay, but a major one. The editing. The character development, the social depiction, and the few descriptive inclusions are all spot on. But viewed from a technical angle, the book needed much finetuning. The biggest problem was the constant head-hopping across characters, making the third-person narrative feel jumpy. Many important details aren’t specified. We see the why of the crime but never the how, further confirming that this shouldn’t be read as a crime thriller. We also never get to know how a priest can work with a university as a forensic anthropologist; how do the two worlds (religious and scientific) work in unison? I wish there had been greater clarity on this intriguing mash-up. The audiobook mentions the time indicator as 1997 a couple of times in the initial quarter; the ebook has no mention of the year at all! I would have read this as a contemporary mystery and been befuddled at how antiquated it felt, had I not had the audiobook to correct my assumption. Also, would a priest own a cell phone in 1997?
🎧 The Audiobook Experience:
The audiobook, clocking at 10 hrs 45 min, is narrated by Ramón de Ocampo. He is brilliant! There are so many male characters in the story, but through a subtle change in voice and tone, he manages to make each of them sound distinct. For the few female characters, he just goes soft without going nasal or high-pitched. As most of the book (barring the first few chapters) comes in a linear narrative, I’d definitely advocate the audio version as a great way of experiencing this story.
Overall, despite my disappointment at the frequent head-jumping, I was hooked by the grittiness of this story. Luckily, I am a bigger fan of dramatic storylines than mysteries, so the fact that the actual mystery in the book was somewhat straightforward didn’t bother me much. I didn’t expect the book to be so sad, but it manages to wring out a multitude of emotions.
This is a debut work, widely considered the first Filipino crime novel. (Wonder how! Did no one write crime in the Philippines prior to 1996?) Originally written as a novella, it was the winner of the 2002 Philippine National Book Award in this format. The extended full-length version was published by Soho Crime in 2015. It is amply clear that the writer is talented, but probably needed more writing experience. I wouldn’t say no to more works by her.
Recommended, yes. But only to those who would like a plot focussing more on the characters than on the crime. If you read this, let it not be wanting a police procedural or a crime thriller or a murder mystery (even though the story centres around major crimes.) Rather, read it for a tiny but honest glimpse into the Philippines, its general mindset and struggles.
3.5 stars. (As a mystery, 2.5 stars. As a realistic OwnVoices work, 4.5 stars. Averaged and rounding up for the audio version.)
Content Warnings: (Note that these contain major spoilers.)
Graphic murders, body mutilation, teen pregnancy, marital rape, paedophilia, sex abuse scandals in the church, poverty, classism.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Connect with me through:
My Blog || The StoryGraph || Instagram || Facebook ||
January 26, 2013
Kudos to F. H. Batacan for writing the only contemporary detective Filipino novel in English. She, who now resides in Singapore, made a breakthrough with this book as it proved that Filipinos do read and appreciate good books outside our usual genres: love, romance, family drama, humor, politics and comics.
Well, aside from the fact this book being a required reading in some colleges particularly in Philippine Literature courses, I think there are still some of us who read this for pleasure. I think Filipinos reading our local books are not still not totally extinct.
The book is a legitimate mystery-detective-crime novel. I would not say that it is at par as those of Agatha Christie's, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's or Raymond Chandler's. Still it is quite a good try especially as it is Batacan's debut novel. The first half is very interesting. Characters are built thoroughly, the milieu is described vividly, the situation is clear and engaging, the prose is direct and almost no frills. Almost because the irritating phrases in different languages spoken by one of the secondary characters are proven, in the end, to have no purpose but for Batacan (is she a polygot?) to show off. The type of killing of the unknown (in the first half) serial killer is also too close to what has been shown in the 1991 Oscar Best Picture winner, The Silence of the Lambs.
The second half of the books seems to have been rushed through. It is as if Batacan took a sweet time going through her first half and she is afraid to exceed the prescribed number of pages so she just tied up the loose ends haphazardly. Too bad because she is able to engage me thoroughly in the first half only to pique interest in the second. The identity of the author is also revealed too early, i.e., right at the start of the second half that is atypical of the writing convention for mystery novels. That made the last few pages anti-climactic if not unneeded.
Overall, again, this is a breakthrough book. I had never read something like this in the Philippine literature until now. I hope to read more Batacan novels very soon.
Thank you, Kristel for giving me a copy of this book. Mabuhay ka!
Well, aside from the fact this book being a required reading in some colleges particularly in Philippine Literature courses, I think there are still some of us who read this for pleasure. I think Filipinos reading our local books are not still not totally extinct.
The book is a legitimate mystery-detective-crime novel. I would not say that it is at par as those of Agatha Christie's, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's or Raymond Chandler's. Still it is quite a good try especially as it is Batacan's debut novel. The first half is very interesting. Characters are built thoroughly, the milieu is described vividly, the situation is clear and engaging, the prose is direct and almost no frills. Almost because the irritating phrases in different languages spoken by one of the secondary characters are proven, in the end, to have no purpose but for Batacan (is she a polygot?) to show off. The type of killing of the unknown (in the first half) serial killer is also too close to what has been shown in the 1991 Oscar Best Picture winner, The Silence of the Lambs.
The second half of the books seems to have been rushed through. It is as if Batacan took a sweet time going through her first half and she is afraid to exceed the prescribed number of pages so she just tied up the loose ends haphazardly. Too bad because she is able to engage me thoroughly in the first half only to pique interest in the second. The identity of the author is also revealed too early, i.e., right at the start of the second half that is atypical of the writing convention for mystery novels. That made the last few pages anti-climactic if not unneeded.
Overall, again, this is a breakthrough book. I had never read something like this in the Philippine literature until now. I hope to read more Batacan novels very soon.
Thank you, Kristel for giving me a copy of this book. Mabuhay ka!
Read
January 19, 2016The thing about voraciously reading mystery/crime/suspense is that while you still enjoy the books, you inevitably hit a wall where you’re rarely surprised and you can easily guess all the tropes to come. So color me happily surprised to start reading Smaller and Smaller Circles to discover two Jesuit priests (a forensic anthropologist and psychologist) are asked to consult in order to help identify and stop a serial killer—definitely one I’ve never read before. This book was dark, smart, took me to the Philippines, had a fantastic relationship between two priests, AND being set in an impoverished community not only are the priests dealing with corruption but there aren’t labs and machines and technologies that quickly take the evidence and point to a suspect. If you’re a fan of mystery/crime/suspense and regularly find yourself watching true crime/Dateline you won’t want to miss this book. — Jamie Canaves
from The Best Books We Read In December: http://bookriot.com/2015/12/23/riot-r...
from The Best Books We Read In December: http://bookriot.com/2015/12/23/riot-r...
May 24, 2022
First Sentence: Some days I just can’t seem to focus.
The body of a young boy is found in Payatas, a massive dump where people, especially young boys, scavenge for their existence. The severely mutilated body has been brought to Father Gus Saenz, a Jesuit priest and respected forensic anthropologist. However, this isn’t a singular case and Father Gus, along with his friend, psychologist Father Jerome Lucero, is asked by the Director of the National Bureau of Investigation to help find the killer.
One should not bypass the initial page, or the subsequent transition pages, as these provide insight and a bit of humanity to the killer and, in fact, add to the story’s suspense. However, this is also one of those times when the prologue really works. In the midst of horror, there is note of tenderness and caring which establishes the tone of the story.
Batacan has created a strong cast of characters. Father Gus is frustrated by the Church turning a blind eye to a pedophile priest, Father Jerome who started as Saenz’ student and is now his friend; Director Lastimosa, the elderly head of the NBI, the very egotistic and ambitious Attorney Ben Arcinas, and reporter Joanna Bonifacio who was also a former student of Saenz. The combination works to bring the story truly to life, and the animosity between some of the characters is palpable; a sign of excellent writing.
It is interesting to learn about the culture and policing in the Philippines. One can’t help but notice the focus on bathing and snacks, but we also learn of the complete inadequacy of their record keeping, technology, and inability to deal with missing persons. Much of that goes to explaining why the Director of the NBI would turn to the Father Saenz for help.
The author’s descriptions are so well done yet often difficult to read…”the man’s left shoulder touches the woman’s right one, but the corresponding hops don’t touch, as though they’re used to leaving room there for a child…”, particularly when dealing the sights and smells of the dump as contrasted by the evening at the opera with the elite. The contrast is very well done. Batacan’s inclusion of the meeting with the mothers and families of the child victims lends a poignancy and humanity to the story.
There are three, equally important, threads to the story; the murders, political power-mongering, and the irresponsibility of the Church’s insufficient handling of internal corruption and criminality; particularly pedophilia. The forensic information is fascinating. It also provides a very small look into the dictatorship under which the Philippines had previously lived.
Batacan’s dialogue is so well done. The very natural…”You have to wonder what ones on in people’s heads.” “No, I don’t,” Saenz says, pouring Jerome a cup of coffee. “And I’m a much happier man for it. Come, sit, sit. No use complaining about the world’s free press-we fought for it, we got it, now we have to live with the nonsense that it spews out.”, and often humorous, exchanges between the two priests provides much-needed lightness to a very dark story, and solidifies the close friendship between the two men.
While many may guess the identity of the killer, and the events of the climax are rather unsurprising, it is very powerful, effective, moving and not without a good degree of suspense. The offshoot is sadly common everywhere, yet confirms that we must hope, always hope, for change.
“Smaller and Smaller Circles” is a very good, well-written book, and one which is a very affecting read.
SMALLER AND SMALLER CIRCLES (Myst-FF Saenz and Lucero-Manila-Contemp) - VG+
Batacan, F.H. – 1st book
Soho Crime – Aug, 2015
The body of a young boy is found in Payatas, a massive dump where people, especially young boys, scavenge for their existence. The severely mutilated body has been brought to Father Gus Saenz, a Jesuit priest and respected forensic anthropologist. However, this isn’t a singular case and Father Gus, along with his friend, psychologist Father Jerome Lucero, is asked by the Director of the National Bureau of Investigation to help find the killer.
One should not bypass the initial page, or the subsequent transition pages, as these provide insight and a bit of humanity to the killer and, in fact, add to the story’s suspense. However, this is also one of those times when the prologue really works. In the midst of horror, there is note of tenderness and caring which establishes the tone of the story.
Batacan has created a strong cast of characters. Father Gus is frustrated by the Church turning a blind eye to a pedophile priest, Father Jerome who started as Saenz’ student and is now his friend; Director Lastimosa, the elderly head of the NBI, the very egotistic and ambitious Attorney Ben Arcinas, and reporter Joanna Bonifacio who was also a former student of Saenz. The combination works to bring the story truly to life, and the animosity between some of the characters is palpable; a sign of excellent writing.
It is interesting to learn about the culture and policing in the Philippines. One can’t help but notice the focus on bathing and snacks, but we also learn of the complete inadequacy of their record keeping, technology, and inability to deal with missing persons. Much of that goes to explaining why the Director of the NBI would turn to the Father Saenz for help.
The author’s descriptions are so well done yet often difficult to read…”the man’s left shoulder touches the woman’s right one, but the corresponding hops don’t touch, as though they’re used to leaving room there for a child…”, particularly when dealing the sights and smells of the dump as contrasted by the evening at the opera with the elite. The contrast is very well done. Batacan’s inclusion of the meeting with the mothers and families of the child victims lends a poignancy and humanity to the story.
There are three, equally important, threads to the story; the murders, political power-mongering, and the irresponsibility of the Church’s insufficient handling of internal corruption and criminality; particularly pedophilia. The forensic information is fascinating. It also provides a very small look into the dictatorship under which the Philippines had previously lived.
Batacan’s dialogue is so well done. The very natural…”You have to wonder what ones on in people’s heads.” “No, I don’t,” Saenz says, pouring Jerome a cup of coffee. “And I’m a much happier man for it. Come, sit, sit. No use complaining about the world’s free press-we fought for it, we got it, now we have to live with the nonsense that it spews out.”, and often humorous, exchanges between the two priests provides much-needed lightness to a very dark story, and solidifies the close friendship between the two men.
While many may guess the identity of the killer, and the events of the climax are rather unsurprising, it is very powerful, effective, moving and not without a good degree of suspense. The offshoot is sadly common everywhere, yet confirms that we must hope, always hope, for change.
“Smaller and Smaller Circles” is a very good, well-written book, and one which is a very affecting read.
SMALLER AND SMALLER CIRCLES (Myst-FF Saenz and Lucero-Manila-Contemp) - VG+
Batacan, F.H. – 1st book
Soho Crime – Aug, 2015
May 18, 2019
This was definitely more thriller than mystery. I don't make much time for thrillers because I find myself with other things in front of me, so this was a rather huge departure from my usual fare. The priests are in a race to find the serial killer before he kills again. The murders are rather grisly. The GR description uses the word "eviscerated" which is less graphic than the words used in the book.
The prose is better than I might have expected and the plot good enough though perhaps not fabulous. I think the characterizations a bit lacking. I was happy that a GR friend found this to complete this season's Awards by Country challenge and that I could take the opportunity as well. I wanted to keep turning the pages. I waffle between 3- and 4-stars, and because of the prose and also some change in voice throughout, I'll tip to the higher number.
After the last page is the author's acknowledgements. In it she writes:
The prose is better than I might have expected and the plot good enough though perhaps not fabulous. I think the characterizations a bit lacking. I was happy that a GR friend found this to complete this season's Awards by Country challenge and that I could take the opportunity as well. I wanted to keep turning the pages. I waffle between 3- and 4-stars, and because of the prose and also some change in voice throughout, I'll tip to the higher number.
After the last page is the author's acknowledgements. In it she writes:
The first time I wrote this book—in 1996, when I was in my mid-twenties—I was angry: angry about my job, about the state of my country, about the callousness, complacency, and corruption that had dragged it there.If what she writes is anywhere near "the state of my country, about the callousness, complacency, and corruption that had dragged it there" (and I think it was), she had a right to be angry. The anger comes through. It makes me angry to think such conditions exist. We have a small, but distinct, filipino community in my town. They are good, hard-working people, and a close knit community. Most of them send money home to the Philippines every month, supporting not only family here but helping to support family "back home". I'm sure it is appreciated.
The second time I wrote this book—in 2013, in my forties, having moved back home with my infant son—I found myself even angrier: about the state of my country, which seemed even worse than it was in 1996, and about the callousness, complacency, and corruption that kept it there.
November 27, 2011
10-9-8...A circle is formed in the middle of the ground. Those found outside are dead. Ravaged by unknown beings in the darkness. Those that remain in the circle lives.
7-6-5… But the circle grows small. More and more people fall off the edge and is smothered by the dark flames. Makes you want to think, "Is this hell?" But the silence in the darkness just covers your voice. You squeak now, and then you realize, all that remains is you, alone. The circle continues to shrink below your feet until I does not even fit your own shadow. You wanted to seek your own corner and hide there for eternity. But the curves tell you other wise.
4-3...The circle suffocates you now. Heaving, large drops of sweat falls. Heaving.
2-1… SCREAM!
Zero. Wake up now! It was a dream after all. You sigh in relief. A relaxed smile forms, the corner of your eyes blurs with tears readying to fall. You may laugh now, you tell yourself. It was only a dream, you comfort yourself. But your laughter is drawn in by an unexplainable thing. You see, a circle is forming in the ground.
You can't run away.
The circle has no end.
Before I considered surrendering myself to being a physician, I wanted to become a forensic psychologist and this book dissected the two in creating the main characters. A Psychologist and an Anthropologist. Odd, they had to be priests, so can't really try crushing on them without feeling any guilt. But I love them anyway.
So how could two religious people do a job that called for science? The curious one in me savored the complexity of their character development, I see how they err as humans and see their divinity in the end. And I was equally satisfied by the supporting casts. I liked the twist in the mind of the suspect and the attempt of his family for retribution. The only person I was seriously doubting regarding her role is the reporter. Her existence in the story, even after knowing her prestigious background does not contribute anything in the plot, except maybe for having a third party to witness the relationship dynamics of the two priests. This book is well written and well researched. Even the contrast of the settings from Payatas to the rich subdivisions of Makati was well portrayed. A story set to thrill you, although not quite to stir you in your dreams but real enough because of the scene's familiarity, these are its strong points. And when you least expect it,
the circles, they come.
7-6-5… But the circle grows small. More and more people fall off the edge and is smothered by the dark flames. Makes you want to think, "Is this hell?" But the silence in the darkness just covers your voice. You squeak now, and then you realize, all that remains is you, alone. The circle continues to shrink below your feet until I does not even fit your own shadow. You wanted to seek your own corner and hide there for eternity. But the curves tell you other wise.
4-3...The circle suffocates you now. Heaving, large drops of sweat falls. Heaving.
2-1… SCREAM!
Zero. Wake up now! It was a dream after all. You sigh in relief. A relaxed smile forms, the corner of your eyes blurs with tears readying to fall. You may laugh now, you tell yourself. It was only a dream, you comfort yourself. But your laughter is drawn in by an unexplainable thing. You see, a circle is forming in the ground.
You can't run away.
The circle has no end.
Before I considered surrendering myself to being a physician, I wanted to become a forensic psychologist and this book dissected the two in creating the main characters. A Psychologist and an Anthropologist. Odd, they had to be priests, so can't really try crushing on them without feeling any guilt. But I love them anyway.
So how could two religious people do a job that called for science? The curious one in me savored the complexity of their character development, I see how they err as humans and see their divinity in the end. And I was equally satisfied by the supporting casts. I liked the twist in the mind of the suspect and the attempt of his family for retribution. The only person I was seriously doubting regarding her role is the reporter. Her existence in the story, even after knowing her prestigious background does not contribute anything in the plot, except maybe for having a third party to witness the relationship dynamics of the two priests. This book is well written and well researched. Even the contrast of the settings from Payatas to the rich subdivisions of Makati was well portrayed. A story set to thrill you, although not quite to stir you in your dreams but real enough because of the scene's familiarity, these are its strong points. And when you least expect it,
the circles, they come.
December 24, 2015
Maybe it is because I really was in the mood for a mystery/thriller or maybe it is because I reached the epic ending of the book the night of a thunderstorm, but man that was a good book. Definitely some unevenness and shows the signs of being a debut novel, but still really good. Watch my full review: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wImCI...
February 10, 2017
Smaller and Smaller Circles is one of those rare one-of-a-kind books that you discover by some lucky stroke of fate and treasure for a lifetime.
This probably sounds like an exaggeration, but it's certainly true for me because:
1. It's written by a Filipino author. We don't exactly have a bazillion authors here spewing out books of all kinds for us to read every day. (Well, I suppose Wattpad stories are all the craze nowadays, but I'm not part of the target audience and am not interested in reading any of them for now.) In this third world country where finding a practical job is the norm, there aren't exactly a lot of people writing fiction (although, again, this seems to be changing because of those Wattpad stories). So when you find a good fiction novel written by a Filipino, it's definitely a nice surprise.
2. It's a crime novel. Do you know how many crime novels I've heard about or read that were written by Filipinos? I can think of probably less than five at the top of my head...and I know my Pinoy lit knowledge is limited. However, at a recent Meet the Author event I attended with friends, the Pinoy author we talked to mentioned that we severely lack novels in the crime genre.
3. It's not just a crime novel, but one that fits perfectly in the Philippine setting. It deals with a serial murder that occurs in the slums and the descriptions are so vivid that I could imagine myself trudging through Payatas along with the priest and the children in the midday sun, amidst the heat and the smell, right up to the part where they discover the first body. The revulsion and horror is so real that I had to close my eyes for a minute to calm down.
Smaller and Smaller Circles gave me chills. It wasn't just the murders and the gruesome way they were carried out. It wasn't the fact that the victims were kids, dying, one after another, while people struggled to find out who the killer was before he got another one. It wasn't just the psychological mindfuckery that made my head reel.
It was the reality of it all too. The claims that while the government declares there are no serial murders in the Philippines, how could one ever be sure this is true when people are constantly covering up shit to save their asses? The incompetent policemen, red tape, the politicians who would do whatever it takes to become famous instead of preventing more murders. Those priorities, man. Ugh. The few brilliant people who would do anything to prevent another murder, only to be thwarted by idiots with more power and ambition but have no care for justice. The poor people who had nothing, could do nothing even if murders occurred in their backyards. People who would turn their heads the other way because they were helpless or knew nothing would be done for them because they were nobodies. There was so much truth in the social setting that it disgusted me and made me tear up at the same time. This is fiction, yes, but it's so realistic that it hurts.
This book isn't good just because it's a Philippine crime novel. This isn't a "love-and-promote-your-own" sort of thing. Okay, maybe it is, but I only appreciate things that are worth it. And it's more than that. The fact that it makes you think about the truth it represents makes it one helluva book.
The plot itself sucks you in. Despite the fact that I'd already guessed who the killer was early on, I was still thoroughly enthralled by the book. The writing, the twists and turns, the quirky priests-slash-forensic-scientists (!!! That's certainly an interesting protagonist in the world of crime, don't you think?), the killer himself were all interesting and well-written.
However, it's the truth about the justice system that speaks out loudest to me and stays with me, although it's been a while since I read this book.
The justice system in the Philippines is weak. You only have to look at cases like the Maguindanao massacre, a terrible incident that happened in 2009, which still has not been resolved, despite all the evidence and media coverage. Shit, we've got news of witnesses getting ambushed and killed. (Paging the witness protection program, if you exist or whatever, you're doing a shitty job.) Or a case such as the Vizconde massacre, where the suspects were proclaimed guilty, only to be acquitted several years later.
While one cannot proclaim who is guilty or not, the niggling thought that cases can go on for years and years without being resolved is...disappointing. Sad. Horrifying. Families suffer through this shit for years. And those examples are crimes that have suspects and witnesses and evidence. We're talking about cases that are high-profile because the suspects or victims are famous, and thus reported by the media. What about the cases where common people are kidnapped, raped, or murdered? Do their families ever get justice, closure? Is justice ever truly served in our country?
These are the kind of thoughts you get from reading this book. It makes you uneasy. It definitely doesn't help you sleep at night, because the knowledge that you aren't as safe as you thought you were and the probable lack of justice should you ever be a victim (Heaven forbid) is just too terrible to think about. But it's an eye-opener, and while the truth is terrible, at least you've become more aware of how shitty the world can be.
Apparently, a new publication of this book will be out on August 18, 2015. I'm not sure if it's going to be different from the original story or not. But I will definitely bestalking watching the bookstores until I find a copy to call my own.
This review can also be found on my blog, Lambent Lights.
This probably sounds like an exaggeration, but it's certainly true for me because:
1. It's written by a Filipino author. We don't exactly have a bazillion authors here spewing out books of all kinds for us to read every day. (Well, I suppose Wattpad stories are all the craze nowadays, but I'm not part of the target audience and am not interested in reading any of them for now.) In this third world country where finding a practical job is the norm, there aren't exactly a lot of people writing fiction (although, again, this seems to be changing because of those Wattpad stories). So when you find a good fiction novel written by a Filipino, it's definitely a nice surprise.
2. It's a crime novel. Do you know how many crime novels I've heard about or read that were written by Filipinos? I can think of probably less than five at the top of my head...and I know my Pinoy lit knowledge is limited. However, at a recent Meet the Author event I attended with friends, the Pinoy author we talked to mentioned that we severely lack novels in the crime genre.
3. It's not just a crime novel, but one that fits perfectly in the Philippine setting. It deals with a serial murder that occurs in the slums and the descriptions are so vivid that I could imagine myself trudging through Payatas along with the priest and the children in the midday sun, amidst the heat and the smell, right up to the part where they discover the first body. The revulsion and horror is so real that I had to close my eyes for a minute to calm down.
Smaller and Smaller Circles gave me chills. It wasn't just the murders and the gruesome way they were carried out. It wasn't the fact that the victims were kids, dying, one after another, while people struggled to find out who the killer was before he got another one. It wasn't just the psychological mindfuckery that made my head reel.
It was the reality of it all too. The claims that while the government declares there are no serial murders in the Philippines, how could one ever be sure this is true when people are constantly covering up shit to save their asses? The incompetent policemen, red tape, the politicians who would do whatever it takes to become famous instead of preventing more murders. Those priorities, man. Ugh. The few brilliant people who would do anything to prevent another murder, only to be thwarted by idiots with more power and ambition but have no care for justice. The poor people who had nothing, could do nothing even if murders occurred in their backyards. People who would turn their heads the other way because they were helpless or knew nothing would be done for them because they were nobodies. There was so much truth in the social setting that it disgusted me and made me tear up at the same time. This is fiction, yes, but it's so realistic that it hurts.
This book isn't good just because it's a Philippine crime novel. This isn't a "love-and-promote-your-own" sort of thing. Okay, maybe it is, but I only appreciate things that are worth it. And it's more than that. The fact that it makes you think about the truth it represents makes it one helluva book.
The plot itself sucks you in. Despite the fact that I'd already guessed who the killer was early on, I was still thoroughly enthralled by the book. The writing, the twists and turns, the quirky priests-slash-forensic-scientists (!!! That's certainly an interesting protagonist in the world of crime, don't you think?), the killer himself were all interesting and well-written.
However, it's the truth about the justice system that speaks out loudest to me and stays with me, although it's been a while since I read this book.
The justice system in the Philippines is weak. You only have to look at cases like the Maguindanao massacre, a terrible incident that happened in 2009, which still has not been resolved, despite all the evidence and media coverage. Shit, we've got news of witnesses getting ambushed and killed. (Paging the witness protection program, if you exist or whatever, you're doing a shitty job.) Or a case such as the Vizconde massacre, where the suspects were proclaimed guilty, only to be acquitted several years later.
While one cannot proclaim who is guilty or not, the niggling thought that cases can go on for years and years without being resolved is...disappointing. Sad. Horrifying. Families suffer through this shit for years. And those examples are crimes that have suspects and witnesses and evidence. We're talking about cases that are high-profile because the suspects or victims are famous, and thus reported by the media. What about the cases where common people are kidnapped, raped, or murdered? Do their families ever get justice, closure? Is justice ever truly served in our country?
These are the kind of thoughts you get from reading this book. It makes you uneasy. It definitely doesn't help you sleep at night, because the knowledge that you aren't as safe as you thought you were and the probable lack of justice should you ever be a victim (Heaven forbid) is just too terrible to think about. But it's an eye-opener, and while the truth is terrible, at least you've become more aware of how shitty the world can be.
Apparently, a new publication of this book will be out on August 18, 2015. I'm not sure if it's going to be different from the original story or not. But I will definitely be
This review can also be found on my blog, Lambent Lights.
January 7, 2017
3 stars - It was good.
A fairly predictable mystery, but I really enjoyed the Filipino cultural inclusions in the novel. I had also never read a murder mystery where Jesuit priests are collaborating with the police to solve a case, which made for an intriguing juxtaposition.
-------------------------------------------
Favorite Quote: We are powerless when we wait for other people to act on our behalf.
First Sentence: Emil is running after his slum kids, panting in the noonday sun, loosening the high collar of his shirt as he goes.
A fairly predictable mystery, but I really enjoyed the Filipino cultural inclusions in the novel. I had also never read a murder mystery where Jesuit priests are collaborating with the police to solve a case, which made for an intriguing juxtaposition.
-------------------------------------------
Favorite Quote: We are powerless when we wait for other people to act on our behalf.
First Sentence: Emil is running after his slum kids, panting in the noonday sun, loosening the high collar of his shirt as he goes.
August 31, 2025
Pobednik filipinske knjige godine i navodni prvi krimić filipinske književnosti. Pročitao za dan, kako to svaki dobar krimić ište (i to na plaži). E sad, zbog prirode žanra to ne govori uvek o kvalitetu knjige, ali drago mi je da potvrdim da je ovo prilično dobar roman.
Iz perspektive dva sveštenika, pratimo serijskog ubicu. I u prvoj polovini to sve deluje veoma tipično i šablonski, da ne kažem dosadno. Definitivno ne posebno književno (otud i moja prvobitna konfuzija nagradom). Ali u drugoj polovini izmili umetnost iz teksta. U empatičnim, fragmentarnim perspektivama. U ponašanju sporednih likova koji prate ritam okorelog, nazubljenog sistema. U osećaju mesta, kao klasnog kaleidoskopa filipinskog društva. Kraj je takođe atipičan, no da ne kvarim.
U pogovoru, autorka kaže da je knjigu napisala iz srditosti ka sistemu u dva navrata razdvojenih dobrim godinama. I to se vidi. To je ono što ovo štivo čini posebnim. Ljutnja i nežnost, kao dve strane odbačenog novčića.
4
Iz perspektive dva sveštenika, pratimo serijskog ubicu. I u prvoj polovini to sve deluje veoma tipično i šablonski, da ne kažem dosadno. Definitivno ne posebno književno (otud i moja prvobitna konfuzija nagradom). Ali u drugoj polovini izmili umetnost iz teksta. U empatičnim, fragmentarnim perspektivama. U ponašanju sporednih likova koji prate ritam okorelog, nazubljenog sistema. U osećaju mesta, kao klasnog kaleidoskopa filipinskog društva. Kraj je takođe atipičan, no da ne kvarim.
U pogovoru, autorka kaže da je knjigu napisala iz srditosti ka sistemu u dva navrata razdvojenih dobrim godinama. I to se vidi. To je ono što ovo štivo čini posebnim. Ljutnja i nežnost, kao dve strane odbačenog novčića.
4
September 20, 2022
همهجای دنیا، آسمان همین رنگ است. خاکستری تیره.
January 31, 2023
This month has accidentally been the month of East/South East Asian books for me, and they've all been SO good so far (except you, Launch Something!, but we don't talk about you) and this one is no exception.
Smaller and Smaller Circles might be one of my favourite crime novels. It's not really a mystery, per se, but it is a thriller and a psychological study not only of the killer and other characters in question, but the very foundations of Filipino society: the government and the Church.
The writing is also exceptional. The two crime-solving priests, Saenz and Jerome, have excellent chemistry together that made me laugh out loud a couple of times despite the overall dark tone of the book.
I just wish this novel was more well-known outside the Philippines. It deserves to be on shelves everywhere! I only knew about it because I'm half-Filipino and made a concerted effort to find Filipino books.
Smaller and Smaller Circles might be one of my favourite crime novels. It's not really a mystery, per se, but it is a thriller and a psychological study not only of the killer and other characters in question, but the very foundations of Filipino society: the government and the Church.
The writing is also exceptional. The two crime-solving priests, Saenz and Jerome, have excellent chemistry together that made me laugh out loud a couple of times despite the overall dark tone of the book.
I just wish this novel was more well-known outside the Philippines. It deserves to be on shelves everywhere! I only knew about it because I'm half-Filipino and made a concerted effort to find Filipino books.
January 24, 2013
Masterpiece!...exciting, moving, amusing, and intense in chasing the killer.
For me this is like the Filipino version of Silence of the Lamb, Hannibal Lecter, and the movie Identity starring John Cusack.
The plot is good and descriptive about the events.
Recommended for science and medical field topics.
For me this is like the Filipino version of Silence of the Lamb, Hannibal Lecter, and the movie Identity starring John Cusack.
The plot is good and descriptive about the events.
Recommended for science and medical field topics.
July 11, 2013
I like Smaller and Smaller Circles.
... So I must have read or watched too many crime stories already, because this was just okay for me. But considering that a Filipino author penned Smaller and Smaller Circles, I will admit it was a little impressive.
Two Jesuit priests are being consulted over a series of murders in the slums of Manila. They do have credentials as consultants, I think the background is anthropology..? Anyway, the victims are boys within the cusp of puberty. As soon as they went missing, it won't be long before they found the grisly, mutilated bodies lying blatantly in the slums.
It's a short read, and I liked that I did not feel shortchanged with the story. I liked the gore, on how the killer went on his ritual with his victims. I liked the back story too, on how the priests were able to profile the killer. I guess it did not just struck me as unique or inventive. Like I said, I was already too immersed with Dexter, Criminal Minds, and CSI to really enjoy the novelty of Smaller and Smaller Circles.
I might still recommend it, but if you are a hard-core fan of bloody murders, psychotic killers, and insane killing rituals like me, this will be just an ordinary "murder scene investigation".
... So I must have read or watched too many crime stories already, because this was just okay for me. But considering that a Filipino author penned Smaller and Smaller Circles, I will admit it was a little impressive.
Two Jesuit priests are being consulted over a series of murders in the slums of Manila. They do have credentials as consultants, I think the background is anthropology..? Anyway, the victims are boys within the cusp of puberty. As soon as they went missing, it won't be long before they found the grisly, mutilated bodies lying blatantly in the slums.
It's a short read, and I liked that I did not feel shortchanged with the story. I liked the gore, on how the killer went on his ritual with his victims. I liked the back story too, on how the priests were able to profile the killer. I guess it did not just struck me as unique or inventive. Like I said, I was already too immersed with Dexter, Criminal Minds, and CSI to really enjoy the novelty of Smaller and Smaller Circles.
I might still recommend it, but if you are a hard-core fan of bloody murders, psychotic killers, and insane killing rituals like me, this will be just an ordinary "murder scene investigation".
March 14, 2018
This is an intriguing mystery set in the burroughs of Manila, Philippines. Two Jesuit priests, a medical anthropologist (Fr. Saenz) and a psychologist (Fr. Lucero) assist the NBI (the National Bureau of Investigation) with a string of grisly murders taking place in and around a poverty-stricken area surrounded by a municipal trash dump.
The crime story follows the procedural path (it is a pageturner!), but the strength of the book is in the details about Filipino daily life, socioeconomics, and culture. Batacan is a journalist who originally wrote this book in 1996, but updated it in 2013 to reflect the continued "complacency and corruption" that takes place in her home country.
I would definitely read more of her work and her featured characters of Augusto Saenz and Jerome Lucero.
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Read for Book Riot Read Harder 2018 challenge "a mystery written by a person of color"
The crime story follows the procedural path (it is a pageturner!), but the strength of the book is in the details about Filipino daily life, socioeconomics, and culture. Batacan is a journalist who originally wrote this book in 1996, but updated it in 2013 to reflect the continued "complacency and corruption" that takes place in her home country.
I would definitely read more of her work and her featured characters of Augusto Saenz and Jerome Lucero.
---
Read for Book Riot Read Harder 2018 challenge "a mystery written by a person of color"
May 2, 2019
I like this police procedural novel for the social and cultural aspects. Set in the Philippines, it illuminates the lives of Manila's poor and its stratified society. Plus - the lead investigators are Jesuit priests! But as a crime novel, it is fairly mediocre and at times plods along.
January 29, 2011
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.
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.
August 11, 2020
i read this book for wikathon and im glad that i found a Filipino-authored mystery book! how did i not know about this book sooner? mystery has always been my first love and this one is written by a Filipino author so obviously i jumped into this book as soon as i saw it on scribd.
i have read a lot of mysteries but they didn't strike a chord with me as much as this book did. this was very brilliantly-written and i appreciate how it offered a lot of social commentary about the things happening in the Philippines.
it discussed how rampant poverty is in the country and how it affects families and children in particular. it opened my eyes on how faulty and corrupt the law enforcement is and it chilled me to know that the prospect of having a serial killer in the country isn't so far-fetched but because of the incompetence of law enforcement, crimes like this just get swept under the rug. it also touches on the corruption of the Church and how the crimes of priests get covered up without concrete repercussions. most of all, it talked about abuse and molestation and how harmful it is that these topics are still considered taboo in the country.
yes, this book was disturbing because it unflinchingly discusses a lot of sensitive topics but that makes it even more poignant. it was also interesting to follow priests as protagonists.
i think i would have given this book four stars if i read this physically because of the pacing, but the audiobook made my reading experience engaging. i also think this book deserves all the stars it can get for giving me a memorable and contemplative reading journey.
i have read a lot of mysteries but they didn't strike a chord with me as much as this book did. this was very brilliantly-written and i appreciate how it offered a lot of social commentary about the things happening in the Philippines.
it discussed how rampant poverty is in the country and how it affects families and children in particular. it opened my eyes on how faulty and corrupt the law enforcement is and it chilled me to know that the prospect of having a serial killer in the country isn't so far-fetched but because of the incompetence of law enforcement, crimes like this just get swept under the rug. it also touches on the corruption of the Church and how the crimes of priests get covered up without concrete repercussions. most of all, it talked about abuse and molestation and how harmful it is that these topics are still considered taboo in the country.
yes, this book was disturbing because it unflinchingly discusses a lot of sensitive topics but that makes it even more poignant. it was also interesting to follow priests as protagonists.
i think i would have given this book four stars if i read this physically because of the pacing, but the audiobook made my reading experience engaging. i also think this book deserves all the stars it can get for giving me a memorable and contemplative reading journey.
August 3, 2019
I have not read any book about the Philippines, whether fiction or non-fiction, for quite a long time now. It is because most books about the Philippines are either too heavy, too dark, or a mix of both. That is why I stopped searching for Filipino books even if my "to-read" shelf in Goodreads was filled with them. I was just not in the mood for those kinds of books. I mostly likely would never had read this book anytime soon if my school did not require me to read it.
"Smaller and Smaller Circles" is a mystery novel about two Jesuit priests that are trying to learn about the murders that occurred in Payatas, a poverty-stricken district in the Philippines. The two priests are experts in solving terrible crimes. However, they also face difficult obstacles like the complacency and corruption in the government. The novel has a very Filipino atmosphere. The sufferings of the poor, the pursuit of selfish goals in politics, and the lives of the very rich are all shown in this novel. I think this book can give any a reader a picture of the sad realities in the Philippines.
Having lived in the Philippines my entire life, I did not think that I needed to read another book about the sad state of the country. At least not yet. But now that I have finished reading this school-required book, I can now say that I actually liked it. Highly recommended especially if you like the mystery genre or are interested in the Philippines.
"Smaller and Smaller Circles" is a mystery novel about two Jesuit priests that are trying to learn about the murders that occurred in Payatas, a poverty-stricken district in the Philippines. The two priests are experts in solving terrible crimes. However, they also face difficult obstacles like the complacency and corruption in the government. The novel has a very Filipino atmosphere. The sufferings of the poor, the pursuit of selfish goals in politics, and the lives of the very rich are all shown in this novel. I think this book can give any a reader a picture of the sad realities in the Philippines.
Having lived in the Philippines my entire life, I did not think that I needed to read another book about the sad state of the country. At least not yet. But now that I have finished reading this school-required book, I can now say that I actually liked it. Highly recommended especially if you like the mystery genre or are interested in the Philippines.
September 4, 2025
For the first 140 pages, Smaller and Smaller Circles was a great read. For the last 200 pages, it was the only thing that mattered to me until I finished it. My weekend was totally devoted to this story and, after that point, each moment I didn’t spend reading Smaller and Smaller Circles was spent just thinking about how I could get back to reading Smaller and Smaller Circles as soon as possible. Needless to say, I loved this book so much. There are a few stray writing choices I would consider flaws, but it could not dock at all from how excited I am about the novel as a whole. My three favorite aspects I write below:
Yeah, that’s Quezon City
Smaller and Smaller Circles takes place in Quezon City, and one of the best parts of reading this novel is basking in Batacan's full rendering of it.
Recognizing places in a book seems basic and natural, but as a filipiñiana reader, I found that the major weakness of most Filipino writers is that they are unable to place their scene and characters in an actual, tangible place, and ending up totally missing out on the potential to draw gut feelings into their work. So it already stood out to me that this book has real settings, with Batacan vividly writing the spatials of every location to the reader.
More than that, the spaces actually have presence in the work. Each location has a distinct air that shapes the story in the immediate scene and the larger arc. Rains in Katipunan create wet umbrellas and late arrivals; government agencies with minimal budgets operate in run-down offices; crucial, desperate record searches in barangay health clinics unfold inside a small and cramped space; an excessively decorated CCP and posh attendees are insulated from the chaos they create.
Batacan’s debut also shows how setting work is also character work. She wonderfully does the complex Who’s and Wow’s and Why’s of her many characters simply by situating them as how we can find them in real life, giving the reader the characters' manner in their heads and in environment interactions. Places are name-dropped not as cameo, but as a loaded factoid with bearing on the final essence of the plot. Thoughtfully done literary mise-en-scene does a lot of idea development with a lot less showboating.
My favorite instance of the novel's affecting sense of place—and a top five highlight—was the short segment describing the varied lives of the three child victims' mothers. Remembering that part as I'm writing this makes me tear up because, even in short order, Batacan’s portraits of these mothers are so nuanced, empathetic and specific that they feel real. The most important aspect of this style is that this book creates compelling portraits of the truly voiceless Filipinos, shining a light on their experiences to discomfort the comforted, while maintaining their dignity by showing their truth.
Together, this creates a Filipino novel that feels truly lived in. More than just vivid, more than recognizable, the Quezon City (and the wider Metro Manila) in Smaller and Smaller Circles is a breathing, bustling world contained in 368 pages.
Using the Police Procedural
Despite the genre being widely popular and relevant, Smaller and Smaller Circles is the first Filipino police procedural (or in the blurb’s words, “crime fiction”) novel. Perhaps it's because the competent investigative work that is presumed in every crime novel is too out-there for our context. To use the police procedural plot in a Filipino story would require a set-up involving proper police procedure, from the crime scene handling to blotter records. The writer would not be able to lay down the puzzle pieces before breaking audience immersion.
One of F.H. Batacan’s most inspired decisions is that she doesn’t invent an alternate reality with ideal investigative conditions. Instead, her critique of the Philippine justice system is embedded directly into the narrative. Every step of the investigation is slowed—sometimes halted—by the inefficiency and indifference of the very institutions meant to deliver justice. This isn’t just thematic; it’s structural, woven into the pacing and progression of the plot itself.
A specific instance where this happens is the first 140 pages of the novel. This first part has its own antagonist: Director Ben Arcinas, a low-level bureaucrat who was constantly interfering with the investigation. Almost nothing gets done toward finding the serial killer for a long time, and only when Director Arcinas’s plans are nipped in the bud does the search truly begin. In fact, it progresses at a rapid rate, with the serial killer being identified in 123 pages.
The investigation being halted for so long shows the reader how the government’s work can just be totally stupefied when it is run by people who don’t use their position to help citizens, but as a resource to be withheld and used strategically as to accumulate even more for themselves.
There are more instances where the plot deviating from the genre standard is done to make a point. This was the best instance of it, so I discussed it at length. That, and also that I work in government and this was the most painfully relatable section for me because I have met some Director Arcinas’ in real life and their work ethic is not only morally wrong (the book’s point) but also annoying as fuck (my point). Overall, Batacan does a fantastic treatment, conceptually and in execution.
Accountability and Justice
The first 140 pages, centered on Director Arcinas and the NBI, focus on government official accountability. Through scenes filled with his passive-aggressive gestures, evasive dialogue, and undeniable failure, this section builds a palpable tension—enough to make you grind your teeth in frustration. It's absolutely well-done, capped off with a cathartic resolution, perhaps the book’s only instance of fantastical wish-fulfillment. Yet, the book goes far beyond this familiar point.
Batacan takes the question into more difficult territory, elevating the book’s message to the reader from a stab in the dark to a personal challenge. As the two priests get closer to solving the mystery, and struggle through their personal experiences, we are asked the question of accountability with less obvious answers. Mothers and fathers that don’t acknowledge abuse. Friends and peers that gawk at the helpless. Cardinals that prioritize placation than real grace. A country that forgets the people who fought for its democracy. These instances are no longer government mandate but individual citizen responsibility. And so, the book poses the question, in what way have you let injustice happen?
While there are several iterations, the accountability question asked most urgently is the one expressed as outward physical violence. The serial killer was created not by innate genetic monstrosity, but the long-term deference of everyone around him, years of unchecked abuse compounding into a ritual of misplaced anger at being neglected. Seemingly insignificant people with seemingly insignificant decisions are still responsible for the people they are with and the place they are in.
For this reason, I wish more people would read the book. I think that even for my generation and my social group (a.k.a. young Filipino professionals) have already given up on their responsibility to act on the behalf of justice. There’s a string of Socio 101-level excuses that follow every whine of Not Me, blame of others easily assigned and self-reflection shrugged off.
The novel, especially with its interrogation of the serial killer’s poor parents, with its sympathy for the serial killer’s suffering from sexual violence while maintaining his guilt, asserts that accountability does not ask questions of powerlessness or disincentives. It is concerned squarely on our willingness to accept the consequences of our inaction.
Final thoughts
In treading QC’s universities and public schools, dumpsites and gated subdivisions, newsrooms and churches, homes and investigative agencies, Smaller and Smaller Circles shows how any one of us can be called upon to uphold accountability and justice—regardless of who we are—and the extensive rot that can spread from every moment of inaction. This concentrated, emphatic moral exploration unfolds through a skillfully-written investigation narrative, set in a fully-realized Quezon City. F.H. Batacan’s tightly woven, multilayered debut novel is a literary triumph equal to the magnitude of the question it resolves to ask.
=====================================
Full review to follow. Initial thoughts:
WOW! WOW WOW WOW WOW WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yeah, that’s Quezon City
Smaller and Smaller Circles takes place in Quezon City, and one of the best parts of reading this novel is basking in Batacan's full rendering of it.
Recognizing places in a book seems basic and natural, but as a filipiñiana reader, I found that the major weakness of most Filipino writers is that they are unable to place their scene and characters in an actual, tangible place, and ending up totally missing out on the potential to draw gut feelings into their work. So it already stood out to me that this book has real settings, with Batacan vividly writing the spatials of every location to the reader.
More than that, the spaces actually have presence in the work. Each location has a distinct air that shapes the story in the immediate scene and the larger arc. Rains in Katipunan create wet umbrellas and late arrivals; government agencies with minimal budgets operate in run-down offices; crucial, desperate record searches in barangay health clinics unfold inside a small and cramped space; an excessively decorated CCP and posh attendees are insulated from the chaos they create.
Batacan’s debut also shows how setting work is also character work. She wonderfully does the complex Who’s and Wow’s and Why’s of her many characters simply by situating them as how we can find them in real life, giving the reader the characters' manner in their heads and in environment interactions. Places are name-dropped not as cameo, but as a loaded factoid with bearing on the final essence of the plot. Thoughtfully done literary mise-en-scene does a lot of idea development with a lot less showboating.
My favorite instance of the novel's affecting sense of place—and a top five highlight—was the short segment describing the varied lives of the three child victims' mothers. Remembering that part as I'm writing this makes me tear up because, even in short order, Batacan’s portraits of these mothers are so nuanced, empathetic and specific that they feel real. The most important aspect of this style is that this book creates compelling portraits of the truly voiceless Filipinos, shining a light on their experiences to discomfort the comforted, while maintaining their dignity by showing their truth.
Together, this creates a Filipino novel that feels truly lived in. More than just vivid, more than recognizable, the Quezon City (and the wider Metro Manila) in Smaller and Smaller Circles is a breathing, bustling world contained in 368 pages.
Using the Police Procedural
Despite the genre being widely popular and relevant, Smaller and Smaller Circles is the first Filipino police procedural (or in the blurb’s words, “crime fiction”) novel. Perhaps it's because the competent investigative work that is presumed in every crime novel is too out-there for our context. To use the police procedural plot in a Filipino story would require a set-up involving proper police procedure, from the crime scene handling to blotter records. The writer would not be able to lay down the puzzle pieces before breaking audience immersion.
One of F.H. Batacan’s most inspired decisions is that she doesn’t invent an alternate reality with ideal investigative conditions. Instead, her critique of the Philippine justice system is embedded directly into the narrative. Every step of the investigation is slowed—sometimes halted—by the inefficiency and indifference of the very institutions meant to deliver justice. This isn’t just thematic; it’s structural, woven into the pacing and progression of the plot itself.
A specific instance where this happens is the first 140 pages of the novel. This first part has its own antagonist: Director Ben Arcinas, a low-level bureaucrat who was constantly interfering with the investigation. Almost nothing gets done toward finding the serial killer for a long time, and only when Director Arcinas’s plans are nipped in the bud does the search truly begin. In fact, it progresses at a rapid rate, with the serial killer being identified in 123 pages.
The investigation being halted for so long shows the reader how the government’s work can just be totally stupefied when it is run by people who don’t use their position to help citizens, but as a resource to be withheld and used strategically as to accumulate even more for themselves.
There are more instances where the plot deviating from the genre standard is done to make a point. This was the best instance of it, so I discussed it at length. That, and also that I work in government and this was the most painfully relatable section for me because I have met some Director Arcinas’ in real life and their work ethic is not only morally wrong (the book’s point) but also annoying as fuck (my point). Overall, Batacan does a fantastic treatment, conceptually and in execution.
Accountability and Justice
“The first time I wrote this book—in 1996, when I was in my mid-twenties—I was angry: angry about my job, about the state of my country, about the callousness, complacency, and corruption that had dragged it there.
The second time I wrote this book—in 2013, in my forties, having moved back home with my infant son—I found myself even angrier: about the state of my country, which seemed even worse than it was in 1996, and about the callousness, complacency and corruption that kept it there.”
— F. H. Batacan, Acknowledgments
The first 140 pages, centered on Director Arcinas and the NBI, focus on government official accountability. Through scenes filled with his passive-aggressive gestures, evasive dialogue, and undeniable failure, this section builds a palpable tension—enough to make you grind your teeth in frustration. It's absolutely well-done, capped off with a cathartic resolution, perhaps the book’s only instance of fantastical wish-fulfillment. Yet, the book goes far beyond this familiar point.
Batacan takes the question into more difficult territory, elevating the book’s message to the reader from a stab in the dark to a personal challenge. As the two priests get closer to solving the mystery, and struggle through their personal experiences, we are asked the question of accountability with less obvious answers. Mothers and fathers that don’t acknowledge abuse. Friends and peers that gawk at the helpless. Cardinals that prioritize placation than real grace. A country that forgets the people who fought for its democracy. These instances are no longer government mandate but individual citizen responsibility. And so, the book poses the question, in what way have you let injustice happen?
While there are several iterations, the accountability question asked most urgently is the one expressed as outward physical violence. The serial killer was created not by innate genetic monstrosity, but the long-term deference of everyone around him, years of unchecked abuse compounding into a ritual of misplaced anger at being neglected. Seemingly insignificant people with seemingly insignificant decisions are still responsible for the people they are with and the place they are in.
For this reason, I wish more people would read the book. I think that even for my generation and my social group (a.k.a. young Filipino professionals) have already given up on their responsibility to act on the behalf of justice. There’s a string of Socio 101-level excuses that follow every whine of Not Me, blame of others easily assigned and self-reflection shrugged off.
The novel, especially with its interrogation of the serial killer’s poor parents, with its sympathy for the serial killer’s suffering from sexual violence while maintaining his guilt, asserts that accountability does not ask questions of powerlessness or disincentives. It is concerned squarely on our willingness to accept the consequences of our inaction.
Final thoughts
In treading QC’s universities and public schools, dumpsites and gated subdivisions, newsrooms and churches, homes and investigative agencies, Smaller and Smaller Circles shows how any one of us can be called upon to uphold accountability and justice—regardless of who we are—and the extensive rot that can spread from every moment of inaction. This concentrated, emphatic moral exploration unfolds through a skillfully-written investigation narrative, set in a fully-realized Quezon City. F.H. Batacan’s tightly woven, multilayered debut novel is a literary triumph equal to the magnitude of the question it resolves to ask.
=====================================
Full review to follow. Initial thoughts:
WOW! WOW WOW WOW WOW WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!
June 4, 2021
A crime novel set in the Philippines featuring two priests as the good guys trying to solve the serial gruesome killings of poor young teen boys. The author highlights the poverty of many, the corruption of a few powerful people, the cover up in the RC hierarchy of child abuse, the continuing impacts
post-Marcos of cronyism and nepotism, and the problems in the law enforcement and judicial systems. The solving of the crime and the fairly long period between identifying the culprit and the denouement was a bit ho hum. But overall this book provided plenty of interest in the issues it raised and did set the scene for hopefully more in future books.
post-Marcos of cronyism and nepotism, and the problems in the law enforcement and judicial systems. The solving of the crime and the fairly long period between identifying the culprit and the denouement was a bit ho hum. But overall this book provided plenty of interest in the issues it raised and did set the scene for hopefully more in future books.
May 17, 2020
This was engaging and disturbing and quite relevant. I feel like I'm not well equipped to review this right now but this was definitely a great read!
September 11, 2021
Wow. An excellent work of fiction by a Filipino author. I don’t read a lot of books about crime, but this, surprisingly, was a very gripping read. I was hooked from start to finish! I instantly liked the two main characters. They’re very sarcastic, funny, and intelligent; they’re so reminiscent of Sherlock and Dr. Watson, which is one of the reasons why I love this book.
Apart from the fast-paced storytelling, there’s also plenty of drama, controversy, and oh, definitely lots of politicking. It goes without saying that this book is eye-opening to the sad reality of our country. And by sad, we’re talking about themes like corruption, poverty, and injustice—all of which are still prevalent even up to this day. Yes, the Philippines is in dire need of more people like Director Lastimosa, Gus Saenz, and Jerome Lucero.
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update: edited to 4 stars!! amazing book, but not mind-blowing enough.
Apart from the fast-paced storytelling, there’s also plenty of drama, controversy, and oh, definitely lots of politicking. It goes without saying that this book is eye-opening to the sad reality of our country. And by sad, we’re talking about themes like corruption, poverty, and injustice—all of which are still prevalent even up to this day. Yes, the Philippines is in dire need of more people like Director Lastimosa, Gus Saenz, and Jerome Lucero.
—
update: edited to 4 stars!! amazing book, but not mind-blowing enough.
February 7, 2024
Final rating: 4🌟
————
👥Characters: 7
🔮Atmosphere: 7
✍️Writing: 7
🗺️Plot: 7
🔍Intrigue: 7
🧩Logic: 7
😌Enjoyment: 7
————
👥Characters: 7
🔮Atmosphere: 7
✍️Writing: 7
🗺️Plot: 7
🔍Intrigue: 7
🧩Logic: 7
😌Enjoyment: 7
Read
August 12, 2015plot and more at my online journal's crime page -- here.
Let's face it...serial killer novels these days are a dime a dozen, so there has to be something to differentiate the good ones from the ho-hum and the same old same old. Author F.H. Batacan has found the way to do it. Her book Smaller and Smaller Circles is not your average hunt-for-the-serial-killer story, but rather a look at how politics, corruption, the power of the church, and the desire for power all get in the way of getting to the truth to save innocent lives. Heck, I got angry reading this book, and I don't even live in the Philippines.
The story is told via third-person narrative, interrupted every so often with the thoughts of the killer,whose identity remains hidden throughout the story. Truth be told, this is the gimmicky part of this novel, but fortunately, being inside the killer's head only lasts for a short time here and there. Most of the book centers on the ongoing investigation, but the author manages to weave a great deal of social commentary into her story. I will also say that for me, the discovery of the "who" was sort of an anti-climax, almost as if the author got to the point of having to tie the various storylines together but wasn't quite sure about how to do it. On the other hand, it really didn't matter because like most novels I really like, it's much more about the getting there than the actual solution of the crime. Ms. Batacan writes very well, lifting this novel well above most serial-killer novels that are on bookstore shelves as we speak.
Let's face it...serial killer novels these days are a dime a dozen, so there has to be something to differentiate the good ones from the ho-hum and the same old same old. Author F.H. Batacan has found the way to do it. Her book Smaller and Smaller Circles is not your average hunt-for-the-serial-killer story, but rather a look at how politics, corruption, the power of the church, and the desire for power all get in the way of getting to the truth to save innocent lives. Heck, I got angry reading this book, and I don't even live in the Philippines.
The story is told via third-person narrative, interrupted every so often with the thoughts of the killer,whose identity remains hidden throughout the story. Truth be told, this is the gimmicky part of this novel, but fortunately, being inside the killer's head only lasts for a short time here and there. Most of the book centers on the ongoing investigation, but the author manages to weave a great deal of social commentary into her story. I will also say that for me, the discovery of the "who" was sort of an anti-climax, almost as if the author got to the point of having to tie the various storylines together but wasn't quite sure about how to do it. On the other hand, it really didn't matter because like most novels I really like, it's much more about the getting there than the actual solution of the crime. Ms. Batacan writes very well, lifting this novel well above most serial-killer novels that are on bookstore shelves as we speak.
January 10, 2018
Stuck between 4 and 5, in the end, I think, I'm giving this a 4.5. :D
I want to be Joanna Bonifacio. Ugh, I really want to be like her. Hahaha. But I'd prolly do a better job in producing a fun and youthful show than a crime-driven program as I am as soft as Fr. Jerome.
Oh well, what can I say? I enjoyed this book very much.
I'm not afraid of crime novels anymore.
I want to be Joanna Bonifacio. Ugh, I really want to be like her. Hahaha. But I'd prolly do a better job in producing a fun and youthful show than a crime-driven program as I am as soft as Fr. Jerome.
Oh well, what can I say? I enjoyed this book very much.
I'm not afraid of crime novels anymore.
shelf-item
July 14, 2016I hope the expanded edition of the first novella will not disappoint.
August 11, 2020
This novel was set in 1996 and published in 2000.
And nothing about its portrayal of the Filipino criminal justice system has changed.
And nothing about its portrayal of the Filipino criminal justice system has changed.
February 10, 2024
这样的故事在哪里都应该少一点🥹
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