SARE, Vol.

58, Issue 1 | 2021

A Convergence of Filipino Worlds: An Onomastic Reading of Edgar Calabia

Samar’s Janus Silang Novels

Maria Rhodora G. Ancheta

University of the Philippines-Diliman, Quezon City, the Philippines

Abstract

Edgar Calabia Samar’s Janus Silang book series is a significant body of contemporary young adult fantasy novels
in the Philippines. Samar’s ambitious series that successfully melds alternate online tech -worlds, everyday
Filipino life, and ancient supernatural, god-inhabited worlds, is worthy of study. In creating this fantasy world,
the Janus Silang series underscores the richness of Filipino mythology and lore by cohesively layering these lived
worlds by way of spatial and temporal play. This paper wishes to study the value of this “world(s)-building”,
entering this by way of the study of onomastics, the study of proper names of all kinds and the origins of names.
Using both toponomastics and anthroponomastics, or the study of place names and human naming, respectively,
this inventive, powerful focus on naming solidifies the Janus Silang series’ development of unique Filipino
characters and narratives and its reintroduction of the cultures of its imaginary worlds for young, contemporary
Filipino and global readers.

Keywords: Janus Silang, Filipino mythology, literary onomastics, anthroponyms, toponyms

Edgar Calabia Samar’s Janus Silang book series is a significant body of contemporary young adult fantasy novels
in the Philippines. Samar’s ambitious series that successfully melds alternate online tech -worlds, everyday
Filipino life, and ancient supernatural, god-inhabited worlds, is worthy of study, not only because of its award-
winning stature as a contemporary Filipino fantasy series (2015 National Book Award winner as Best Novel in a
Philippine Language, 2016 National Children’s Book Award, Best Read for Kids, and 2018 National Children’s
Book Awards), but more importantly, in creating this fantasy world, the Janus Silang series has underscored the
richness of Filipino mythology and lore by cohesively layering these lived worlds by way of spatial and temporal
play.

Despite the many recognitions given by prestigious award-giving bodies and the critical impact the books
have made in the Young Adult (YA) literature genre in the Philippines, there has not been a lot of study done on
the Janus Silang series, except for the odd book reviews and features on the series author. Expectedly, the
reception of Samar’s fantasy series has likened this to the “Harry Potter world” (Cayabyab), or to “Rick Riordan’s
64 | A n c h e t a
 SARE, Vol. 58, Issue 1 | 2021
Percy Jackson series” (de Vera). While Samar is not displeased by the comparison to these Western mega-fantasy
novel series, he does say that his novels desire to transcend these comparisons, because what he really meant for
these to do is to “[reflect] the rich culture of our country’s folklore”, to use “Philippine mythology and serialized
comics”, “to insert technology and social media in the narrative of Philippine mythology to hook readers to be
interested in our own folklore” (Cayabyab).

As Ruel de Vera put it, the Janus Silang series, “more than just modernizing a Filipino myth […] is an
attempt to build a new one — a Filipino young adult (YA) franchise that merges “magic with modernity”. The
publishers of the Janus Silang series pointed to the target audience of these “to be tweens and teens, 13 years and
up, and the franchise has grown beyond the novels, to a graphic novel version, play adaptations, and, in 2018,
television rights to a Janus Silang series were acquired by ABS-CBN” (https://news.abs-
cbn.com/life/09/03/18/abs-cbn-obtains-tv-rights- to-janus-silang-series).

In the light of this conscious deployment of Philippine folkloric knowledge in narrativizing the adventures
of “a young Filipino hero with that most modern of interests—online role-playing games (RPGs)” (de Vera
https://lifestyle.inquirer.net/158736/modernizing-a-mythical-monster/), and in anticipating the impact this will
have on the youth as primary target readers of this series, and more extensively, the influence this has on fantasy
as a genre in Philippine writing, I wish to study this world(s)-building, entering this by way of the study of
onomastics, the study of proper names of all kinds and the origins of names. Using literary onomastics, especially
as this is applied to fantasy writing, and employing both toponomastics and anthroponomastics, or the study of
place names and human naming, respectively, this paper posits that this inventive, powerful focus on naming
solidifies the Janus Silang series’ contribution to the Filipino fantasy genre and to the presentation of Filipino
worlds and the strengthening of the value of Filipino culture, not only as it de velops unique Filipino characters
and narratives, but as it reintroduces the cultures of its imaginary worlds for young, contemporary Filipino and
global readers.

The Janus Silang series now has four published novels — Si Janus Silang at ang Tiyanak ng Tabon (2014),
Si Janus Silang at ang Labanang Manananggal- Mambababarang (2015), Si Janus Silang at ang Pitumpu’t
Pitong Pusong (2017), and Si Janus Silang at ang Hiwagang May Dalawang Mukha (2019). This discussion will
mainly use the first three novels as it is in these that the creation of secondary worlds in this series is established
and introduced.

65 | A n c h e t a
 SARE, Vol. 58, Issue 1 | 2021
Onomastics

Lazslo Toth asserted the importance of proper names in human languages as th ese are related to fields of human
endeavor such as history, culture, religion, the arts, among many others (2). Names used in texts are possibly its
common literary characteristic as these are seen in various texts employing diverse styles and structures,
functioning as key medium of reference. Names operate as primary identifiers of places, persons, or objects and
as such function as onyms, the forms of which are provided by particular references to places, beings, or categories
(Butler 11). Names in this general classification are proper names, of which there are two main divisions:
toponyms, which are place names, and anthroponyms, which refer to personal names. There are other subdivisions
of names, such as ethnonyms, which are terms that refer to nationalities or ethnic groups, and glottonyms, which
refers to languages (Bright 671).

Onomastics, or onomatology, is the term used to refer to the “study of proper names of all kinds and the
origins of names. Anthroponomastics, in turn, is devoted to the study of personal names, under which are
subcategories that analyze “given names, surnames, clan names, matronyms, patronyms, teknonyms, nicknames,
ethnonyms, autonyms/endonyms, and exonyms”, while toponomy or toponomastics focus on place names
(Topolovec 4).

Names are integral in literary texts because it is in these that we find the coalescence of reality and fiction.
The role of the author as name-giver makes possible the distinctions and affinities between the reality readers
inhabit and the milieu of the text. Aristotle, in the Poetics, already mentioned the disparity between the creation
of a name and the application of this. However, the systematic study of proper names as used in literary texts
began only with the establishment of onomastics as a field of study at the end of the turn of the 19 th and 20 th
centuries (Toth 2).

Onomastics, then, is a critical method of studying the creation of literary universes, whose settings may
stand for the real or for an absolute fantasy (Butler 11). The formulation of names for use in this literary world
could be seen as a skillful handling of semantic components, and names, together with other literary elements,
fulfil a symbolic role that needs to be contextualized within the ambit of the work itself (18).

Allen refers to Alvarez-Altman’s definition of literary onomastics as a “field of study in which scholars
examine the meaning of names given to characters, peoples, places, and events and then determine how these
names relate to the piece of literature’s plot, theme, or structure” (72). What we identify as literary onomastics is
distinguished from traditional onomastics as the former analyzes an aesthetic artifact and thus underscores “the
66 | A n c h e t a
 SARE, Vol. 58, Issue 1 | 2021
artistic functions of language more than its forms” (Smith in Butler 21), but literature has not really been seen as
a field that lends itself to onomastics because it has been deemed lacking in the determinations that will address
the linguistic attributes of names (Butler 21-22). Literary names should, in fact, be emulated as representations of
referential detail that can be elicited through their usage. Baruch Hochman states that

fictional characters are both configured by and the text and generated in the minds of readers
who interpret them in terms of real-life models, so that they both take root in and transcend the
text’ and it is through a similar heuristic process that names may also come to possess semantic
value, shaped by interpretation built around identifiable archetypal patterns. (in Butler 22)

One specific focus of literary onomastics is the utilization of names that have been conceived for literary
usage and that have seeped into the wider lexicon, reminding us that literary works are “purposefully fabricated
entities”, what Gwyneth Jones calls “pieces of equipment” (18). That literary elements carry particular denotations
points to the referential power that enables them to symbolize the features that identify these characteristics. These
are “pieces of equipment, or literary tools” because these literary elements such as setting or character take on the
potency of the narrative affinities to which they are designated, a process that invests names “with a focused sense
of identifiable meaning” (18). The act of naming engenders terms that “[draw] their semantic meaning from the
referential capacity that a name may hold, [induce] their use as connotational symbolic representations”, and in
this sense, function in what Lazslo Halász calls “information network[s]”, constructed through the symbolic
correlations with theme or style that define literary works (18).

In literary onomastics, the meanings, sounds, and forms of names are interpreted within the limits of the
text in which these are deployed, and these function as aesthetic artifacts in conju nction with the indispensable
necessities of character creation and the production of textual meaning (Robinson 130). Butler supports this by
saying that literary components such as setting function as “a guide to the interpretative emotional senses with
which the narrative is to be engaged” and elements such as these form the basis of the contextual significance in
which symbolic features are applied. This contextual relevance is the foundation in the evaluation of literary
components that make for the creation of literary works (24). Names within a text, therefore, take on specific
functions within archetypal semantic and symbolic configurations, and are not just “mere background […]
designed to create an atmosphere [alone]” (Nicolaisen qtd. in Butler 24). Names as onomastic tokens bear
significant symbolic roles in a literary work, and nominal inventions are a form of “wordsmithing”, which is a
term applicable too to “onomastic shaping and literary crafting” by which narratives are defined. Each onomastic

67 | A n c h e t a
 SARE, Vol. 58, Issue 1 | 2021
token possesses a meaningful symbolic role within a work, and lexical objects that signify areas, persons, or
things, albeit in forms that are nonexistent except in the text, are tenable onomastic entities that provide definitions
for nominal functions and the space they occupy in the linguistic landscape (Butler 23). Stjepan Topolovec cites
Stanley Lieberson’s view that the process of naming involves more components that mark our comprehension of
names, such as the application of exceptionally strict rules and standards in creating these name choices (6). Weiss
raised the point “that the signification of names varies from the purely nonsensical to the most assuredly
allegorical”, and that one danger of this was what he termed a “‘humptydumptification’ of na mes, an irrational
insistence on their fully determinate meaningfulness” (102). This referred to what Peter Alexander noted as
Humpty Dumpty’s reversal of agreed upon ordering of name meanings, where “in the realm beyond the looking
glass, ordinary words mean whatever Humpty Dumpty wishes them to mean, while proper names are presumed
to have general significance”. In ordinary life, names are more disputable, conditional, and situational, and we
are called to maintain an attitude that looks at nominal connotations as more fluid, while being mindful of the
bounds of denotation (103; emphasis added).

Fantasy literature as a genre is remotest from realistic writing, and its attribute and its cardinal measure is
“the creation of a world in which causality is based on principles that are, in comparison with the real, everyday
world, non-rational (although there may be an internal rationality to the causality of that "secondary" world which
is distinct from that of the "real" world)” (Burelbach 131). This “secon dary world” is distinguished from the
imaginary world engendered by “main line fiction” in that these imaginary worlds are invested with characters
and events that, while established on normal, logical rules of causality, are fictive, and did not, and have not really
happened, but which could transpire without disturbing familiarly-held epistemologies (132). Referential linkages
permeate real world spaces and entities and the validation of the semantic denotation of which in the text are
upheld through the contextual characteristics and the genre of the text. This is especially so in the fantastic, which
creates absolutely fictional universes and alternate terrains, more than in other literary genres, in which realities
pertained to are highly meaningful in plot development (Chanady in Butler 24). We note one perspective of
naming that elucidates how literary or mythical entities can be identified, although these live solely in the
imagination--- the view that “names are essentially sorts of disguised descriptions, which necessarily have a sense,
but may only coincidentally have a referent, if by chance something in the world corresponds to the description”
(Weiss 102).

68 | A n c h e t a
 SARE, Vol. 58, Issue 1 | 2021

The Creation of Worlds: TALA

In Samar’s fantasy series, we really are dealing with two secondary, alternate worlds, one an articulation of the
other. The first invented world is one to which we are initially introduced, the world of TALA, the videogame.
TALA is the acronym for Terra Anima Legion of Anitos (Samar Tiyanak 2), the game which launches Janus
Silang into the mystery and chaos that will drastically alter his circumstances, and indeed, his identity, and literally
impel him into other worlds.

TALA appears to be a well-chosen “brand” for an invented Philippine cybergame, because its appeal lies
in the fact that it is a well-crafted “strategy game”, with the “computer-generated Legion of the Soulless with its
diverse creatures of the dark from [Philippine] myths, folktales, and even from urban legends, and these creatures
each have their own tactics to stop you from completing a level” (2-3)1. The second draw of the game lies in the
ingeniousness of the game process. This entails the triumph of a singular player in finding Tala, the “Bathaluman
ng Liwanag” or the goddess-muse of Light, and to achieve this, each TALA player needs to create a virtual tandem
called BAT (Bayani-Anito Tandem), which is the pairing of a hero and an ancestor spirit, shadow guides who
help the player find Tala (3).

This BAT pairing is one significant enticement of TALA as a strategy game because the Bayani (hero)
and the Anito (ancestor spirit) are designed as symbiotic entities, and this pairing is unique to each player, and in
playing the game’s levels, BATs are as sentient as the players in that they sto re knowledge of each level distinct
from the player’s own, making the repetition of levels a learning experience each time these are embarked into:
“The BAT recognizes objects and details that may have been forgotten or may not have been noticed by the
player” (3).

Even in the naming of TALA as a contemporary commodified entertainment, names drawn from
Philippine mythology have animated the fantasy world of this role-playing game. Its quaintness, has become, in
a sense, part of the selling point of the game’s narrative for a young Filipino audience that the fantasy novel’s
plot identifies. We expressly used the term “quaintness” here, because, on a very superficial level, the naming of
the game is designed by developers to utilize language that fashions worlds that are fairly realistic, but which still
absorbs the players. The Janus Silang series showcases the virtual appeal of manufactured computer games, the
reality of which, in much the same way as cybergames, seeps into the fabric of everyday life — in this case, in
the life that Janus lives, first in his provincial hometown in Bataan, and then later in a town near Manila as he and
69 | A n c h e t a
 SARE, Vol. 58, Issue 1 | 2021
his allies search for the real Tala and attempt to vanquish the real Tiyanak. This significant and potent connection
between the process of name-giving and the society, as well as the comprehension of these names result in new
word formations and sound symbolisms that superior fantasy video games employ (Topolovec 16).

The intricacies and multi-dimensional forms of fantasy games are based on nuanced but adept techniques
of meticulously created networks of name giving and sound symbolism (16). Videogames are made socially
germane by replicating the notable standards, mores, and conventions of contemporary society, and the names
games use are crafted to be straightforward in their provision of information, and depictions and references
applied contribute to a “well-crafted onomasticon that is reflective of the prevailing social concerns…” (Butler
Psychosocial 218). In the novels, TALA initially mines these considerations in the packaging of the videogame,
but as the novel unfolds, these merchantable considerations pale in the ligh t of the more mystical operations of
Philippine mythology and world-creation as these intimately impact Janus Silang’s life, and for which, we shall
later learn, TALA the game was created in the first place.

In developing TALA’s onomasticon, Samar’s Janus Silang is heavily and significantly indebted to the
creatures of Philippine lower mythology, a phrase we are expressly using here, in spite of the contested views of
this now rather imprecise term. First, we have to note Jordan Clark’s useful historical background into the
emergence of “lower mythology” to categorize mythical beings. Clark cites the work embarked on by German
scholars F.L.W. Schwartz and W. Mannhardt in the 19 th century on lower mythology as they began the work of
structuring the early myths of Indo-Germanic tribes on which studies about Indo-European mythologies focused.
In these works, the term “lower mythology” was a category employed to organize truly complicated mythic
structures (https://www.aswangproject.com/lower-mythology/). Lower mythology entities referred to creatures
which had no verifiable existence, but whose existence is sustained within folk traditions. These are construed as
“demonological”, usually seen to instigate maleficence, and are categorized “below spirits, angels, deities, and
ghosts”, inhabiting water, trees, rocks, or are even disguised as humans.

In the Philippines, the term “lower mythology” as a way to refer to creatures who are not gods, in much
the same way as early European classifications made these distinct cataloguing of “high” and “low” entities, was
underscored by Maximo Ramos and his landmark text, The Creatures of Philippine Lower Mythology, based on
his dissertation under Wayland Hand, former President of The American Folklore Society, that provided a deep
and extensive documentation of the creatures of Philippine folklore and mythology. While this Ramos study and
categorization is an invaluable addition to Philippine scholarship on anthropology and folklore, the divisions that

70 | A n c h e t a
 SARE, Vol. 58, Issue 1 | 2021
“help[ed] separate the ghouls from the gods” are now effaced by advances in the notions of early belief structures
(https://www.aswangproject.com/lower-mythology/), and these sharp binaries are not now tenable in view of the
more fluid reckoning of the place and functions of these entities in the totality of the mythic hierarchy within
cultures. Frank Lynch echoed this in his review of Ramos’s book, stating that while Ramos’s cataloguing of
Philippine lower mythology creatures into “demons, dragons, and dwarfs […] elves, ghouls, giants […] merfolk,
ogres, and vampires […] and viscera suckers, werewolves, and witches”, in addition to identifying their traits and
functions as being indeed anthropological contributions, “European categories are not always cleanly represented
in the Philippines” and that “European preconceptions […] force Philippine creatures into categories they really
do not fit in” (348).

The Naming of Creatures in the Janus Silang series

A significant wellspring of the foray into new worlds in TALA the game is the population of this world and, by
extension, the naming of these inhabitants drawing from Philippine mythos. There are initially eight levels in the
videogame – in fact, there will be a new level nine in subsequent Janus Silang books – and not only are these
designed for the player to reach Tala, the Paraluman (or goddess-muse), but to confront and vanquish the Tiyanak,
which will prove to be Janus Silang’s nemesis in his actual life.

In identifying the TALA levels, Janus states:

At the beginning is the Tiyanak because he created all other dark entities in the subsequent
levels. The Manananggal and the Mambabarang are in Level 2. The Bungisngis in Level 3. The
Berberoka in Level 4. The Sigbin in Level 5. The Dambuhalang Sarangay (The Monstrous Bull)
in Level 6. The Fairy of the Seven Lakes in Level 7. The Eight Aswangs in Level 8 […] (Samar
Tiyanak 162).

The Manananggal is classified as an aswang. Aswangs, also called asbang by ancient Tagalogs, are
creatures who are usually in human form, living as ordinary, unobtrusive and evasive folk, but who have the
ability to transform so that they could hurt others when darkness falls. They victimize peoples by eating their
innards, or by sucking their blood and other bodily fluids (Samar Kagila-gilalas 47, my translation, emphasis
Samar’s). The manananggal is a winged, fanged aswang that is able to divide its body in half at nigh t and when
the moon is full, the top half of its body able to fly to the roofs of their victims’ houses, while the bottom half

71 | A n c h e t a
 SARE, Vol. 58, Issue 1 | 2021
remains on the ground, usually in banana plantations because the lower limbs look like the trunks of banana trunks
(48; my translation). The term manananggal is so literally descriptive, as this comes from the word “tanggal”, in
this sense, meaning “to detach”, which is what this creature’s special ability is. The Mambabarang is a person
able to use insects to victimize others, by doing rituals and prayers, and then uttering whispers to command insects
such as beetles, cockroaches, centipedes, or flying termites to enter the victim’s body (58; my translation). The
“barang” in the mambabarang’s designation is both a verb and a noun — as the latter, it refers to the malignant
wisdom inherent in witchcraft, and as a verb form, it is the possession and the ill-use of such knowledge. While
the structure of the mambabarang’s name is similar to the manananggal’s in that the verb and its pref ix denote
ability and the possession of this ability, the mambabarang is more a practitioner of the dark arts and is not
physically monstrous. The manananggal as a shapeshifter certainly is.

The Bungisngis, the Berberoka, the Sigbin, and the Dambuhalang Sarangay are all classified as monsters,
marvelous or bizarre animals or animal-like creatures, which usually are savage, predatory, wild, taken as
denizens of darkness and bringers of misfortune to people and harbingers of the destruction of the world (27; my
translation). Burelbach acknowledges that fantasy literature presents many entities with supernatural powers, the
source of which and the names corresponding to these characters are mythologies from the diverse Greek, Roman,
Norse, Finn pantheons, in addition to African, Asian, American lore available to writers (138). A notable point,
then, in reckoning with these mythic nominals in Samar’s Janus Silang is that these largely originate in the
Philippine regions. While Topolovec does express the contentious view that name giving capitalizes on
preconceived ideas, even stereotypes in the society in which these are rooted, fantasy world developers and
creators, such as writers, artists, or, in the case of TALA, game developers, use local cultures, beliefs, and
relations, even racial and ethnic meanings bred in these milieus, to inscribe these in names (7). We see how, at
certain points in the Janus Silang novels, Samar deploys a faithful depiction of, and retain familiar appellations
of mythic creatures as these are known locally, but also inventively devises newly created narratives out of these
to serve the development of the series’s quest motif, thus, freshly weaving the tales of these supernatural creatures
into the fabric of Janus Silang’s real and alternate worlds.

“Bungisngis” in Tagalog means “giggles” or the act of giggling, and the monster Bungisngis does
precisely this, he is a one-eyed immense creature which giggles constantly. Though greedy and extraordinarily
strong, Bungisngis is easily bewildered (Samar Kagila-gilalas 39; my translation), and one way to look at the
Bungisngis is as being more mischievous rather than malicious. The Berberoka is so named by Ilocanos in the
areas of Abra, Apayao, and Ilocos Norte, a sly “freshwater ogre” that “sucks water from swamps or lakes until a
72 | A n c h e t a
 SARE, Vol. 58, Issue 1 | 2021
school of fish is evident in the surface”, which it uses to lure fisherfolk. It uses this same water it sucked to kill
its victims by drowning them, thereupon it eats its victims (https://filipiknow.net/top-10-terrifying-philippine-
mythical-creatures/). The sigbin is a Hiligaynon term (from the Panay Islands in the Visayas) for a monster that
is treated as a pet or a familiar of the aswang. The sigbin frequents the residences of those who are about to die
to drink the blood of these victims by sucking at their shadows, hastening their death. Moreover, they steal the
bodies of the dead so that they can eat these with their aswang ma sters. In appearance, the sigbin is a bizarre
shapeshifter, and can take on animal forms such as frogs or locusts, or more incredibly, can show itself as a
hornless goat, whose front legs are shorter than its hind ones, with flap -like, palm-sized ears, and a long, whip-
like tail (Samar Kagila-gilalas 36; my translation). The Sarangay is a bull-like creature “with a huge muscular
body and a jewel attached to its ears”, which jewel it protects by killing whoever tries to steal it
(https://www.definitions.net/definition/Sarangay).

The Diwata, or fairy, in Philippine lore belongs to another class of beings, and is an ancient female goddess
(bathala) whose powers are varied and who use these as a boon to save humans, or as punishment for those who
offend them, and thus the worship of these beings is determined by what the people need. Diwatas may also be
any female protector of nature and the environment (Samar Kagila-gilalas 97; my translation). The etymology of
the term “diwata” is “rooted in Hinduism and Buddhism, and the name “diwata” comes from the Hindu term for
deity, from “deva”, and “devatas”, as used in Javanese, Balinese, Sundanese. In Malay and Indonesian cultures,
they are “dewata”, lesser deities with very specific roles or functions. “Devata” is also the plural of “devas” (the
gods), and there are diverse kinds of devas: “vanadevatas (forest spirits, perhaps descendants of early nature-spirit
cults), gramadevata (village gods), devata of river crossings, caves, mountains, and others, and, akin to Samar’s
point, “every human activity has its devata, its spiritual counterpart or aspect” (Clark). The meaning of the
“devata” as goddess entities has been watered down to mean “dryad -like spirits”, either benevolent or neutral.
Jordan Clark notes Jose Rhommel Hernandez’s point that in Tagalog, the Indian/Hindu meaning of “Diwata”
does not now exist, and Tagalogs deem “diwatas’ as fairies. In the Visayas and Mindanao, however, the term has
similar signification to the word “anito”, meaning ancestor spirit. Some Mindanao groups use the term with the
same reference to ancestor spirits, such the T’boli “demwata” (https://www.aswangproject.com/diwata/).

Of all the creatures showcased by Samar in Janus Silang, none is as significant as the Tiyanak. The
Tiyanak is not only the archfoe of the TALA videogame, but is, in fact, a real malevolent force and entity that
uses Janus Silang to trace a real Tala, in order to vanquish the gods (bathalas) ultimately and completely. The
Tiyanak is classified under “lamanlupa”, literally meaning creatures that live underground 2, in ant or termite
73 | A n c h e t a
 SARE, Vol. 58, Issue 1 | 2021
mounds (punso), or in trees such as the balete (ficus or rubber tree). They are not easily seen by humans, because
they are elementals in their spirit forms (Samar Kagila-gilalas 9, my translation). In the same guise, very few are
able to see them because they are deemed gods whose domain is underground
(https://www.pilipinas.bid/2019/09/ano-ang-lamang-lupa.html; my translation).

The “lamanlupa” is a category that loosely translates into “gnomes” contemporarily (cf.
https://en.glosbe.com/tl/en/lamanlupa), using a European/Western comparison as the standard for this. Even in
the landmark Philippine Folk Literature, Damiana Eugenio indicated tiyanak stories as belonging to the dwarf
folk motifs (341), following too folk motif classifications, "elements in a tale that distinguishes it from other
tales,” which can refer to “an unusual creature, a strange land or a significantly striking or amusing occurrence,
i.e., any of the parts into which a tale can be analyzed” which was developed by Stith Thompson, whose
exhaustive study of motifs, the Motif-Index of Folk Literature, has been an invaluable tool for folklorists (Kuehnel
and Lencek). This is not quite an accurate translation, as these entities are better termed as elementals, because
while they are mostly small, as gnomes are, there are beings among them that are huge and massive (Samar
Kagila-gilalas 9; my translation). Moreover, in the Philippine pantheon, these do n ot just refer to what gnomes
and dwarves are in European mythology but take on many varied forms.

The tiyanak is an elemental, “a small but malevolent monster that takes the form of a baby or a young
child” that “lures its victim into a forest by crying like a baby. The victim follows the baby’s cries and is led
deeper and deeper into the forest until he is lost” (Cruz). Tiyanaks are believed to live underground where
treasures are buried, and they emerge aboveground at high noon, or at dusk. It usually contrives to be found by
childless couples, who the tiyanak will later kill by sucking their blood. While the tiyanak can shift into different
forms, and even make itself invisible to deceive its victims (Samar Kagila-gilalas 10-11, my translation), taking
on the guise of a baby is what it is best known for because the “general belief is that [it is] the spirit of a ny baby
that dies before it is baptized […] tianacs [sic] always ramble in lonely places, and they usually mislead young
folks […] any one may be safe from being led astray by the tianacs if he would wear his dress inside out” (Eugenio
341).

The word “tiyanak” (or, in earlier orthographic versions, “tianac” or “tianak”) is thought to be derived
from the Tagalog words “patay anak”, which means “dead child”. In certain parts of the southern Tagalog regions,
such as Batangas, the longer word “patiyanac” or “patianac” is used
(https://www.batangashistory.date/2018/11/tiyanak.html), and this more clearly shows this derivation. This again

74 | A n c h e t a
 SARE, Vol. 58, Issue 1 | 2021
illustrates how the tiyanak is seen to be the soul of an unchristened dead infant (Samar Kagila-gilalas 10). In
Mindanao, the Mandaya ethnic group use the name “patianak” or “patyanak”, and the Bagobo tribe call this the
“muntianak” (Samar Kagila-gilalas 11; my translation).

In Janus Silang, the myth of the Tiyanak is inscribed within the primordial narrative of the first humans
of Tabon Cave in Palawan. In the course of revealing to Janus the key to the mysterious deaths of those who
played TALA the videogame, his newfound companions Renzo and Manong Joey tell him that the Tiyanak was
born of the unknown woman of Tabon in truly tumultuous circumstances. The woman carried a child but the
paternity of this offspring was in doubt as two men each wanted to claim this child as his own. At the moment of
her childbirth, one of these early Tabon men smote his rival with a rock. The woman stabbed the killer, but she
was kicked by him, leading her to fall head first into the bonfire in the cave where she took refuge. In the woman’s
distress and anger as she lived her final moments, she uttered a curse that willed her yet-unborn child to kill the
man who slew her (Samar Tiyanak 118).

This child was delivered of its mother, and it was black as if with blood, which made the man who killed
its mother think it was dead, only to see that “…its eyes were wide open, it stood up as if it were a child that has
long learned to walk…”, and in a trice, that same “newborn” reached into the wound where the man was earlier
stabbed by the child’s mother, and in a trice grabbed his intestines and ate this (119). Janus is horrified by this
tale, but more horrifying still is that this was not the first tiyanak, “it was the only Tiyanak […] born in the caves
of Tabon thousands of years ago, and who, is the self -same Tiyanak they all have seen […] It has changed
appearances, pretending to be different children, but who is all of those” (120).

The horror of the Tiyanak’s transformation is amplified when Janus realizes the extent of the Tiyanak’s
malice, and how this malice is so directly trained at him and his family, as the younger sister he thought he has,
Juno, is really the Tiyanak. The sister he doted on was actually a young girl whom only he could see, as the
Tiyanak has so manipulated his and his parents’ minds, in order to access Janus’s hidden knowledge of where
Tala could be. The Tiyanak has long suspected that Janus is a Pusong even before Janus realized it, and it
insidiously inserted itself into Janus’s family for years to surveil all Janus may know. Juno was an evil trick he
played on Janus. In the end, Janus loses all he loved — Juno was a malignant illusion, his father was, in fact, long
dead and was replaced by a Dool, a shapeshifting creature the Tiyanak created, and worst of all, his mother was
killed by the Tiyanak, which later even ate Janus’s mother’s viscera as an act of cruel abomination.

75 | A n c h e t a
 SARE, Vol. 58, Issue 1 | 2021
Creation of Worlds: Kalibutan

Janus Silang’s inscription into an alternate world appears activated by the Tiyanak’s malevolent plans, but is, in
fact, an immersion in a more immense design, and the presentation of this Philippine conception of its
mythological cosmos is a distinctive contribution of the Janus Silang series into the narratology of fantastic
worlds. John Algeo avers the power of writers of fantasy works as “creators of a world whose boundaries are only
what the authors choose”, and as “name givers” who are able to apply that freedom to characters, places, objects,
events in a manner that makes these apt and uncontrived, making fantasy “therefore potentially the richest of all
genres of literature for onomastic analysis focusing on a connection between the name and the named” (252).
Kara Kennedy echoes Algeo’s point, stating that characters, places, and events that create a “three -dimensional,
immersive world” is constitutive of the worldbuilding process in the fantasy and science fiction genres, and the
significance of naming needs to be thoroughly studied in the engendering of fantastical and distinct secondary
worlds with which readers can be enthralled but which they can also totally accept (99). In Janus Silang, however,
the worldbuilding does not primarily rely on the invention of an unknown world, or on the devising of new words,
but in the reintroduction of Philippine myths and lore elements and vivifying these by interweaving these within
the contemporary adventures of Janus Silang as protagonist in this Philippine fa ntasy text as these mythical
creatures and tales are familiarly known, or as articulated narratives born of these local lore, that now
imaginatively expand on, and reimagine, Janus Silang’s alternate universe.

The world of Janus that corresponds to recognizable Philippine contemporary life — the reference to
recognizable and familiar places, such as Balanga in Bataan where Janus and his family live, or Angono where
Manong Joey’s residence and headquarters are, Marikina where Renzo stays with his Aunt Cely, or landmarks
such as fastfood places like McDonalds, but these current realities are also overlaid with invented contemporary
inventions peculiar to Janus’s other life, such as the underground train system known only to, and which are only
for, baganis, which network is existent all over the Philippines, called “trip” — a contraction of “Treng Dyip”
[train that is also a jeepney] and these secret transportations do have real, familiar referents in the train and the
jeepney (Samar Pusong 16-17). We had earlier noted TALA, the videogame, as another of these artifactual
onomastic inventions that the series so inventively utilizes to summon us into an alternate world. Even known
wars, such as the Second World War, is understood here, not just in the sense of this global battle:

To the bagani, the 40s were not just about the Second World War. They named this the Battle
between the Manananggal and the Mambabarang, the triumph of the world against its

76 | A n c h e t a
 SARE, Vol. 58, Issue 1 | 2021
annihilation desired by the Tiyanak, and this was a double v ictory on the part of the bagani
because they were joined in the fight against the Tiyanak by the manananggal, the Tiyanak’s
firstborn. (150-151)

To make sense of Janus’s complicity with a mystical world is to understand his place in that world, the
expanse of which is called Kalibutan, which means world. The Visayan “kalibutan” (used in Cebuano/Sugbuanon,
Waray, Inakbanon in the Eastern Visayas, for instance) corresponds to the Tagalog “daigdig”, or the English
“world” (https://corporaproject.org/index.php?word_search=kalibutan&&language=24). It is this concept of
worlds or realms that is also very evocative, because in the creation story of Kalibutan, it is a world cr eated by
nine gods or Bathalas (Samar Labanang 141), the conception of the creation of the world is that the world’s
foundation is a series of additions and revisions. “Kalibutan” is the “name given to the other half of our world”
(149), where places that exist in our reality find their duplicate, as in the other Balanga Esther the manananggal
resides in as she watches over Janus in the Balanga in which he lives (cf. 162). Kalibutan is like a “hologram”, “a
single space…” in which the nuno and the diwatas also exist, but in which realities are projected differently” (90).

The First World of Kalibutan also brought about the End (Hanggahan), or the limit to the Expanse
(Kalawakan), this birthed Space and Order, and the nine Bathalas initially deemed that thes e principles were
sufficient for the world to be set in motion. In the course of renewing the world, they dismantled each world in
order to add new principles that will maintain this Order. To these changes, they added first, Time, then Life, and
by the time they reached an eighth making of the world, they discovered the conflict between Life and the End.
And so, they realized that they need to bring about Death in order to revive Order, and in doing so, needed to
destroy the eighth world. The nine gods of the universe, in establishing the Ninth World, took responsibility for
the making of specific creatures that live and die (94-95).

We note here that the term “Bathala” is taken from the Tagalog indigenous belief in an omnipotent deity
who created the universe, whose name can also be spelled as Batala
(https://www.definitions.net/definition/Bathala). “Bathala” is deemed to originate from the Sanskrit Bhattara
Guru or “the highest of the gods”(https://www.tagaloglang.com/bathala-the-tagalog-god/). Clark cites F. Landa
Jocano who stated that “Bathala is the grand conserver of the universe – the caretaker of nature and the creatures
of the earth, and from this comes the meaning of “‘bahala’ or ‘mabahala’ meaning “to care.” From this evolved
the Filipino attitude of “bahala na” or “Let Bathala take care of it” which gives a person tremendous courage in
the face of danger” (https://www.aswangproject.com/bathala/). In Tagalog, a descriptive honorific is appended to

77 | A n c h e t a
 SARE, Vol. 58, Issue 1 | 2021
the name Bathala, such as “Bathalang Maylicha [Maylikha] (Bathala the Creator; lit. “Actor of Creation”)” and
as the Bathalang Maycapal [Maykapal] (Bathala the Almighty; lit. “Actor of Power”)”
(https://www.definitions.net/definition/Bathala).

The creation of Kalibutan in Janus Silang unfolds thus:

The first god created the Nuno (ancestor spirits), who are holders of the memories of ancient
worlds, are responsible for originating the opening and the closing of th e Ninth World. The
second Bathala created the fairy-goddesses, the Diwatas, creatures who will cultivate and care
for plants and trees that infuse the world with Color and Beauty. The Baganis were created by
the third Bathala, and the bagani is a creature, who by virtue of their strength and power,
preserve Order in the world. The fourth Bathala created the Pusong, the creature who is the
fount of change, tasked with the care of the emotions and inner wellbeing of other beings. The
fifth deity created humans, creatures of innocence, made so that mystery and wonder which is
a wellspring of Life could be sustained, and they do this by creating legends and tales. Animals
are the creation of the sixth god […] and the seventh god made Bacteria, creatures that live in
animals and men […] which will be the last to perish before the Nuno closes the world at the
end of time. And the eighth Bathala created the Mangindusa, guardians of the world and
preservers of Order, bringers of grace and retribution, of plagues and plenty, of rains and heat,
of shadow and light, maintaining the rhythm of nature, who provide amplitude to respond to
every need. The ninth god created the Hidden Creature, and for this, he is the only deity who
has dealings with the creatures of the world, by way of which interactions he is able to keep
hidden the secret creature he made. In this new world they created, Death and the Hidden
Creature are forces that are needed to ensure the continuity of this world. (Samar Labanang 95-
97)

It is this ninth god who had relations with the woman, Alindog (meaning charm or allure), in Tabon cave
in the guise of a hunter, who fathered the Tiyanak and Tala, the one who has the power to destroy the Ninth
World, and the other, the creature who could prevent this and who could slay the Tiyanak (97).

In this world-making, Tiyanaks or aswangs do not figure in the creatures made by the gods, and this is
among the Tiyanak’s overriding bitterness in its enmity against the gods, that the world had been created before
he came into it, and that he was not part of the plan, created by not one of the nine Bathalas and the mistake of

78 | A n c h e t a
 SARE, Vol. 58, Issue 1 | 2021
one of them (141). Part of the retaliation of the Tiyanak is to make his own creatures. In the books of knowledge
held by the baganis, the Tiyanak created the Manananggal, which mocked the human desire for flight, but unlike
the malice the Tiyanak expected would be preeminent in his creature, the Manananggal in Janus Silang became
a being who learned how to love humans, and who lived a separate existence from the Tiyanak that created it
(146-147). This revises the depiction of the Manananggal as simply bizarre monsters which desire human flesh,
and invests them with sentience and complex emotions. Another tale-reworking in this fantasy series is the
mention of Malakas and Maganda (The Strong One and the Beautiful One), not as the first creatures who emerged
from a split bamboo stem in Philippine mythology, but as the first followers of the Tiyanak (143). Indeed, Malakas
and Maganda are the first two creatures of the Tiyanak – the first Manananggal and the first Mambabarang –
made from mud that it packed into bamboo, into which it breathed the horror of life. Malakas needed strength in
order to endure his monstrous transformation, and Maganda, as the first Mambabarang, possessed allure and
glamor to beguile her victims and show them only the most attractive things at the moment of her most terrifying
deception (192-193).

More significantly, this creation myth of the nine Bathalas presents to us the presence, and the hierarchy
of, beings. We pay particular attention here to the Bagani and the Pusong, which are paramount ranks that move
this narrative along. The word “Bagani” is so potent in Philippine culture because among its well-known
derivatives is the Tagalog nominal “bayani” (meaning hero), or the Kapampangan adjective “bayani” (meaning
brave or strong). Perhaps lesser-recognized is the Aklanon noun “bagani(h)”, which also means hero (Ching).
“Bagani” as a term can be tracked back to its Proto-Malayo-Polynesian roots, “barani,” meaning “hero or war-
leader,” but also signifies “[to] dare to do”. The term “bagani”, however, denotes more than just a blanket word
for bravery or heroism, and this, instead, is deemed by several indigenous groups in Southern Philippines to refer
to a complex and specific cultural concept: “The bagani of Mindanao’s indigenous peoples is not just courageous
or charismatic in the same way that the bayani of the Filipino is; he is a definitive part of their community’s
structure and is not merely an abstract figure in the annals of indigenous peoples’ history” (Ching). The Mandayas
of the Davao region deem the “bagani” as a warrior class within their social hierarchy, a warri or chief; the
Manobos look to him as a “warrior priest” who is favored by the gods and given “strength and skill in battle” that
enables him to kill, and, conversely, the power to heal (Ching). In Janus Silang, baganis like Manong Joey and
Manong Isyo, who possess long lives and psychic powers, or Ma’am Ludinia, whose bagani clan is able to draw
power from the natural world (Samar Labanang 17), or ancient bagani families like the Esturas, the Andreses, the
Guerreros, the Gracios are “in a race against the Tiyanak to find Tala” (Samar Tiyanak 137).

79 | A n c h e t a
 SARE, Vol. 58, Issue 1 | 2021
And the key to finding Tala, the Tiyanak’s twin and the only one who can kill it, is by way of the Pusongs,
of which Janus is one, as his own father was. The word “pusong” in Tagalog means “buffoonery” or “foolishness”,
and the person of the pusong is “foolish, impudent, profane” (https://www.wordsense.eu/pusong/). In Janus
Silang, the pusong is not portrayed in this manner, but their trickery may lie in the power they have to jump back
into time (Samar Pusong 118), and their ability to take on animal forms, and all their liminal and ludic powers as
pusongs are in the service of finding Tala. This artfulness and shrewdness are seen in the first Pusong who saved
the infant Tala, Pilandok, who is able to hide Tala from the Tiyanak and from the first Bagani who was deceived
by the Tiyanak. “Pilandok”, which literally refers to the mouse deer (https://www.tagaloglang.com/pilandok/),
the animal into which he transforms, is characterized by this fleetness and quick-thinking in the face of danger. It
is worth noting that Janus’s ancestor Mahang, who first compiled the knowledge of and about pusongs, took on
the name “Siláng” – Mahang of Siláng (138) – in which “Siláng” is a toponym, a place name that refers to “a
trace of a path in the mountains or on the plains”, an apt appellation because they come from a line of pusongs
“who have rendered these ways passable, those who created all human pathway s” (138). This anthroponym is
revelatory of Janus’s lineage as it is of his mystical role, but it also calls to another meaning of “Silang”, “to be
born”.

This naming is also significant especially when we take into account Janus’s first name, which is
unexpectedly Western. Janus is a Roman Numina, “protectors of sowers and the seed”, “the god of good
beginnings” (Hamilton 45). In Roman mythology, he is “the god of beginnings and transitions”, who presided
over passages, doors, gates and endings, as well as in transitional periods such as from war to peace”, an d is best
known in his depiction “as having two faces looking at opposite ways, one towards the past and the other towards
the future” (https://www.greekmythology.com/Myths/Roman/Janus/janus.html). As the “god of gates and doors”,
Janus “held the key […] to the metaphorical doors and gateways between what was and what is to come —the
liminal space of transitioning out of one period of time and into something new”
(https://www.andersonlock.com/blog/god-doors/). Janus Silang’s naming so aptly captures his ability to belong
to both his world and Kalibutan, his ability to stay in the present and also to travel to the past, his p owers to outwit
the Tiyanak, and all allude to what the Paraluman says about the Pusong they are waiting for: “that the one who
will point the way to the Root will come from the Fruit that grows in another Time” (Samar Pusong 111-112).

Conclusion

80 | A n c h e t a
 SARE, Vol. 58, Issue 1 | 2021
In reckoning with many categories of naming in Samar’s Janus Silang series, we have shown how this
contemporary Philippine fantasy work has successfully presented an onomasticon of Philippine mythological
creatures and secondary worlds that inventively introduced “new objects, artifacts, technologies, customs,
institutions, ideas” and conceived “imagined cultures […] modeled after real cultures, using different
combinations of their traits that an audience might find familiar, but in new configurations” (Kennedy 100). Janus
Silang has achieved this by way of presenting recognizable contemporary Filipino worlds and everyday lives as
embodied either in known or unfamiliar ways, represented by Filipino names and referents. The naming of worlds,
their creatures, and the narratives and processes of their creation, reactivates th e remembrance of Philippine myths
and lore, either as faithfully rendered or as revised, and invented reintroductions to these imaginary worlds.

Finally, we have to note that the use of Filipino as the language of the novel series contributed not just a
“quaint charm” to this fantasy narrative by mining the exoticization of creating “Filipinized” fantasy worlds. We
assert the integral indispensability of this language’s use here as it anchors these fantastic worlds and realities that
are both ancient and novel, familiar and strange, in the Filipino readers’ own informational, cultural, psychical,
and metaphysical terrains. Filipino beliefs in mythical creatures, and how they co -exist in the context of local
life, are not just employed in Janus Silang to create familiar supernatural backgrounds that draw readers to it by
virtue of this very familiarity, which is the surface appeal of many other fantasy novels. What the novels succeed
in doing is melding these local mythical elements to serve a new narrative of alternate Filipino worlds. This has
allowed us to examine the naming of beings, entities, places, objects in these novels not only in terms of the
referential, but also by way of the symbolic values of these nominals. Samar was able to “produce change s in the
nominal and cultural realms that gesture towards an even larger, more expansive, universe than is described in
the story”, and his “world-building […] successfully set[s] up the illusion of completeness and allow[s] readers’
pre-existing knowledge to fill in the gaps” (100). The success and signal contribution of Samar’s Janus Silang
series is in the unfolding of an intricately detailed Kalibutan and Santinakpan by suturing together a grand
narrative of good and evil that brings in diverse aspects of Filipino supernatural lore. In this paper, we have largely
underscored the power of naming that manifested a uniquely Filipjno mythic world by focusing mainly on how
the novels maneuvered around these named fantastic elements from Philippine lore seen in everyday life and in
virtual reality, in mundane existence vis-à-vis mythic worlds. There are, too, in Samar’s fantasy series, other
instances of naming other speculative aspects in Filipino that are totally novel and whic h do not simply replicate
known myths and creatures, but which are instead onomastic rhizomes that begin to play with these by providing
these known nominal assignments new fictional twists to flesh out Samar’s vision of this alternate Filipino world,

81 | A n c h e t a
 SARE, Vol. 58, Issue 1 | 2021
which is still unfolding as the series has not yet finished. In addition to these, Samar builds on other aspects of
lived experience, such as personal appellations and titles, invented transport systems and cyber applications,
which can be examined further in future studies of this series. All these bode well for fantasy fiction in the
Philippines, as we see how the awareness of naming becomes a potent literary tactic in crafting future speculative
writing in Philippine literature. In Janus Silang, we noted the use of familiar Filipino mythic elements, but this
naming opens even more portals to the imaginative crafting of original creatures and elements born of the author’s
ideation not only of Filipino mythos, but perhaps of other cultures as well, or even of t otally new, hitherto
unknown, conceptions of worlds and universes.

Notes

1. All quotes from the Janus Silang books are originally written in Filipino and all English translations are mine.

2. The term used for “lamanlupa” in Pangasinan is “kaibaan” (see Samar Sinaunang 9), which may come from
the root word “íba”, meaning “companion; to accompany (-an); to help (man-)”, or from the term “kaíba” which
means accompaniment (Benton 46). The contemporary translation of “Akaibaan”, is to be “made fun of by the
“ancestor in the anthill” (Ogalesco https://www.aswangproject.com/nuno-sa-punso/) [“napagkatuwaan ng mga
nuno sa punso”—in Tagalog] (Alambra). This gives another meaning to “lamanlupa” as companions from another
world who either help humans or make mischief and harm them.

Works Cited

“10 Lesser-Known Mythical Creatures in Philippine Folklore.” FilipiKnow, 9 March 2019.

https://filipiknow.net/top-10-terrifying-philippine-mythical-creatures/ Accessed 16 March 2021.

“A 1922 “Tiyanak” Story set at the foot of Mount Makulot in Cuenca, Batangas.” Batangas
History, Culture & Folklore, 3 November 2018,
https://www.batangashistory.date/2018/11/tiyanak.html. Accessed 18 March 2021.

82 | A n c h e t a
 SARE, Vol. 58, Issue 1 | 2021
“ABS-CBN obtains TV rights to 'Janus Silang' series.” ABS-CBN News. 3 September 2018,
https://news.abs-cbn.com/life/09/03/18/abs-cbn-obtains-tv-rights-to-janus-silang-series Accessed 23 March
2021.

Alambra, Aurora Verceles. “Diabetes scare in the family; akaibaan, kayu-kayo, bari-bari!”
The Sunstar Baguio, 21 November 2019,
https://www.sunstar.com.ph/article/1833043/Baguio/Opinion/Alambra-Diabetes-scare-in-the-
family-akaibaan-kayu-kayo-bari-bari! Accessed 14 March 2021.

Algeo, John. “A Fancy for the Fantastic: Reflections on Names in Fantasy

Literature.” Names: A Journal of Onomastics, vol. 49, no.4, 248-253, (2001) DOI: 10.1179/nam.2001.49.4.248.
Accessed 8 April 2020.

Allen, Spencer L. “A Rebel by Any Other Name: The Onomastics of Disney’s Star Wars
Rebels.” The Journal of Religion and Popular Culture vol. 31, no.1, Spring 2019, doi:10.3138/jrpc.2017-0020.
Accessed 8 April 2020.

“Ano ang lamang-lupa?” https://www.pilipinas.bid/2019/09/ano-ang-lamang-lupa.html

Accessed 16 March 2021.

“Bathala, the Tagalog God” n.d. https://www.tagaloglang.com/bathala-the-tagalog-god/

Accessed 17 March 2021.

Benton, Richard A. “I.” Pangasinan Dictionary, University of Hawai'i Press, Honolulu, 1971,
pp. 46–49. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctv9hvsfz.12. Accessed 16 Mar. 2021.

Bright, William. “What Is A Name? Reflections on Onomastics.” Language and Linguistics,

vol. 4, no. 4, 2003, pp. 669-81.
https://www.researchgate.net/publication/253085133_What_IS_a_Name_Reflections_on_Onomasti
cs. Accessed 8 April 2020.

83 | A n c h e t a
 SARE, Vol. 58, Issue 1 | 2021
Burelbach, Frederick M. “An Introduction to Naming in the Literature of Fantasy." Literary
Onomastics Studies, vol. 9, Article 11, 1982,
http://digitalcommons.brockport.edu/los/vol9/iss1/11. Accessed 8 April 2020.

Butler, James Odelle. Name, place, and emotional space: Themed Semantics in Literary
Onomastic Research. 2013. University of Glasgow, Ph.D. dissertation.
http://theses.gla.ac.uk/4165/ Accessed 8 April 2020.

Butler, James O. “The Psychosocial Ramifications of Videogame Naming and Representation in

the Early Years of The Simpsons.” Names: A Journal of Onomastics, vol. 63, no.4, 2015, pp. 210-19,
https://www.tandfonline.com/ DOI:10.1080/00277738.2015.1118985. 8 April 2020.

Cayabyab, Marc Jayson. “Philippine folklore meets technology in ‘Janus Silang’ play
adaptation.” Inquirer.net. 5 February 2017, https://lifestyle.inquirer.net/253558/philippine-folklore-meets-
technology-janus-silang-play-adaptation/ Accessed 23 March 2021.

Ching, Marrian Pio Roda. “Is ‘Bagani’ culturally appropriating indigenous peoples?” CNN
Philippines. 26 March 2018. https://cnnphilippines.com/life/culture/2018/03/26/bagani-cultural-appropriation-
indigenous-people.html Accessed 26 March 2021.

Clark, Jordan. “The Diwata Of Philippine Mythology: Forest Spirits & Goddesses.” The Aswang
Project. 3 March 2016, https://www.aswangproject.com/diwata/ Accessed 16 March 2021.

---. “The Problem and the Importance of “Lower Mythology” in Philippine Folklore.” The
Aswang Project, 3 June 2015, https://www.aswangproject.com/lower-mythology/
Accessed 19 March 2021.

---. “The Tagalogs Origin Myths: Bathala The Creator.” The Aswang Project, 13 February 2016,
https://www.aswangproject.com/bathala/ Accessed 18 March 2021.

Cruz, Neal H. “Philippine mythological monsters for Halloween.” Philippine Daily Inquirer, 31
84 | A n c h e t a
 SARE, Vol. 58, Issue 1 | 2021
October 2011, https://opinion.inquirer.net/16299/philippine-mythological-monsters-for-
halloween#ixzz6pzU03L48 Accessed 18 March 2021.

De Vera, Ruel S. “Modernizing a Mythical Monster.” Philippine Daily Inquirer, 4 May 2014.
https://lifestyle.inquirer.net/158736/modernizing-a-mythical-monster/#ixzz6qKCLYhTR Accessed 23 March
2021.

Eugenio, Damiana. Philippine Folk Literature: The Legends. U of the Philippines P, 2005.

Hamilton, Edith. Mythology: Timeless Tales of Gods and Heroes. Meridian. 1989.

“Janus.” Greek Mythology. n.d.

https://www.greekmythology.com/Myths/Roman/Janus/janus.html Accessed 23 March 2021 .

“Kalibutan” n.d. 3NSCorpora Project.

https://corporaproject.org/index.php?word_search=kalibutan&&language=24. Accessed 14 June 2021.

Kennedy, Kara. “Epic World-Building: Names and Cultures in Dune.” Names: A Journal of
Onomastics, vol. 64, no.2, 2016, pp. 99-108. https://www.tandfonline.com/ DOI:
10.1080/00277738.2016.1159450. Accessed 8 April 2020.

Kuehnel, Richard and Rado Lencek. “What is a Folklore Motif?” n.d.

https://www.aktuellum.com/mobile/slavic/folklore-motif/ Accessed 12 March 2021.

“Lamanlupa.” n.d. https://en.glosbe.com/tl/en/lamanlupa Accessed 16 March 2021.

Lynch, Frank. Review of Creatures of Philippine Lower Mythology by Maximo Ramos.

Philippine Studies vol. 20, no. 2, 1972, 348. PDF. Accessed 23 March 2021.

Ogalesco, John Patrick. “Nuno sa Punso: The Mound Dweller.” The Aswang Project, 12
November 2016, https://www.aswangproject.com/nuno-sa-punso/ Accessed 18 March 2021.
85 | A n c h e t a
 SARE, Vol. 58, Issue 1 | 2021

“Pilandok.” n.d. https://www.tagaloglang.com/pilandok/ Accessed 17 March 2021.

“Pusong.” n.d. WordSense Online Dictionary. https://www.wordsense.eu/pusong/. Accessed

14th June, 2021.

Robinson, Christopher L. “Onomaturgy vs. Onomastics: An Introduction to the Namecraft of

Ursula K. Le Guin.” Names: A Journal of Onomastics, vol. 59, no. 3, 2011, pp. 129-38,
DOI:10.1179/002777311X12976826704208. Accessed 8 April 2020.

Samar, Edgar C. 101 Kagila-gilalas na Nilalang. Adarna House, 2015.

---. Si Janus Silang at ang Labanang Manananggal-Mambabarang. Adarna House, 2015.

---. Si Janus Silang at ang Pitumpu’t Pitong Pusong. Adarna House, 2017.

---. Si Janus Silang at ang Tiyanak ng Tabon. Adarna House, 2014.

“Sarangay.” n.d. https://www.definitions.net/definition/Sarangay Accessed 17 March 2021.

“The God of Doors, Gates, and Transitions: History of the Ancient Roman God Janus.” n.d.
https://www.andersonlock.com/blog/god-doors/ Accessed 21 March 2021.

Topolovec, Stjepan. The Cultural and Linguistic Aspects of Naming in Fantasy Video Games.
2012. University of Osijek, Ph.D. Dissertation. PDF. Accessed 8 April 2020.

Tóth, László. Theory and methodology in literary onomastics: Proper names in István Szilágyi’s
novels (in particular in Hollóidő /Time of ravens/). 2014. Pázmány Péter Catholic University, Theses of Ph.D.
dissertation. PDF. Accessed 8 April 2020.

86 | A n c h e t a
 SARE, Vol. 58, Issue 1 | 2021
Weiss, Allen S. “Imaginary Onomastics” Translation Studies, vol. 12, no.1, 2019, pp. 100-108, DOI:
10.1080/14781700.2019.1669486. Accessed 8 April 2020.

87 | A n c h e t a