This volume brings together Siburapha's most highly acclaimed novel, Behind the Painting, with three short stories highlighting the plight of the underclass: "Those Kind of People," "Lend Us a Hand," and "The Awakening."
Behind the Painting is the story of a Thai student studying in Japan who becomes infatuated with an older Thai woman. The novel reflects postwar Thai society in the vanity of the aristocracy and the pragmatism of the new elite; in the social more of concealing one's true feelings; and in the restricted existence of unmarried women and the resulting pressure to marry, whatever the circumstance. Paralleling these Thai cultural themes are the universal themes of the fear of aging and the vagaries of love.
Siburapha (Kulap Saipradit, 1905-1974) has enjoyed a checkered reputation in the Thai literary world. A popular and accomplished writer of romantic novels in the late 1920s, his later work tackled themes of social injustice and inequality. Imprisoned from 1952 to 1957, Siburapha subsequently sought asylum in China, where he remained for the rest of his life.
Originally serialised then published as a novel in 1938, Siburapha’s small-scale, domestic tragedy was far more moving than I’d initially anticipated. It unfolds through flashbacks seen from the perspective of successful, Thai professional Nopporn. He lives quietly in Bangkok with his wife but his study contains a mysterious watercolour, a modest, amateur picture out of keeping with the rest of his upmarket art collection. It depicts a scene from well-known, Japanese tourist spot Mount Mitake but for Nopporn it’s a coded reminder of first love. In his early twenties, like many Thai men from his background, Nopporn went to study in Japan, a move designed to improve future employment prospects. During Nopporn’s stay, he was asked to act as a guide for his father’s friend Chao Khun coming to Tokyo for an extended honeymoon with new bride, beautiful, charming, and much younger, Kirati. But then Chao Khun’s numerous business associates dominate his spare time, throwing Kirati and Nopporn together. Nopporn became increasingly obsessed with her but their chaste variation on an affair – adultery was considered an unforgiveable act - abruptly ended when Kirati returned to Bangkok with her husband. Their contact fades away but they’re destined to meet again years later and in vastly different circumstances.
Siburapha (Kulap Saipradit) produced his classic novel in a period of transition, he started out as a journalist and a writer of commercial romances. Later Siburapha’s increasingly radical, anti-authoritarian affiliations were expressed through overtly-political pieces, influenced by authors like Dostoevsky. Nopporn and Kirati’s story echoes aspects of a particularly prominent Thai subgenre, a brand of bittersweet romance revolving around social barriers that come between lovers. It was a deliberate choice of framework, Siburapha needed money, but he strayed from the standard formula, inserting elements of social and cultural commentary about gender and class in Thai society. Kirati’s a descendent of the Chao Nai, Thai aristocracy that’s now in rapid decline. Born in the early 1900s, she’s had a sheltered upbringing, tutored by an English governess, kept at home in relative isolation. Kirati was trained to see herself as an object, a thing of beauty whose sole purpose was to marry well. Her failure to attract the "right" partner led her to accept a proposal from Chao Khun, despite her lack of interest in him as a person. But Nopporn’s been educated to become wealthy, to marry someone suitable, and direct his energies at developing his career. As their story unfolds, Kirati and Nopporn’s different options and choices, the nature of their future relationship, constructs a subtle but damning critique of Thailand’s upper-class and its emerging middle-class - particularly when it comes to men and women’s respective roles. It’s much narrower in scope, and markedly different in style, but Siburapha’s lovers caught up in questions of duty versus desire sometimes reminded me of Edith Wharton’s central characters particularly in books like The Custom of the Country. Although Siburapha also mixes in traces of Buddhist philosophy with references to notions of fate versus free will. Uneven overall, not helped by the translation which felt quite clunky and pedestrian at various points but still a compelling, illuminating read.
3.5. A moving little novel. When I went to Thailand a few years ago I looked desperately for something by a Thai author to take and read with me and found nothing. Now, Behind the Painting has been translated and published in English by Penguin Classics (I cannot work out whether this is for the first time or not); it is supposedly considered the apex of the Thai literary canon, and has been republished over forty times.
It is a short, moving novel about unrequited love. Though I enjoyed my reading of it quite a bit, I have found that since finishing it, it's wandered a little from my mind. So perhaps it hasn't made a lasting impression, though I certainly thought highly of it as I was reading it. A colleague at work has read it, and now another colleague is going to pick it up, so it's generated a kind of staggered book club in that regard.
”You derive pleasure from situations that happen, and when one situation has passed, you forget it completely, and move on to new situations and new pleasures. That's the way it goes, constantly changing. My life is confused and blurred. Sometimes I think of happiness, it's true, but not in any clear or definite way. It's like a dream floating above my head. Sometimes I manage to catch hold of it. Other times it slips through my grasp.”
this was okay in a soft, melancholic way. the story stayed quiet and small for me, not bad. it’s just gently forgettable.
This book surprised me so much! It was such an interesting read with a different take on a story that I have seen portrayed in some form or another many times. It was so beautiful yet so tragic and heartbreaking.
It's a story about such passionate, all consuming love where you feel like you will die if you are ever parted from them, that life cannot go on without them in it. But it's also a story of selflessness and maturity when you can't always act on these strong feelings of love and instead have to accept and be realistic about your surroundings and your situation, putting someone else's life and future before your own happiness because you love them that much and want the best for them.
I was so caught up in the feelings of both of our main characters. I sympathised and related so much to Napporn, and yet also admired and empathised with Kirati, understanding her position and how hopeless it was, I felt both of their pain seeping through the pages, crying out about how unfair the whole situation was, yet Siburapha did all of this in only 120 pages. He made me feel like I've known these characters my whole life and have gone through so much with both of them, making tears fall from eyes by the end of the book.
The story touched on the topic of women's rights and their "role" in society quite a bit. One of our main characters whole life has been centred around finding a husband and getting married. She is a beautiful woman, but because of this beauty she has been sheltered, and thus remained unmarried until the age of thirty-five, when she became desperate, feeling that if she didn't get married, what else was she going to do with her life, that there would be nothing else for her. I also liked the honesty of the book regarding Thai society, our main charcters goal in life being to help Thai society progress and became a great nation which he believes it can be. With these topics in mind, I am very curious about the author himself and his life and would like to find out more about him.
A truly beautiful book that I will not forget anytime soon. Thai literature is becoming one of my favourites and I cannot wait to read even more of them.
It’s been a long old time since a book has made me cry, but this one’s final sentence got me. There is a quiet beauty here beneath the old fashioned language. It certainly captures one’s 20s very well, with so much of this resonating with my own experiences. Lovely.
a new favorite, encompasses a certain kind of moral nerve and dread calcifies in my chest now that I am done… a reminder to see beauty in almost everything and look at everything in its smallest detail.
The great virtue of *Behind the Painting* is author's deep understanding and depiction of how puppy love can fade over time (in the case of Noppadol), and how societal/moral obligations can prevent one from reciprocating (in the case of Kirati). Kirati in particular is masterfully drawn, and Noppadol almost as well, although I did find myself wishing that Siburapha had cut some of his effusiveness. While the novel tells us something about the development of Thai literature at the time, there's little that's specifically Thai about it beyond Noppadol's arranged marriage and perhaps the lack of status/class consciousness that informs the relationship between Noppadol, who is from the upper middle class, and Kirati, who is minor nobility. -- The three "other stories" are from later in Siburapha's career, and their value lies less in literary merit (which is genuine but modest) and more in their didactic nature: by this point he was allowing his passion for social justice to dictate his literary style and content. They would, however, make for excellent readings in textbooks for middle schoolers. Of interest primarily to those curious about the development of twentieth-century Thai literature; worthwhile but hardly essential reading for anyone else. 3 1/2 stars.
In reading Smyth's translation of BTP, I enjoyed getting to read the chapters that Susan Fulop Kepner didn't cover. However, I think I like Susan's translation better. It may be a matter of British vs. American English. I'll do a closer analysis in the future. I do however like all of the photos and biographical information about Siburapha.
3.5 I like the way this depicted falling in love with gentle walks and stimulating conversation. The way that the love was depicted in such an idyllic setting in Tokyo, with the glory of moonlight walks or autumn leaves in the countryside, compared to the tragedy of the ending made it feel like the love story was trapped in the painting and never actually occurred. It was so heart breaking at the end that Mom Ratchawong Kirati as the older woman was holding on so previously to their love and Nopporn as the younger career man so easily had become indifferent. I found interesting the commentary on love in general, that some are lucky or unlucky to find it, that contentment without love is completely reasonable, and that marriage can be an advantageous decision at that time even without love. Beautifully written and impactful for such a small book, I think I just didn’t give it a higher rating because Nopporn’s character became so frustrating and heartbreaking but I guess that’s on men!
“‘Can’t you see how lovely the fresh green colour of the leaves is in the pale sunlight? They’re like velvet. And all those young chocolate-coloured aubergines. Don’t they make you feel like they’re friends, of your own age? And beyond those, don’t the tall vegetables with slender leaves blowing in the gentle breeze make your spirits soar with them?’” 16
“People believe that love is the mother of happiness. But the way I see it, that’s not always true. Love can bring bitterness and all kinds of terrible things into our lives. But for those who do love, their hearts are engulfed in a wonderful sweetness which lasts for ever.” 41
“…why should I stay in the same place? I wanted contact with the outside world. I needed a change in my life. I needed something different from what I had been doing for thirty-four years” 63
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.