Il Re di Bangkok racconta la storia della Thailandia contemporanea attraverso la vita di Nok, un vecchio ambulante cieco che vuole andarsene dalla città. Seguendolo per le vie della megalopoli thailandese e lungo i sentieri della sua memoria, questo graphic novel ricostruisce un viaggio tra le baraccopoli dei lavoratori migranti, i campi di riso dell’Isaan, i villaggi turistici di Kho Phangan, e le rivolte popolari tra i grattacieli della capitale. Basato su più di dieci anni di ricerca antropologica, Il Re di Bangkok parla di migrazioni e famiglie lontane, del progresso che consuma il Paese e di come le onde della storia sollevano, travolgono, o inghiottono le persone comuni.
«Tuo padre sta morendo e tu stai qui a drogarti con il suo amuleto al collo…» «Non dormivo più. Ogni mattina all’alba tornavo nella mia baracca e collassavo… Mio padre, l’uomo che si è sempre preso cura di me, non c’è più. Vedo la sofferenza di Gai, ma è come se fosse sott’acqua, attutita e distante. Non sento niente. Provo a ripetermi che ho fatto esattamente quello che dovevo: lavorare e mandare soldi. Ma ogni centesimo mi ha reso più distante, mi ha fatto cadere più a fondo. Il monaco aveva detto che tutto cambia, che niente rimane uguale per sempre, ma questa gabbia che mi sono costruito attorno sembra estendersi all’infinito. Gai continua a chiamarmi, vuole che torni da lei e da nostro figlio. Io vorrei soltanto scomparire, sciogliermi nel cemento che gettavo ogni giorno credendo di dare loro una vita migliore mentre costruivo solo muri più alti.»
Claudio was born in a small town in Central Italy. He received his BA from University of Rome in 2005 in Anthropology and Linguistics. After working for NGOs in Kenya and traveling around West Africa and Southeast Asia, he begun a PhD in Social Anthropology at Harvard University writing and researching about urban development, social movements, and history in Thailand, Cambodia, and Venezuela. In 2012 he published his first book, Red Journey: Inside the Thai Red-Shirt Movement with Silkworm Book and Washington University Press. In 2013, Claudio received his PhD in 2013. Currently he is based in Oxford University where he is a fellow of All Souls College, a research associate at the Future of Cities Center, and lectures at the Institute of Social and Cultural Anthropology.
EthnoGRAPHIC Thailand Review of the University of Toronto Press paperback (August 2021) translated by Chiara Natalucci from the Italian language original Il re di bangkok (April 2019)
The King of Bangkok is based on anthropologist Claudio Sopranzetti's long time research in Thailand centred around rural migrant labour and activism. The story uses a fictionalized protagonist Nok with his family of wife Gai and son Sun and his friend Hong. The stories told are non-fiction and are based on real life events. It spans 30 years of recent Thai history and is told in flashbacks by a present day Nok relating how he first came to Bangkok from his farming village in Northern Thailand and worked in various jobs in the South in order to send money home. The story culminates in the activism of the Thailand Red Shirt movement, and especially the resultant 2010 crackdown by the Thai military.
A view of the main railroad station in Bangkok, a stylized graphic version of which is used for the cover image of "The King of Bangkok". Image sourced from Thailand Travellers Blogspot.
The graphic novel was inventively drawn by artist Sara Fabbri in a stylized manner which did still allow for easy identification of the lead character. A framing device was used of separating the story into 5 chapters, each symbolized by the final 5 lottery tickets that Nok has to sell before finally returning to his home village.
The book is enhanced by a very thorough Appendix section which contains a historic timeline, an interview with the authors, a reading guide and a recommended further reading list. Although Thailand has gone through various periods of military dictatorships, the most recent parliamentary democracy has allowed for less censorship, so that The King of Bangkok was released in Thai as ตาสว่าง (2020) (The Thai title translates as "Bright Eyes", a Thai expression for one's political awakening) with only a minimal amount of text being redacted (3 lines which could have been interpreted as being critical of the monarchy, a crime in Thailand).
อันชื่อหนังสือ il re di Bangkok เข้าใจว่าเป็นภาษาอิตาลี ลองใช้กูเกิ้ลแปลภาษา ได้ความหมายออกมาว่า #พระมหากษัตริย์กรุงเทพมหานคร อืมมมม ก็ไม่อยากพูดอะไรเยอะ สมัยนี้เปราะบางพูดอะไรนิดหน่อยก็อาจติดคุกติดตารางได้
For those interested in the visualization and narrativization of trauma, (political in particular), this graphic novel is greatly recommended. This book contributes to the cultural archive of political trauma in Thailand. To me, it seems, there has been a surge in aesthetic texts grappling with the question of how to best represent and artistically capture traumatic experiences befalling those on the margins and this one does its job perfectly. If there is anything to be frustrated about, it is the ending, which, in my view, comes across as rather politically despondent as our protagonist is disillusioned with all that he used to cling to. In the face of chronic social inequality and structural oppression, deeply rooted in our country, I'd love to see more optimism. Yet, this is not my reason to dismiss this great book. The authors decide to end it this way for a reason, I believe. Anyway, five stars are what it truly deserves.
A graphic novel that focuses on blind lottery ticket selling Nok as he tries to sell his last five tickets before leaving the city. Each ticket sale transports him back to events in his life during the years from the early nineties until the Red Shirt protests of 2010. I always thought that the story of these many years of protest is a story that needed to be to be told. Having lived in Bangkok during the whole of that period, I can say I really appreciated the book. It triggered so many memories of my life in the city. Many of those memories were of the disturbances and coups in those years. They stretched from the coup in the early nineties when hostilities ended with Suchinda and Chamlong on TV walking across the room to the king on their knees to bring an end to the hostilities, right through to the descent into chaos in 2010 with the government crackdown and the deaths at Wat Phatum Wanaram. Having gotten over the flood of memories, however, I am aware that while the artwork is impressive, it is not all that effective at carrying the action, and the actual story lacks any real depth or analysis. It is more like an album of photographs that jogs the memories of those who lived in the city through those times than a serious work that does real justice to the story of the period. The real story itself is a story of struggle, a struggle that continued beyond 2010 and, as many would claim, still continues. I have always thought that the story of these twenty years of protest is a story that needed to be told. I can’t help feeling it still needs to be told.
Got my chance to finally put my membership at the National Library of Scotland to use. Read the English version at the library today.
Did I expect too much or is this really overrated? (I know, I know, I hate the word too.) What the author has achieved is by no means a small feat, but I do not think it is particularly illuminating. And for a piece of work that boasts the amount of research it has done, the narrative feels simplistic and surprisingly shallow. It seems to lose itself in the visual metaphors and formal representations but misses the entangled complexity (ironic, considering the octopus metaphor...). The ending is interesting since it is either utterly stupid or absolutely brilliant. There is also much that should probably be said about the way disability is treated as a metaphor in this, but maybe that's a conversation for another time.