A Killing Smile First in the Land of Smiles Trilogy by Christopher G. Moore n 1957 Richard Mason's The World of Suzie Wong shocked the world with an exotic tale set in Hong Kong, then in 1973 Paul Theroux's Saint Jack followed with a powerful story set in Singapore, and in 1991 Christopher G. Moore's A Killing Smile has registered a tour de force with a haunting drama set in Bangkok. A Killing Smile is a simple but deep story about the aftermath of events following the death of a successful Los Angeles attorney's wife. Lost, confused, and angry, Lawrence Baring, Esq. goes to Bangkok and confronts Tuttle--the man his wife, Sarah, had once loved. The story follows the conflict and enveloping relationship of Baring and Tuttle in the underworld of Bangkok's Patpong, Soi Cowboy, and the late night meeting spot called HQ where spies, gangsters, diplomats, pimps, businessmen, writers, teachers, travellers gather along side the women they buy for the night. The novel is filled with twists and turns and atmosphere and absolutely fascinating characters shipwrecked in a society they vaguely understand.
Christopher G. Moore is a Canadian author who has lived in Thailand since 1988. Formerly a law professor at the University of British Columbia and a practicing lawyer, Moore has become a public figure in Southeast Asia, known for his novels and essays that have captured the spirit and social transformation of Southeast Asia over the past three decades.
Moore has written over 30 fiction and non-fiction books, including the Vincent Calvino novels which have won including the Shamus Award and German Critics Award and have been translated to over a dozen languages. Moore’s books and essays are a study of human nature, culture, power, justice, technological change and its implications on society and human rights.
Starting in 2017, the London-based Christopher G. Moore Foundation awards an annual literary prize to books advancing awareness on human rights. He’s also the founder of Changing Climate, Changing Lives Film Festival 2020.
Very much a book of its time A Killing Smile is both a work of fiction and a guidebook for those heading to the neon underworld of Bangkok's bar scene. Before the internet one had to turn to a novels like A Killing Smile to find out the juicy details about 'the scene'. The stuff that didn't make it into the guidebooks made it into works of fiction. The kind of information that may save a tourist from a broken heart, an empty bank account, or worse.
Christopher G. Moore is the pioneer of Bangkok noir fiction. Isaan b-girls, cutters, pissers, the scammers, the actresses. And their customers; lost alcoholics, grifters, chancers. Brilliant observations on the Bangkok nightlife. This book is the benchmark that all other books on the Bangkok bar scene (including Christopher G. Moore's) have had to follow. It set the standard that of what has amounted to an artistic movement of sorts: Bangkok Noir.
US lawyer Lawrence Barings’ wife Sarah dies in an auto accident. Lawrence travels to Bangkok to find his old college pal Tuttle who was romantically involved with Sarah in her college years. There are no great plot twists. Little action. The novel is rich in character, description and dialogue and most of all setting. Moore includes the material that a formulaic fiction writer may consider cutting. The scenes are left in because they're part of the overall picture. There are pages and pages of dialogues between expats sitting in the HQ, or Thermae, which any old hand knows well as an afterhours pick-up joint. The cast is fantastic. Crosby the English trust fund kid who grew up on hookers and darkness. Snow who wants to go up north with a box of New York magic tricks to become a Lahu Godman. The tussle between Laerence's western lifestyle and Tuttle's expat existance frames the major conflict and theme of the book.
The novel is mainly written in third person, yet switches to second person occasionally to add descriptive depth. It also employs journal articles and letters. In many ways the novel was and is a creative triumph.
This is one of Moore's early works set in Thailand and considered somewhat of a classic of the "farang in Bangkok's seedy bar world" genre. It essentially involves a relationship between two farangs in Bangkok, one a long-term expat and the other a visitor who is reeling from the death of his wife in the United States. Like some of Moore's other works, the characters are amazingly shallow and not particularly likeable. Some of the themes explored in the novel include jealousy, redemption, and forgiveness, and how these elements play out among the farang expat community in Bangkok (along with sex, the bar world. etc.). Familiar tropes and story lines abound.
I love novels set in Thailand, which is why I picked up this book. However, Moore's writing in this book is opaque and pretentious. To wit: "Economic progress was the gravity that warped the system of thought, values, and activity, not so much replacing morality as making it just another market force."
Maybe I understand what he's getting at? Then again, maybe I don't. Sifting through it isn't worth my spare reading time.
I sometimes wonder if I am the only farang in Bangkok who did not come here to spend my time in bars, wandering down the red light district, and involving myself with shady dealings. Instead, I live a sedate life on the western edge of Bangkok, reading several hours per day, sitting on my verandah, writing articles for scholarly journals, and maybe watching a movie in the late afternoon or early evening. And unbelievably for some, I did come here for the temples, spending a year working with the Ministry of Fine Arts documenting the restoration of a Mon temple in Pathum Thani.
As a result, this world Christopher Moore describes is utterly alien to me. I don't recognize its characters or its situations. And I've lived in Bangkok for thirteen years. My most exciting act for some weeks is to make the 4km walk to Foodland on Putthamonthon Sai 4. So the last thing I am interested in is barfly philosophy. And barfly philosophy is what the first half of Moore's novel consists of. I almost put it away. But my "completionist" personality wouldn't let me. On I went. And I'm glad I did. For Killing Smile redeems itself in the second half. No, not with the overwrought philosophizing dialog, which extends itself from the first half. But with the portraiture of men cut off and cast adrift whose only point of connection is the impoverished and desperate prostitutes streaming into Bangkok in order to hope for something better for themselves.
No. what Moore does really, really well is capture the essence of being an expatriate. An expatriate that is not some corporate nomad or foreigner on assignment in Thailand. This is expatriation as it was known for most of the 20th century, before smartphones, before instantaneous connection with "home," when being an expatriate meant being separated from the old and familiar world of family, places, sports, and food. That he does this in 1991, when Smile was published, means he caught the phenomenon of expatriation before it essentially made itself impossible. Right before the 21st century was to make "digital-nomad" a byword for an invasive species--young, wealthy Americans and Europeans stopping down in Southeast Asian countries and never connecting with them. Just spending time in overpriced bungalows, beach resorts, and wine bars, pushing up the cost of living for the locals. Instead of cutting themselves off from the old country, they cut themselves out of Thailand, Bali, Vietnam, wherever. I can't imagine Moore's Tuttle, Snow, Crosby, and Old Bill being more different than today's bunch.
By book's end, Smile rings true. It is a good idea to keep your head low, avoid mixing in the affairs of the wealthy and the powerful, don't make Asians lose face, and never mind when the fruit and vegetable truck comes through your village at 7 am with its loudspeaker going full blast. The only thing Moore forgot? Maybe the village dogs barking and howling at the slightest provocation for hours on end. Don't worry. After four or five years you get used to it and never hear them. Thailand's like that in a lot of ways. Don't let things bother you. Or you'll be sorry. Moore makes about as strong an argument for that as possible. Westerners need to adjust their attitudes, learn to live in what is another civilization. You're here. Adapt. You might be better for it in the long run.
After the death of his wife and at a total loss in life successful Los Angeles attorney Lawrence Baring gets invited to Bangkok, Thailand as a guest by his wife's former lover Robert Tuttle with a view to there being matters they ought to settle. This came as a massive surprise to Lawrence as he'd only heard the name Robert Tuttle about two or three times in the entire twenty two years of his marriage. What could there be to talk about and what possible matters could there be to settle. They were just two men who loved the same woman but whose lives went in totally different directions. One of the men walked down the isle in Seattle and settled in to married life with Sarah whilst the other attended the wedding and then vanished.
However, on going through his wife's personal belongings at her office, Lawrence comes across her old journals. Sarah had written twenty two journals, one journal for each year of their marriage and Robert Tuttle appeared in every one of them. It appears that throughout their 22 year married life that Robert Tuttle had never really been forgotten. Traumatized and in pursuit of answers, Lawrence eventually takes up Tuttle's invitation and heads to Bangkok. The meetings are not by appointment in a swanky office that Lawrence was used to, but by informal hanging out at the HQ bar - the Thermae Coffee House in Bangkok. This was an infamous nightlife spot where entrance was by way of a long dark alley if you arrived after midnight, whilst closing time was around six or seven o'clock in the morning, and the colour of money spoke volumes especially purple.
If some form of revenge was on the menu from either party then you'd have to put your money on Tuttle. He knew Bangkok well and how things worked, he spoke Thai admirably, and he was a legend of the HQ bar. Meanwhile, Lawrence wasn't sure which country Bangkok was in let alone know the language, and was out of his comfort zone when not billing for attorney hours worked. The trip takes Lawrence through Bangkok's underbelly as he gets immersed in the world and stories of The Thermae Coffee House. There are two questions to ask; how will it end? And have you ever been fooled by a smile?
The author not only hooks you with the detail of the story lines, but also educates you in Thai ways at the same time. The novel resonated with me in so many ways but knowing the streets, roads and places mentioned within the novel gave me an illustrated view as well and brought back golden memories of the old Bangkok as I knew it. The author is the master of Bangkok noir fiction, and this is a must read for those who enjoy this genre.