19th-century novels have their own pace – it always takes me a chapter or two to slow the fuck down when I’m reading one.
Sort of. It’s set in the same town, 200 years after the events that took place in Pillars. The characters here are descendents of those in Pillars. That’s all that’s common between the two - you don’t need to read the first to be able follow the second.
I’m 100 pages into **Bangkok Eight ** now, and I must say I’m enjoying it a lot. I read the first couple of pages with a little bid of dread, as it starts out sounding a bit like the Charlie Chan fortune-cookie style that one comes to expect with this sort of novel over here. But it soon becomes apparent that it’s really not like that, at least not too much.
The author, John Burdett, does know Bangkok very well. There’s the usual mix of real and made-up places. For instance, there are several bridges across the Chao Phraya River in Bangkok, but none is called the Dao Phya Bridge. The US Embassy really is on Wireless Road, however, and really was rebuilt across the street after the August 1998 African bombings, with the old embassy still seeing service for visa-seekers and American Citizen Services.
But I keep picking up on little glitches that leave me scratching my head (not unusual with books in this genre). For instance, Nana Plaza is real, as are Hollywood 2 and Carousel Bars. I’ve spent many an hour in those and other bars in Nana Plaza. And yes, I have indeed myself held balloons over my head and had them shot out of my hand with well-aimed vaginally propelled darts. But Burdett claims that Nana’s big “Buddha shrine” (which is actually a spirit house, a holdover from the old animist days that predated Buddhism in the land) is in the “north corner of the courtyard.” Well, there is no north corner. There is a northwest corner and a northeast corner, but the shrine is, in fact, in the southwest corner. He also describes Nana Plaza as “three tiers of bars, short-time hotels and brothels.” Well, bars yes, but there is only one short-time hotel and NO brothels per se as in, say, Annie’s up the street. There was one years ago for a very brief time, but it did not last long and changed into a bar long before Burdett wrote his book.
(But Burdett has it absolutely correct when he writes, “The bar on the corner is dedicated to transsexuals, who like to make up in public at mirrors on a table on the balcony.” That’s Casanova Bar he’s describing, and believe me, you’ll walk past there very quickly if you don’t want one of the “girls” grabbing your crotch suddenly and forcefully.)
Another oddity is Khao San Road, which he renders as Kaoshan Road. He describes the road perfectly. However, I’ve seen it spelled Khao San, and I’ve seen it spelled Khaosan, but never in all my years here have I ever seen it spelled Kaoshan until now. Thai does not even have the “sh” sound. On the odd occasion you do see an “sh,” such as in the last name of the prime minister who was ousted in our latest military coup last year, but it’s still pronounced “ch.” (It’s actually become somewhat fashionable among the trendy set to spell the “ch” sound as “sh” in surnames and such; they think it’s an exotic Western thing to do, but it’s still pronounced “ch.”) He does it again with Khun Sa, the opium warlord in Burma, whose name he spells Khun Sha. Never seen that before. And the book came out in 2003, but he makes it sound like Khun Sa is still an opium warlord at that time. In reality, he surrendered to the Burmese army almost 12 years ago after cutting a deal and has lived in luxury in Rangoon ever since, with other warlords taking his place. (By coincidence, I just heard this afternoon that Khun Sa just died today Tuesday.) And speaking of drugs, he makes out like amphetamines have been a problem here for about 30 years, but really it’s only been in then past decade. More than 10 years ago, certainly 15 years ago, you’d be hard-pressed to hear about the stuff. It’s a real problem now, though.
Another slight nitpick: No respectable corrupt cop would be caught dead drinking the local Mekong-brand rice whiskey. That’s stricly for the poor (and for farangs like me who still drink it as a souvenir of our wasted younger days here.) Wealthy Thais always without fail drink expensive imported whiskies and cognacs. Serving anyone Mekhong would be a serious loss of face if you were that wealthy.
But these are minor quibbles. I’m actually enjoying the book and plan to pick up **Bangkok Tattoo ** afterward. 
In honor of Halloween, yesterday I read a nifty little horror story – Dark Harvest by Norman Partridge. It reminded me of The Lottery by Shirley Jackson.
But he got the corn wrong. Writers always get the corn wrong. Jericho got the corn wrong. If it’s late October, the stuff being harvested isn’t the kind of corn people will eat – it’s going to be stored in grain bins and elevators. He also put a church in the town square. It was necessary for the story, but I’ve never seen a church in a town square, not in the midwest. If your town has a square, that’s where the courthouse is.
Recommended despite those minor nitpicks. Partridge is a fine writer. The blurb on the book says that this made Publisher’s Weekly’s list of the 100 best books of 2006. Unusual for a horror title, unless you’re Stephen King.
Getting it on your recommendation!
Cool! If you think when you start reading that you know where the story’s going and are tempted to go “Feh” and put it down, don’t.
If you like the book, another good one by Partridge is Slippin’ Into Darkness. That’s the only other one of his I’ve read, but I’ll be picking up some more.
I’m switching between…
The Selfish Gene
Cloud Atlas
Ghostwritten
The Reality Dysfunction
Robot Dreams
We Can Remember it for you Wholesale
And others
Some unexpected money came in the mail today, so I went to Amazon. Got Michael Chabon’s new book, and one that looks intriguing – Eifelheim by Michael Flynn.
From Amazon: "A present-day scientific odd couple who are longtime domestic partners, physicist Sharon Nagy and historian Tom Schwoerin, look into the fate of the Black Forest village of the title, which apparently vanished in the plague year 1348, in Flynn’s heartbreaking morality play of stranded aliens in medieval Germany.
Most of the narrative focuses on the consequences of the discovery in the 14th century by Eifelheim’s pastor, Father Dietrich, of a crashed space ship carrying the “Krenken,” horrific grasshopperlike aliens. Despite Inquisitorial threats, Dietrich befriends, baptizes and attempts to help the aliens return home."
Doesn’t that sound interesting? Bizarre, but interesting.
Anyone read either of these books? Please don’t tell me I wasted my money.
Man, I love when that happens. The only thing I do differently is I often go to Borders instead (just because I can preview the book and I love the “feel” of a “live” book store.)
Well we had enough interest right until the end such that maybe a monthly thread will work. Here is the one for November. (I know I’m a day early, but that is common for me. I do it when I remember to.)