Chart Korbjitti, No Way Out, 1980

A short novel that describes the almost systematic dismantling of a Bangkok family, as a result of the poverty trap they find themselves in when the father tries to take them out of rented accommodation and into a corrugated metal-and-wood shack of their own. Korbjitti is spare with the details, though through the multiple viewpoints of the family he provides more than enough information to give a clear picture of their circumstances while at the same time leaving it to the reader to decide where the blame may lie. A sad but very true book for many, Korbjitti has won two SEA Write Awards for his explorations of Thai social issues that few Westerners get to see, let alone experience.  PY

MORE ON CHART KORBJITTI : WIKIPEDIA

Chart Korbjitti, Carrion Floating By, 1987

You’re driving at night and fall asleep at the wheel, triggering a car crash: in Thailand, this makes you fair game for everyone else involved who will claim compensation for injuries, damage and loss of income, and the cost to you now has to be negotiated and bargained. You’re now carrion for the vultures who all want a piece of you, but when you happen to work in advertising, doesn’t this then become tit-for-tat? This is a dryly amusing book and mildly satirical even though it’s deliberately light on laughs. Told throughout in the second person, Korbjitti intended the narrator’s gender to be undetermined but this somehow became lost in translation from Thai to English, with the reader, at key points, necessarily being provided with a male narrator; otherwise, barring a few minor errors in English this is a translation that reads very fluently. I’m getting to understand Korbjitti’s point of view: he’s uncompromisingly socialist, and his books that I’ve read so far have been well-observed and unremittingly mundane in subject matter, yet with an emotional impact reserved for the closing scenes that has so far never failed to hit the mark.  PY

MORE ON CHART KORBJITTI : WIKIPEDIA

Chart Korbjitti, Time, 1993

A Thai film director goes to the theatre to see what has been billed as Bangkok’s most boring play of the year, in which half a dozen elderly women live their usual uneventful day in a care home for the aged. That may sound like a very dull premise for a novel, and perhaps it is, but deliberately so. Time earned Korbjitti his second SEA Write Award, and to find out why means ploughing through two hundred pages of rather mundane dialogue mixed with some minor personal crises. There are some winning passages in which Korbjitti gets people to look at their own lives in relation to what’s being acted out on the stage; these are the novel’s most interesting aspects as the sheer dullness of these ladies’ existence – as people essentially discarded from Thai society – makes for tough reading because there is so little in what they do that will engage a reader. We often don’t expect to encounter such uninteresting everyday activity in a novel let alone on a stage, so it’s only the varieties of circumstantial self-reflection and analysis that Korbjitti puts a few of his characters through that will give Time any value. Does he succeed? Within such a deliberately uneventful book it’s the journey’s end here that matters, and I doubt I will read a book this year that has a better ending. Its conclusion was so unexpectedly moving, as well as being downright clever, that it left me speechless, making me pause for five minutes before I could do anything else. Time may have an empty vacuum at its heart, but it’s a worthwhile and rewarding experience and – after some further introspection – only a superficially hard journey getting there.  PY

MORE ON CHART KORBJITTI : WIKIPEDIA