Thailand is a lonely place to be a bilingual. We straddle the linguistic and cultural balance on a daily basis, often speaking in the same language as those who surround us, and while you understand our words, it is rarely a given that you will understand what we actually mean to say. This sense of loneliness drenches ‘trespasses’ written by young Thai author Padcha Tuntha-obas to the extent that you could almost breathe the desperation within this work of art which will only be understood by a handful of people in this world.

It took me months to put pen to paper after I found the book lying innocently at my dining table at home in Bangkok one day. I laid it out on my bed, waiting for that moment before going to bed, the mix between solitude and peace which presented the wonderful opportunity to absorb oneself into anything.

I would read the book, assess it, and pass it on to someone for a formal review, I thought. After all, I am an aspiring academic, not a poet. I write social and political commentary, not book reviews. I appreciate literature, but rarely fully comprehend it. The conflict of interest is clear, for I know Padcha in person.

But I could not bring anyone else to review this book. Nor could I review it myself. I can only feel it, and share my feelings with it to you.

The collection of poems in ‘Trespasses’ combines Thai and English flawlessly to compose verses which are touching, yet unpretentious. I found myself skimming the pages back and forth as one would wander around in a museum or an art gallery, not caring where I was or where I would end up. Every time I turned to a page, I marvelled at how Padcha managed to transcend the barriers between Thai and English and make them sound like one.

‘translations in six steps: from Thai to English’ for example, makes use of transliteration, translation, and grammatical parallels between the two languages to translate to English a simple and classic text all Thai students learn in their elementary years. The footnotes in this section are poetic, noting grammatical differences between Thai and English which sound unusual – even nonsensical - to everyone, apart from the bilingual. 

Bilinguals use both Thai and English fluently, but we struggle to find a home or full acceptance in the culture and society of either language. As Padcha notes in ‘trespasses’:

                                    We speak English as

                                    a foreign language

                                    thus we should receive

                                    as perfect a score as

                                    possible. We are born

                                    strangers. Thus we must

                                    get a flawless score.

Perhaps we are born strangers not only to English, but to Thai as well. And for these reasons, the sense of loneliness within the book is overwhelming. Any passionate writer, already a rare species in today's world, would know how this feels, but Padcha’s mastery of both Thai and English puts this poet into an even more solitary position.

You can almost hear the unspoken questions ringing in the air. Where is my place in these two worlds I live in? I am explaining myself to you in the plainest of words in your own language, but will you ever understand me? This is me, can you not see? 

This book deserves a far more qualified reviewer, but as a fellow bilingual, I share Padcha’s loneliness and desperation. Perhaps we, and those like us, have been condemned to a private world and our secrets can be shared only little by little, but never in full. For those who entertain a glimpse into this world and its secrets, ‘trespasses’ could well be the key.

http://www.obooks.com/books/trespasses.htm