'Sao Hai': the City Pillar, the Crying Tree Trunk, the Goddess Shrine, And
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South East Asia Research ISSN: 0967-828X (Print) 2043-6874 (Online) Journal homepage: https://www.tandfonline.com/loi/rsou20 ‘Sao Hai’: the city pillar, the crying tree trunk, the goddess shrine, and contradictions in the sacralization of nature Phacharawan Boonpromkul To cite this article: Phacharawan Boonpromkul (2019): ‘Sao Hai’: the city pillar, the crying tree trunk, the goddess shrine, and contradictions in the sacralization of nature, South East Asia Research, DOI: 10.1080/0967828X.2019.1673607 To link to this article: https://doi.org/10.1080/0967828X.2019.1673607 Published online: 21 Oct 2019. Submit your article to this journal View related articles View Crossmark data Full Terms & Conditions of access and use can be found at https://www.tandfonline.com/action/journalInformation?journalCode=rsou20 SOUTH EAST ASIA RESEARCH https://doi.org/10.1080/0967828X.2019.1673607 ‘Sao Hai’: the city pillar, the crying tree trunk, the goddess shrine, and contradictions in the sacralization of nature Phacharawan Boonpromkul Department of English Language and Literature, Faculty of Liberal Arts, Thammasat University, Bangkok, Thailand ABSTRACT KEYWORDS ‘Sao Hai’ (2003) is a short story by the renowned Thai author Daen- Sao Hai; Daen-aran aran Saengthong that retells the myth of the crying pillar, a female Saengthong; the crying pillar; spirit believed to have dwelt in an ironwood for a millennium before Thai Ecocriticism; tree spirits the tree was hewn down and transported to the capital, Bangkok, to serve as the city pillar in 1782. Transforming this oral, provincial tale into a literary text, Daen-aran adds depth to the myth of Sao Hai by personating the compelling figure of this grieving goddess, now a sacred tree trunk worshipped by locals in Saraburi province. Noting the absence of any ecological agenda in either of the versions of the Sao Hai story, this research paper critiques the socio-political and environmental implications of the quest for the city pillar. Its central argument concerns the inseparable contradictions that lie between the sacralization of nature and the dominant royalist-nationalistic discourse in Thai literature and culture. The paper further enquires into the acts of transformation – materially that of the tree and aesthetically that of the story – in relation to environmental conservation at large. At the same time, questions are raised regarding the author’s representation of the non-human and the story’s prevailing note of loss. ‘Sao Hai’ (2003) by Daen-aran Saengthong1 (real name Saneh Sangsuk) is a revision of the myth of the same name and tells of a female spirit who lived in an ironwood2 for a mil- lennium, before the tree was hewn down and transported to serve as the city pillar in the founding of the new capital of Bangkok in 1782. This story has elements that might gen- erate ecological consciousness because it deals with a natural entity as an object of deep respect, and because it seems to raise awareness about the fragility or loss of nature.3 Also, the key protagonist is a non-human being, which may help readers develop an CONTACT Phacharawan Boonpromkul [email protected] 1Daen-aran Saengthong is an internationally recognized contemporary author who won the South East Asian Writer Award (SEA Write Award) for his short story collection Venom and Other Stories (อสรพิษและเรื่องอื่นๆ) in 2014. His earlier novel White Shadow (เงาสีขาว) (1993) was translated into French, English, Spanish, Italian and Portuguese, and has sold more than 100,000 copies in Europe. The novel resulted in Daen-aran being awarded a medal of the Chevalier de l’Ordre des Arts et des Lettres in France in 2001 (‘The French Legion of Honour’ 2008). 2Ironwood (Hopea odorata) is a large hardwood tree found in tropical rainforests in South East Asia and South Asia. It can grow up to forty meters and is often believed to house female spirits 3In recent academic debates, the word ‘nature’ has been laden with implications and its definition has been much ques- tioned as the nature/culture distinction has eroded (See McKibben 1989; Descola 2005; Clark 2011). Here this word is used in a traditional sense of a physical world or a material universe existing and operating largely apart from human control, though, as this article will show, incessantly subjected to human physical intervention and cultural imposition. © 2019 SOAS University of London 2 P. BOONPROMKUL ecocentric mindset. However, from the author’s ‘Afterword’ and his subsequent inter- views, there is no mention of any concern or purpose of writing in connection with environmental thinking or conservation. The same goes for critical studies of this short story. In the article ‘Re-narrating a local myth, reproducing the Thai “royalist-nationalist” narrative: “The Myth of Sao Hai” by Daen-arun Saengthong’, the only academic study of this short story to date, Wanrug Suwanwattana (2015) focuses on the disruptive quality of this myth against the mainstream narrative and on the tension between local history and royalist-nationalist history, without any mention of the female spirit in relation to the physical or natural world. The major task of this research paper, therefore, is to argue how the two key issues in this story, i.e. the concept of the city pillar and the sacrality of nature, present problematic political and environmental implications in the context of Thailand. In the last section, the paper also investigates the current situation and the alleged power of this ironwood as an object of worship, and evaluates the potential of this short story as a piece of Thai environmental literature. The following is a synopsis of Daen-aran’s ‘Sao Hai’. The story begins with the unnamed narrator’s plea to the reader. I would like all of you to walk and converse quietly, and to remain solemn. All you honour- able people, I would like to plead that you calm your mind just as if you were standing right in the face of the greatest of the mighty sovereigns, glorious and magnificent with miraculous powers. I would plead that you remove your hat and shoes, fold up your umbrella. Bow down and light some incense sticks and candles. Then place flowers in the vase and prostrate three times in front of this humble and strange altar … upon which lies not a Buddha image, nor sculptures of gods or heroes, nor any fantastical beasts from fairy tales. Instead it is a piece of wood, the girth of which can be embraced by only one person. Approximately twenty metres in length, it is round, smooth, and tapering perfectly as if sculptured by the most distinguished artist. Wholly gilded so that it shines brightly, the wood is the abode of one of the most divine spirits in the universe. (Daen-aran 2014, 155–56, my translation4) The narrator continues with the legend of this female spirit, known as Nang Takhian (the ironwood lady: นางตะเคียน)orMae Nang (the maiden: แมนาง). Having lived for a millennium, this nameless deity is perennially youthful and exceptionally beautiful. Her residence is no other than the one-thousand-year-old grand ironwood (Hopea odorata: ตะเคียน), located in the virgin forest just above the Pasak River. It is a lofty and beauteous tree, and the lady – holding a queen-like position over all the nymphs – has always been proud of it. Occasionally some mortals come across this tree and build a small shrine, lying prostrate and imploring her to leave the tree for they would cut it down to serve as the main pillar for a lord’s house, the hull of a racing boat, or the funeral pyre for some chiefs or rulers. She never consents; if those men make any attempt to fell it, they would be driven away by her life-threatening, supernatural force. Being clairvoyant and having lived for so long, the spirit witnesses countless heroic deeds and the rises and falls of Siamese kingdoms, as well as the complete destruction of the capital of Ayutthaya. That last incident fills her with such grief that the tree’s formidable trunk bends down and convulses in pain, soaked throughout with blood-red resin, its green foliage turning scarlet. Beside the miserable trunk stands the devastated spirit, now emaciated and pale. Her hair is dishevelled, tears roll down her cheeks, and the forest echoes with the sound of her weeping. 4As the short story has not been translated into English, all extracts from the text are my own translation. SOUTH EAST ASIA RESEARCH 3 In the year 1782,5 a public notice is promulgated to all provinces that King Rama I is plan- ning to establish a new capital city and seeking the finest of all woods to serve as the city pillar in Bangkok. An old hunter, widely experienced through years of roaming in forests, realizes that the most excellent tree is this ironwood. After weeks of searching and tracking, the woodsman finds the tree still devastated but with the same superb beauty. Once a fine shrine is built and delicate oblations are offered, he begins an impassioned supplication to the spirit, recounting his honest determination to requite the kindness of the homeland and her chance to contribute to the foundation of the new kingdom. Nang Takhian envi- sages a grand vision of the new capital and consents; so the men quickly strike down her corporeal body. Once she’s turned into a log, a raft is made to carry her downstream to the city. People along the river are awed by her beauty and press their palms together to show respect and praise her. But alas, as the raft enters Saraburi province, the news reaches the team that it is too late since the state has already chosen the city pillar.