Arid Dreams

by Duanwad Pimwana, Mui Poopoksakul (Translator)

Overview

A social realist exploration from Thailand’s preeminent contemporary woman writer: "each of her stories poses its own moral challenge, pleasurable and unsettling at once." (NPR.org)

In thirteen stories that investigate ordinary and working-class Thailand, characters aspire for more but remain suspended in routine. They bide their time, waiting for an extraordinary event to end their stasis. A politician’s wife imagines her life had her husband’s accident been fatal, a man on death row requests that a friend clear up a misunderstanding with a sex worker, and an elevator attendant feels himself wasting away while trapped, immobile, at his station all day.

With curious wit, this collection offers revelatory insight and subtle critique, exploring class, gender, and disenchantment in a changing country.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781936932566
Publisher:	Feminist Press at CUNY, The
Publication date:	04/16/2019
Pages:	216
Sales rank:	860,054
Product dimensions:	5.25(w) x 8.00(h) x (d)

About the Author

Duanwad Pimwana (b. 1969) is consistently regarded as an important female voice in contemporary Thai literature. She won the S.E.A. Write Award, Southeast Asia’s most prestigious literary prize, in 2003 for her novel Changsamran, and is one of only six women to have won the Thai section of the award. Born to farmer parents, Pimwana attended a vocational school and started off as a journalist at a local newspaper. She published her first short story at the age of twenty and quickly gained recognition, earning awards from PEN International Thailand and the acclaimed Thai literary magazine Chorkaraket. Known for fusing touches of magic realism with social realism, she has written nine books. English translations of her work have appeared in Words Without Borders and Asymptote’s Translation Tuesday column. The author currently lives in her native seaside province of Chonburi, located on the Thai east coast.

Mui Poopoksakul is a lawyer-turned-translator with a special interest in contemporary Thai literature. Her first book-length translation The Sad Part Was (Tilted Axis Press 2017), a short story collection by Prabda Yoon, won a PEN Translates award. Her work has also appeared in various literary journals, including Two Lines, Asymptote, The Quarterly Conversation, and In Other Words. She studied literature as an undergraduate at Harvard College, and holds an MA in cultural translation from the American University of Paris. A native of Bangkok, she currently resides in Berlin.

Read an Excerpt

Inmate Somsak, my dear friend,

Unless you were pulling my leg, I’m happy for you. Allow me to say, your woman’s fantastic. These five years you’ve been behind bars, she’s probably been wandering around, tirelessly searching for evidence to support your case. A woman so true is hard to come by. I have to give her serious credit. If it were me, I’d even put her up on a pedestal and worship her like a goddess. Congratulations, old friend. You’re beginning to have hope, aren’t you? If the evidence works, they’d probably set you free in no time. I’ve believed all along that you’re innocent — I don’t need to see the evidence. I can read people. You were unlucky to have been locked up for somebody else’s crime, but you’re lucky when it comes to women. Once they let you out, if you want, you can tell her that I admire and respect her very much.

My old friend, I had to write you this letter for two reasons. First, we may never meet again because you’re about to be exonerated in the near future. Second, we may never meet again because they’re about to have me executed by machine gun. I’m not a good person like you, my friend, and so it’s fitting that you’re going to be free, whereas I’m going to be killed. The last two or three nights, I’ve been thinking about something. The closer my death looms, the more I can only think about this matter. I’m not afraid to die. Death is no big deal, but my mind keeps fixating on this one woman. We’re not actually particularly close, though we saw each other often. She’s just a run-of-the-mill hooker, not an eye-catching beauty or anything. In fact, I’d already forgotten about her. She returned to my thoughts only a few days ago. The story involving her and she herself would be insignificant if I had hope that I’d be spared or if I were at least further away from my death. This matter — I can’t tell you about it in person because I’m too embarrassed, but I can’t not tell you because I want your help.

I first encountered her at the top of my street. She appeared out of a dark corner next to my local coffeeshop and said her price was five hundred baht. I turned her down immediately. There was no major reason, but I already had three women I was sure were AIDS-free, and I didn’t want to chance it with a random streetwalker. But when I went to sit inside the coffeeshop, she followed me in and sat down with me. That day I was annoyed, but I was in a good mood. To ward off her persistence, I told her something that shut her up. I didn’t think she would believe me so I feigned a sad expression until she went away. When I told my buddies this story, we laughed about it so hard our jaws locked. But because she lived nearby, I later ran into her again. I thought what I’d told her that other day would make her quit pestering me for good. As it turned out, she made a beeline for me as soon as she spotted me, but she wasn’t offering her services. She smiled at me, greeted me nicely as if we were two people who had a warm and friendly rapport. When I went inside the coffeeshop, she followed me in. No, she wasn’t plying her trade. She was interested in what we had talked about the other day. When I realized what her intentions were, that she wanted to express her sympathy, I thought I’d have a little fun so I embellished somewhat more. From then on, even though we never sat down for a real chat again, the way she behaved toward me let me know that she was offering me her lifelong friendship. With others, she’d rush up to them and tell them her price, but with me, she’d nod with a smile, wave her hand, and openly say hello. It went on that way until I eventually got used to it and stopped giving it much thought.

My dear friend, I’m going to die soon, and you are the last friend that I have in this life. Out of all the friends I’ve ever had, you’re the best person and the only good one. I’m writing this letter and then holding onto it. I’ll give it to you right away the day before your release or the day before my execution, as the case may be. I want to be sure that you’ll get to read this letter only when there’s no chance we’ll ever meet again. It’s really humiliating for me, my friend.

What I want your help with is for you to go and find that prostitute. Do you remember the coffee shop at the top of my street? It’s the one you said you’d been to. Tell her that the story about the guy who got his dick cut off by his wife is a lie. Vouch for me, make her believe you. Maybe you could tell her you’ve showered with me. Help me, my friend. The past two nights, I couldn’t sleep a wink, and I’d probably die with my eyes wide open if a woman is under the impression that I don’t have that. I’m touched by the goodness of her heart, but I cannot allow her to have the wrong idea forever. Alas, if I hadn’t landed in prison, one day I would have told her myself. You can laugh at me, but I hope that you will help.

From Inmate Black Tiger, your true friend

Table of Contents

1. Arid Dreams
2. The Final Secret of Inmate Black Tiger
3. The Attendant
4. Way of the Moon
5. The Doctor
6. Within These Walls
7. The Awaiter
8. Sandals
9. How a Lad Found His Uncle and Learned a Lesson
10. Wood Children
11. Kanda's Eyebrows
12. Men's Rights
13. The Second Book

Editorial Reviews

Pimwana traces the inner lives of characters whose dreams fester in working-class eastern Thailand. Across these subtle stories of social realism, desire is the infrastructure for everyday life…Her stories elucidate moral choices made against the backdrop of seemingly prosaic events.

The New York Times Book Review - Antonia Hitchens

02/18/2019

In her incisive English-language debut collection, Pimwana profiles ordinary Thais as they look to realize their hopes and longings while navigating webs of family and community. In the title story, an unnamed young man returns to the beachside town of his youth, now overrun by tourists, and falls for a mysterious masseuse. “Sandals” follows two children, Tongjai and Kui, pulled from their lives in the city to help their parents in the sugar cane harvest. In “Wood Children,” Prakorb, an older man, grows concerned when his younger wife, Mala, begins carving children out of wood after they fail to conceive. Pimwana’s characters, whether they are truck drivers or farmers, doctors or prisoners, are realized with depth, affection, and a good degree of humor. The petty concerns of their daily lives—frustrated careers, infidelity, reconnecting with distant family— are hypnotically rendered in Pimwana’s telling. This is an exciting debut. (Apr.)

Publishers Weekly

"[Arid Dreams] cleverly exposes the torment of imposed gender roles and their sprawling effect on characters’ psyches." —The New York Times Book Review

“Each of her stories poses its own moral challenge, pleasurable and unsettling at once. Taken together, they are a phenomenal puzzle to read.” —NPR.org

“A confident writer at the top of her game, with a distinctive skill to conjure unique personalities on the page.” —Words Without Borders

“Every story is compelling and offers insight into a changing country.” —The Brooklyn Rail

“Incisive. . . . The petty concerns of [the characters’] daily lives—frustrated careers, infidelity, reconnecting with distant family— are hypnotically rendered in Pimwana’s telling. This is an exciting debut.” —Publishers Weekly

“Earthy, spare stories that paint a bleak portrait of human shortcomings.” —Kirkus Reviews

“One of the most gripping collections I’ve come across in years.” —Books and Bao

“A deep and thoughtful exploration of human psyches and the dreams of ordinary Thais in an ever-changing socio-economic environment.” —Bangkok Post

"An exacting look at the moments of joy and tragedy, of hope and desire." —Independent Book Review

“Interestingly unique.” —Paperback Paris

“Showcases the impressive literary talents of an accomplished and original storyteller.” —Midwest Book Review

“Arid Dreams is stark, sly, and unsparingly brilliant. Here is a writer unafraid to pick up the scalpel of her prose and use it to cut to the bone. Each story is more compelling than the last, each combines dark humor with deeper truths about human desire and depravity. I couldn’t look away.” —Preti Taneja, author of We That Are Young

"Arid Dreams is full of uncanny character studies that reveal entire social structures and relationship dynamics with a few deft sentences. Poopoksakul's translation brings to life Pimwana's sharp observations about the simultaneous banality and profundity of our everyday failings. An admirably incisive collection that takes an especially hard look at gender roles." —YZ Chin, author of Though I Get Home

“Duanwad Pimwana has a knack for finding the gap between who we are and who we’d like to be, and deftly inserting her scalpel there. Across the villages and cities of Thailand, her characters exist in a state of constant anxiety, unable to fit in but having nowhere else to go. Mui Poopoksakul’s highly effective translation navigates the slippery contours of Pimwana’s writing to capture a distinctly Southeast Asian sensibility.” —Jeremy Tiang, author of State of Emergency

“Pimwana’s deftly crafted stories perfectly capture the tribulations of Thailand’s myriad urbanized villagers. Dislocated from their origins and unable to form lasting connections with others, her characters are average people who struggle to find themselves in a fast-changing world where nothing seems certain, and where even the most modest of dreams is always just out of reach. A compelling read.” —Duncan McCargo, visiting professor of political science, Columbia University

From the Publisher

2019-02-04

Thirteen short stories by a Thai writer making her English debut examine life under the strictures of capitalism and rigid gender roles.

In these stories, published in Thailand from 1995 to 2014, villagers, prostitutes, and wage workers struggle with the impossibility of their dreams in lives marked by drudgery. In "The Attendant," an elevator operator thinks wistfully of a youth spent hauling cassava roots on a farm, in stark contrast to the atomized work his body does now, operating a deadening piece of machinery shaped like a coffin. In "The Awaiter," the title character is unemployed, aimless, and hoping for human connection when he finds money next to a bus stop and waits for someone to come back for it. Those who hope for a glamorous rise to the top end up reflecting bitterly on their choices: In "The Second Book," Boonsong becomes a promising politician thanks to his connections to a powerful kingpin; when that kingpin is killed, Boonsong's hopes—both his political ambitions and, eventually, even his childhood dreams—are summarily dashed. And in "Within These Walls," a politician's wife realizes, as her grievously injured husband lies in the hospital, that her life has been entirely defined by his choices. Because these characters are trapped, either by their circumstances or by their own obsessive thought processes, the prose is rife with repetition, an effective narrative strategy that can also become frustrating: "I was the one suffering from having to lay hands on it. Isn't it twisted? When I hurt others, I'm the one that suffers; when others hurt me, I'm the one that suffers again." Several of the stories are told with heavy irony from the perspectives of blinkered or boorish men whose foibles and fragility seemingly are the point. But these stories about gender also arrive at the most unsatisfying insights: In the title story, the sex-obsessed protagonist ultimately "realize[s] that, with women you'll never stand a chance of sleeping with, it's better to learn as much as you can about them, until lust gives way to other feelings." Many of these stories, though punctuated with flashes of mordant humor, conclude with similarly pithy, oddly formal lessons.

Earthy, spare stories that paint a bleak portrait of human shortcomings.

Kirkus Reviews