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(More customer reviews)Chanya, the most profitable lady at the Old Man's Club, is holed up with an opium pipe, her blood-soaked clothes decorating the stairs to her room. A couple of streets away lies is the mutilated corpse of a farang (foreigner) and a single rose in a plastic mug of water. The Thai Royal Police Colonel Vikorn dictates Chanya's statement, phrasing it in such a way as to cover all possibilities when blame is cast. Police Detective Sonchai Jitpleecheep artfully transcribes Vikorn's report, because that is how things are done here in District 8. Unfortunately, the mutilated corpse is CIA and the victim's ID carries inherent problems. The murder could be blamed on Al Qaeda, but how do you justify a terrorist/castration murder?
In Bangkok, where pragmatism rules the day, the Colonel is also a gangster and the police often supplement their salaries by working in brothels. Such is Sonchai's case, policeman by day, dedicated papasan by night. Sonchai is following the path of the Buddha, but constantly challenged by Vikorn's manner of doing business. A Muslim shows up at the club where Sonchai is overseeing the girls as they attach themselves to customers. Disdainful, the Muslim, Mustafa, unfolds a picture of the dead man, then leaves his card. Mustafa's father is an imam, who welcomes the detective, explaining that his network has been tracking the CIA agent. Now the imam is worried about being blamed for the murder, a convenient answer to everyone's problems.
What is so fascinating about this novel is the total immersion in Thai culture, from Buddhist practices to ancient rituals, alongside the very practical approach to the vagaries of human sexuality. This is a country that happily accepts all its differences, a finely tuned morality tempered with understanding for the many challenges that face the people who coexist in a difficult world. To read it is to think it, to experience life surrounded by the exoticism of Eastern values and thought processes. Throughout, advice is narrated to the "farang" reader, explaining the easy order of business in Thailand, "Farang, tell your evangelists not to bundle salvation with the work ethic. It really doesn't play in the tropics."
Bangkok Tattoo is a complicated slice of drama, an angst-ridden CIA agent hopelessly in love, tormented by his duty and religious beliefs vs. his amorous obsession; the Americans' interminable quest to tie every violent act to a subversive plot by Al Qaeda to undermine the moral of the American people; the naturally pragmatic and corrupt system of the accommodations of the Thai personality; and a group of Muslims trying to avert an excuse for war in their part of the country, hyper-aware that they are the bogeymen du jour. The ubiquitous Sonchai watches all unfold, reporting to Vikorn, yearning for Chanya, a dutiful son and conscientious policeman. Sprinkle in a Japanese tattoo artist, the community of katoeys (transsexuals-in-progress), a couple of gruesome murders that include castration and flaying, a dash of karma and mix well. This is the perfect recipe for a spicy Eastern mystery that is uniquely satisfying. Luan Gaines/2005.
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