Pamda Bure (aka Bunyaporn Burechittinanta) is a Bangkok based writer. Educated in Thailand, New Zealand, Japan, Australia and the UK, she enjoys exploring many facets of cultures worldwide and drawing inspiration from them. Peripatetic and adventurous, she is never daunted and always looks for the quietly amusing, idiosyncratic side of things regardless of the situation. When not immersed in writing stories or thinking about writing one, Pamda can be found pondering existential meanings. Her book Teacher Narit, published by Penguin South East Asia, swirling across the literary world. The Asian Review team was lucky to have her for our exclusive author interview for December.

Pamda Bure, it is always great to know the person behind a book loved by people. Before we start our conversation, could you care to let “The Asian Review” readers know who Pamda Bure is?

Well, I’m a writer, a third-generation Chinese immigrant born in Bangkok, an occasional philosopher, an incurable night owl who loves ketchup on pasta, and a procrastinator—perhaps the reason why it took me eight years to finish ‘Teacher Narit.’ Some would say I was lucky to be educated in Thailand, New Zealand, Japan, Australia, and currently pursuing my MSc in Psychology in the UK. I always find cultures to be the most attractive aspect of being in different places. My dream is to have complete global freedom of travel and maybe become a tango gypsy, my second love.

The title of a book reveals a lot. Let’s start with the title, “Teacher Narit.” What does the title signify to you, and how does it relate to the story?

The title aligns with the literary tradition of naming a book after its main character, you know, like ‘Harry Potter,’ when the narrative revolves around them. ‘Teacher Narit’ is one of those stories where the plot’s rhythm hinges on Narit – his experiences, struggles, and personal growth. To me, Narit is more than just a character. He’s a reflection of his time, embodying the sentiments of the era – its frustrations, hopes, and fears. The tension he goes through becomes pivotal, ultimately leading to what we now recognise as one of Thailand’s darkest periods – the 14th October 1973 Student Revolution.

The book is set in the aftermath of the sad events that took place on the 14th October 1973 revolution in Thailand. How does this historical context impact the story and its characters?

The impact on individuals varies, depending on how involved they are or the kind of people they are connected to. In Parts 1 and 3, readers can see how the aftermath of the revolution tests each character’s coping mechanisms and navigation skills, both physically and mentally. This is particularly true for Narit and Kwantar, the protagonists, with their interpersonal relationships tightly woven into the overarching story; the historical weight hits them hard. I mean, what can they do but reminisce when they believe the best years are past them and there is no way the future can match it? It’s a bit sad really Kwantar died believing that.

It was an era where the entirety of East Asia was in the crosshairs of Geopolitical tussles, which was a core reason for the event. What kind of space have you given to that wider picture?

The 1970s was an intense time for East Asia – China was in the midst of the Cultural Revolution, and the Vietnam War was ongoing. This era isn’t just a setting though; it’s a driving force of the story. With the spread of democratic and communist ideologies clashing with Thailand’s paternalistic regime, time basically becomes the catalyst behind the central event in the book’s narrative. ‘Teacher Narit’ shows how the pulse on the world stage influenced the students’ motivations. The revolution was never just a domestic event that individuals engaged in; it’s about the world they lived in and how it shaped their philosophy, which they acted on.

4. Narit, the protagonist, goes through a significant transformation to become a history teacher in northern Thailand. How does his character evolve throughout the novel? Does this resemble the reconciliation of Thai society in general?

After the revolution, Narit faces the entire disillusionment phase with Thailand as it undergoes yet another period of political recycling around the military. Narit was in so much denial that he had to disassociate himself from his traumatised past, leading to the creation of his new identity. And with his increasing resentment against politics, it’s only natural that Narit finds the unchangeable nature of history soothing.

However, I’m not entirely sold on the idea of ‘reconciliation.’ To me, ‘resignation’ feels more fitting for what the Thais as a society seem to be going through – just going back to the grind, muddling through everyday life the best they know how. It’s more like a collective sigh and an eventual acceptance.

5. How does history shape the current realities in Thailand? Is it a recurrent process of “history repeats” or a complete evolvement like “Narit” s life?

I think the impact of the event is complex and multi-faceted, much like Narit’s journey. Despite elements of history repeating themselves in aspects of Thai political drama, I’d say it’s an evolution. In order to survive, everyone and everything learns to adapt to the changing but somehow familiar realities that seem to stutter back and forth between military coups and political unrest across the years. It’s an exceptionally slow process, mainly due to corruption and Thailand’s strong gratuity system ingrained into the social fabric. So, when we talk about significant societal and political evolution, it’s not a matter of a decade or a revolution, but perhaps many decades and a lot of protests – unlike a sudden turn in any individual’s life. Consider the current realities: the ousted ex-PM, Taksin, has just been pardoned and welcomed to the country by a military-backed political party. Wouldn’t you say this is a rerun of a soap-like situation?

6. The story is told in three parts. How does this narrative structure contribute to your understanding of Narit’s journey?

The book begins at a point where Narit was still struggling to come to terms with himself. While most people wouldn’t change a thing and would do it all over again, Narit is the kind of man who keeps revisiting the past, contemplating on what-ifs, and reimagining life. He lives each day as if it were his last because he is afraid to make more mistakes, so he curates his daily actions carefully, a routine that could not go wrong. The three parts also mirror Narit journeying back and forth between versions of lives, dreams, and realities.

7. Narit’s past is filled with pain, disillusion, and regrets. How does his past shape his decisions and actions in the novel? (See above answer) Again, were you captivating the emotions the people had to go through in the face of the brutal crackdown?

The nation could be unified in its sentiments, although for those who lost their loved ones, they were undoubtedly more devastated and horrified. After the revolution and Thammasat’s Massacre that followed a year after, many dissidents fled the capital to restart their lives, while some immigrated to foreign countries – much like what Narit or his family decides to do. In order to remove the residues of the past, it’s natural for humans to want to wipe the slate clean for a possibility of renewed hope and lust-for-life enthusiasm.

8. The central themes of the book are Love and Redemption. Can you identify key moments where these themes are explored, and how do they impact Narit and the other characters? 

I would say the critical moment in the story unfolds during its resolution. It occurs when Narit visits Darin. Her existence forces Narit to confront his suppressed feelings of heartbreak and losses which he has been avoiding throughout the book. Unlike his memories that can be manipulated, Darin is here, and she cannot be unborn. So, the question becomes, how does he move forward? 

From the standpoint of other characters, such as the Doctor and Darin herself, however, Narit’s quest may be perceived as a selfish pursuit of self-redemption, with the cost being an intrusion into their lives, and them having to accommodate his presence. Yet, that’s a perspective open to interpretation, and something we may never fully comprehend.

9. In every conflict, political uprising and wars, humans harm their fellow beings and cause emotional damages that last for the longest time. Little effort is being given to make bridges between those who stood on opposing sides. Do you see your book as the bridge that could shorten the gulf between such communities? Probably that could be applicable to conflicts around the globe?

As much as I hope that Teacher Narit could contribute to the building of bridges that go beyond political divides, I’m afraid the book portrays an event that results from failed negotiation attempts. Unfortunately, political uprisings and wars have been with humanity since the beginning of time. It seems humans continually find causes to separate themselves into ‘them and us’ – from religions to nationalities to the brands they consume. And maybe when enough damage is inflicted and ‘winners’ emerge, reminiscent of events like Hiroshima, there is always a call ‘to be devoted to construction for the future.’ It’s very bitter. But eventually, lives go on in relative unity and resentment. If anything, Teacher Narit offers empathetic insight into the human experience of those who lose but are still trying to find some wins by seeking emotional forgiveness and redemption.

10. The novel is set in Northern Thailand, providing a vibrant backdrop for the story. How does the setting influence the characters and the plot?

The setting drew inspiration from my two-year residence in the north, where I’ve grown to love its layout and the way of life beyond Bangkok. The backdrop of Northern Thailand, unspecific yet quintessentially Thai, allows for a town small enough so that the characters can cross paths, given the limited number of people they can turn to for their needs. Additionally, the rural setup emphasises the contrast between the two distinct lives Narit experiences. So, it serves both symbolic and practical purposes in the narrative.

11. Narit is faced with a choice between seeking forgiveness or fleeing from his past. How does this choice symbolise his internal conflict, and what did you think of his decision?

On one hand, Narit wants to embrace hope for the future, akin to his younger self. On the other, because of what happened, he’s conditioned to believe that change is devastating, and taking a leap of faith ends in disappointment and a shattered sense of security. His path is to find solace and closure, and he doesn’t even see that as an option until the woman he loved resurfaces. You see, Narit is very stubborn. He is the one who jeopardises his own chance at happiness. Change is difficult for him. It’s too risky, as it requires putting his carefully nurtured identity at stake. Personally, I feel the story ends on a promising note. What Narit did in the last chapter is a small, yet necessary, step forward towards a more fulfilling life ahead.

12. As the book explores Thailand’s history, what did you learn or gain a deeper understanding of through the narrative?

There is this saying that Thai people forget easily and are too willing to forgive. Thailand is an accommodating society to a fault. The phrase ‘Mai Pen Rai’ (it’s ok/don’t worry about it) is adopted by most as a default response to any offender’s apology. I like to think that the book explores the cultural aspects and the nature of Thais as a nation. Thai society and its values have stayed largely unchanged. The politics are a bit stagnant. Narit has become disillusioned… as his creator, maybe I share his perspective?

13. The author, Padma Bure, has a diverse educational and cultural background. How do you think her background influences her writing style and the themes in the book?

First things first, my writing style: As English isn’t my mother tongue, the way my brain forms sentences differs from that of native speakers, who have often described my style as ‘distinct’ or ‘refreshing.’ However, this doesn’t always work in my favour. My publisher once informed me that a magazine refused to publish a review of my book because my writing style is not to their liking.

When it comes to themes, however, having a multicultural background is beneficial. During my bachelor’s degree, the course covered both European and Asian Studies, giving rise to my deep appreciation for history and literature. But the most influential factor for the themes is my proximity to the chosen piece of history. It is set in the time of my parents’ generation. My mum, a first-year student at Thammasat University during the revolution, often shared tales with me, which I incorporated into the book. Perhaps that’s why I feel a special connection to the revolution.

14. Recreating the historical narratives or inventing a newer version of it could alienate certain parts of society. Did you face such pushback or opposition? 

I have yet to face that. You know, as Barnum would say, ‘there is no such thing as bad publicity!’

15. In the end, what do you believe is the legacy that Narit leaves behind, and what message or reflection do you take away from his story?

For me, it’s what Narit’s father tells him, ‘Live while you can, people don’t become rational by choice.’ I would find it interesting to hear readers’ takes on this, so please write to me via reviews. I enjoy reading them.

Thanks again for this opportunity. I’d be grateful if you could let me know when it’s published.

by Dhanuka Dickwella