The Prince of Enigma, Sister Wendy and an elephant called Caligula



Overnight to Nong Khai 

Back in the nineties I used to do visa runs across the Mekong to Laos then spend a few days recovering in the Meeting Place, a guesthouse tucked away down a side street in the sleepy border town of Nong Khai. The guesthouse attracted nefarious westerners with activities to match. One particular oddball was the Prince of Enigma, a black guy with razor-sharp sideburns and a French accent who told me he was staying in the temple opposite. Over the course of three late nights, he popped into the guesthouse always as I was about to lock up (Alan the owner had unwisely left me in charge while he went on a trip to the Plain of Jars).

Pointillist interpretation of the PoE

In return for discounted German beer and Sangthip whisky chasers, the Prince told me an entertaining story about a long-forgotten French expedition to Siam sponsored by Napoleon – whilst all the time avoiding my questions about what exactly he was doing in Nong Khai. After the third night I never saw the Prince again and when I asked the abbot in the temple neither he nor his monks knew anything about him.
  

The eight years I spent in Thailand were very much the ‘the best of times, the worst of times’ and when I eventually returned to the UK I was armed with a burning desire to write fiction, finally fulfill a childhood promise. But write

Wat Pho Jai, Nong Khai

what exactly? OK, I knew I didn’t want to write about the usual suspects. You know, about bargirls or Pattaya criminals or backpackers with all that stereotypical baggage. No, give readers a fresh take. Share the passion. Somehow draw on my experiences to take readers on an exciting, wholly unexpected journey. And then I remembered the Prince of Enigma.  

Back in the UK I soon got myself a job and enrolled on a two-year MA in Creative Writing at Brunel. In my limited free time I pored over my diaries, books and notes (forever jotting things down in temples, cafes and sing-a-song restaurants). I eventually decided there were two ways to go: write an adventure based on the Prince’s tale or a crime story in a retro Thai setting. Based on the mass of popular crime novels out there and absolutely zero interest in Siamese gothic adventure I reckoned on crime being the savvy, sensible commercial choice.

So naturally I started work on a gothic adventure. As well as the Prince’s story, I drew heavily on my collection of non-fiction books by European travelers of the time (published by White Lotus). The best was Aymonier’s Isan Travels, a

treasure trove of maps and detailed descriptions of journeys all across north-east Thailand; its cities, everyday life, rituals and folklore. I also delved into ghost books. My primary source was Gothic Short Stories edited by David Blair, which I’d acquired for a mere seventy baht in a Siam Square bookshop. I slipped in all sorts of references to this wonderfully macabre collection, such as the haunted 252 Rue M. le Prince, the eerie Dragon Volant Inn and Schalken the death-bride painter. I also included broader gothic themes like vampirism and hidden knowledge. I thoroughly enjoyed the challenge of researching the novel. Surprisingly, there were actually elements of the Prince’s story grounded in fact so I learnt a lot about Old Siam as well as getting reacquainted with forgotten stories I’d once read and really enjoyed. It was like meeting old friends again.

Two and a half years later the novel was finished. Around one hundred and twenty thousand words in length, it had first been called The Pagoda of Earthly Delights and then The Adventures of Baron Schalken. The former title was based on Bosch’s painting, the latter on Sheridan Le Fanu’s ghost story. The novel’s fast-paced plot centered on a rogue Napoleonic general who escapes France and leads a motley crew in search of treasure in Siam. A speculative element to the historical world setting was hinted at. There was swashbuckling swordplay, shadow-filled jungles and 
oversized hats. Throughout 2006 I sent the manuscript to agents and publishers all over the world – only to be met by complete and utter indifference.

Garden of Earthly Delights, Hieronymus Bosch

 

Hugely disappointed I took a time out and concentrated on finishing the draft manuscript of my next novel. But the Baron kept tapping me on the shoulder and I eventually returned to the haunted streets of Paris and pagodas of Old Siam. Of course, I fell in love with it all over again – I still believed in the Baron and his extraordinary escapades – but I realised the novel didn’t really work on a number of levels. For a start the language was too archaic. A better framing narrative was needed, more female characters and some way of better drawing in the reader. The speculative and the occult needed to be bolder too. So I got to work all over again.

By December 2010 the novel had been retitled Shadows and Pagodas, and undergone a series of major and minor transformations with the help of formidable taskmaster Doug Watts, copy-editor at JBWB.

I got the idea for a framing device from Sister Wendy, the celebrity nun who lived in a caravan. No, honestly. She narrated a TV series and wrote a book on fine art, and made the subject refreshingly accessible, unpretentious. One of the paintings Sister Wendy explored was Charon Crossing the Styx by Joachim Patinir. His brooding masterpiece was perfect! I worked the painting into the beginning and end of Shadows, linking its religious symbolism and weird landscapes directly to the story.   

The main character had morphed into Baron Parzifal: now a contradictory, outrageous rogue of uncertain origins who bore an uncanny resemblance to the Prince of Enigma and had a gift for mesmerism. Two strong female characters made their entrance in the form of the Baron’s formidable, resourceful niece Camille and the rapier-thrusting Condesa Isabella. The reader was drawn into the action by sharing in young Peter Fielding’s journey of self-discovery as he becomes embroiled in the adventure.

Heavy Medieval Symbolism

If readers chose they could now enjoy the story on another level as a retelling of the Grail legend with a Buddhist-occult edge. The expedition a Quest for a Treasure that promises Redemption becomes a journey on the Path to Enlightenment. Numbers became significant: three temples (Triple Gem), the Four Noble Truths and so on. A wily Buddhist abbot makes a number of comic appearances and, of course, we have Parzifal himself as a supremely inappropriate reincarnation of a Grail knight.

I developed the speculative elements of the novel’s ‘topsy-turvy’ world. For example, the Emperor’s victory at Waterloo, espionage, campaigning in the Americas and the battle of Tolentino replaced by Otranto. I also described in much richer detail a weirdly-skewed Paris now in thrall to the magical allure of Ancient Egypt. Sarcophagi stacked in a cart outside an occult bookshop, nasty beasties lurking in the sewers…    

Gone is the heavy nineteenth-century narrative, replaced by a faster-paced contemporary style. However, for the dialogue I was careful to retain old forms of address and vocab where possible. I also took a deep breath and put my foot down on The Rather Absurd Dark Comedy Pedal. The result of all this? Rather than a restored piece of gothic, the novel now read a little like an extended episode of Blackadder or Monty Python! Comedy counterpointed by violent disaster. Pathos and bathos poured in generous measures.  

I also decided to sub-title the novel A Meddlesome Adventure. This was important because I really believe the model established with Shadows has enormous potential as a starter for a whole series of adventures in which the Baron subverts history in an absurd and darkly comic way. 

Finally, I taught myself how to build a website, set up a blog and use Serif PhotoPlus. These are great. They’ve enabled me to post ‘dusty secrets from the attic’ – notes, ideas and musings – for my readers and get all creative. Pre-digital these would have appeared as author’s notes at the back of a printed book, which actually I started preparing in the novel’s earlier reincarnation. Some of these dusty secrets must go back ten years now. It’s really interesting see how the novel has evolved! I’ve even managed to rescue a few of the Baron’s rather awful poems he composed for his elephant Caligula.

And I guess that’s the story behind the story. On reflection, it’s been quite a journey from that guesthouse in Nong Khai to a lovingly crafted work of speculative fiction. But as the Baron told Vinkle on the steps of the Temple of the Destroyer, “It’s a long walk to heaven, Doctor!”

Nong Khai now (Annette's Asia blog)