An Article in The Nation Newspaper, Thailand

About 20 years ago, as I was strolling along a street in Copenhagen, I bumped into Dr Montri Umavijani (1941-2006). I still recall that vivid memory of him. He was carrying his favourite bag, alone and walking as if he had lost his way or did not know where he should go. His movements were rather awkward, but his mind was fully alert, his eyes as sharp as an eagle's. No detail of his surroundings could have escaped his very keen observation. He was ready to record the particular experiences he encountered through the chain of events. Then he would compress those particular experiences into a very tight structure of unity in his thinking. His view of the world was essentially poetic.

This represented only a tiny part of Montri's long and unending journey through this world. He had a passion for travel. He did not write his poetry in a static mode. He sketched it while on the road or sipping coffee, the goal being to search for the ultimate truth and fathom the innermost level of human consciousness through experience.

Montri was by all means Thailand's greatest contemporary poet, well versed in both English and Thai. His poetry was very unique, largely resembling Japanese haiku. Although language was his special trade, he recognised its limits. He used the fewest words and the shortest sentences whenever possible. But the grandeur of his language was the highest art. When you read his poetry, you sense a voice that makes you really feel at home with one that speaks directly to your consciousness, a voice of nobility, rationality, aesthetics, sensibility and delicacy. His passion for language, literature, culture and the arts was all-encompassing.
There was a duality in Montri's view about our knowledge of the world, similar to that of the ancient Greek philosophers, who divided knowledge into the world of reality and the world of appearance.
The world of reality represents universal truths like virtue, beauty and justice, which will not change with time. One can only approach universal truth through rationality.

The world of appearance represents the corporeal world made known to us through our experiences and our senses.

Whenever Montri set off on a journey, his left foot would stay firmly in the world of reality, his right foot in that of appearance. Only through appearance could he sail safely back to his home of universal truth, at times Buddhist-like, other times like Shakespeare, Sunthorn Phu or Joseph Conrad.

He considered his journey to be an adventure, but not like those of James Bond or Indiana Jones. To him, there were two kinds of adventure: travelling from the world of the familiar to the world of the strange; and travelling from the world of the strange to the world of the familiar.
In Bangkok, he was like a stranger travelling back to the world of the familiar. He could not communicate very well with his fellow Thais, few of whom understood his world-view.
He liked to visit Wat Mahan on Din So Road, Wat Suthat, the Buddhist-amulet market at Tha Phra Chan in Rattanakosin. All of the permanent buildings or temples built by King Rama III were his favourite haunts. To him, Old Bangkok under the Third Reign marked the grandeur and glory of the Rattanakosin period. He searched for that lost glory and tried to revive it through numerous poetic writings and translations.

Only when he travelled abroad did Montri really feel Thai. A paradox, but one that made it possible for him to establish a sense of alienation before arriving at harmony and reconciliation with his experiences. In this sense, Montri was a universal man.
He would have been honoured everywhere he went by the ancient Greeks, the Renaissance sages, the Ayutthaya scholars or the Rattanakosin poets.
Montri died on February 21. But it marked only the end of the beginning of his long, continuous journey in search of knowledge, the secrets of our universe and the ultimate truth.
Thanong Khanthong