To the untrained eye, Thai paintings can be hard to decipher. They look confusing, crowded with colorful figures that appear similar in detail and character, leaving no place to focus one’s attention. For those who wish to study Thai painting in its various forms—murals, banners, and manuscript painting—guidance from a visually rich, scholarly book would be invaluable. Reading Thai Murals by David Wyatt, the distinguished American historian of Thailand, should be such a book but falls short of the mark.

Attractively presented, Reading Thai Murals focuses on the distinctive Buddhist murals dating from the late nineteenth century at two temples, Wat Phumin and Wat Nong Bua, in the former kingdom of Nan in northern Thailand. The book identifies for the first time the talented artist who painted them, Thit Bua Phan, from Laos. The subjects in the murals are related to the history of the kingdom of Nan, about which Wyatt knows a great deal, but problems of the interpretation of the paintings soon arise.

Reading Thai Murals contains twelve brief essays with the author’s thoughts on various topics, including “Murals as Teaching,” “A Patron Decides,” “Double Entendre,” “Reading Social Dimensions,” “Puzzles and Conundrums,” “Those on the Walls,” “Soldiers at War, and “Intra-and Inter-Cores.” Some essays are observations of what is depicted in the murals, others offer a historical setting for the murals, and the rest are the author’s musings on possible meanings of things that are ambiguous or possibly ambivalent in the content of the murals. For instance, “Intra-and Inter-Cores” is about sex (inter-cores = intercourse).

With regard to the similarity and repetition of figures in the murals, for example, Wyatt writes that the people depicted at Wat Nong Bua are composed in a great variety of postures and facial expressions (15). But looking at the accompanying illustration on the same page, we see about fifty faces and postures that all look incredibly similar. The assertion leaves the reader feeling confused and frustrated.

On the same page, Wyatt identifies a scene near the upper left of the reproduction. The attentive viewer can see a woman lying down next to a group of grieving and perturbed women to her right. But Wyatt quizzically writes:

Note in upper left the image of a man exposing the soles of his feet. It is well known that this is an extremely insulting gesture in Thai culture, which is usually avoided. Accordingly, the women to his right are acting horrified, and move to keep the man away. There is no caption here to tell us what is going on. Perhaps there is a hidden joke: the artist may have been indicating one particularly unpleasant person in the local community.(15)

At this point we must emphatically part company with the author. Looking closer at this illustration, and at others sections of the same mural, we can see evidence that Wyatt has, astonishingly, ignored. No one is being insulted by pointing feet, and the figure on the ground is a woman in distress, not a man—her clothing makes this clear. The adjacent women are not pushing anyone away; on the contrary, two of the women are clearly supporting the fallen woman.

Murals in northern Thailand are commonly inscribed with captions identifying the scenes—the “reading” of the book’s title is often meant literally. Above the head of the female figure on the ground is a short text that reads “nguu …[illegible] nang Sacca.” From this, an informed reader knows that a “ngu” is a snake and that her name is Sacca. (A snake’s body is also clearly visible to the left of the woman.) Thus, we can determine that the snake has bitten her. Although in many other cases Wyatt does read and translate the captions, he has mysteriously opted not to read them here.

The misinterpretations are widespread in the book. For instance, on page 73 Wyatt deems an inscription illegible, but the included illustration clearly identifies the figures in the scene. Wyatt’s perception of a “crone in the foreground dressed as some sort of demon” (73, fig. 68) is an actual demon: according to the caption, two parents are offering their daughter to a demon. His observation of “transvestites” (26, fig. 13) is also not viable. The figures in question are wearing male dress. The figure stirring a cooking pot is supposed by the author to be performing a female task. There is, however, no visual evidence to support the claim that these figures are transvestites. Furthermore, stirring a pot and wearing a scarf (called a “shroud” here) are not indicators of either cross-dressing or effeminacy.

As observers of Thai culture from a distant perspective, Western scholars can easily project their own ideas of intention, motivation, and meaning onto the Thai setting. They should frequently confirm their views with Thai informants, whose understanding can ensure accuracy and dispel obvious error. Art historians must also try to define the conventions of Thai painting so that readers can distinguish between elements that are conventional and those that are the artist’s own stylistic contribution. Wyatt does not appear to have confirmed any of his views with Thai informants, nor has he treated the Nan mural paintings in the context of Thai painting as a whole. As a result what he offers here is mainly personal opinion that is not useful.

On page 46, Wyatt turns to what he asserts are puzzling elements in the Nan murals. In one scene, European men and women are depicted near ships (figs. 31a and 31b). He asks why parts of these scenes are left uncolored, why figures resembling “London policemen” are included, and why the costumes are not accurate for the late nineteenth century, the period in which they were painted. The author neglected to consider that foreigners are a very common element in Thai painting of this era, and in many different contexts. The artist of the murals was not interested in depicting correct period dress for these “exotic” figures. To ask why a specific artist included a European figure is not usually relevant.

There is little reason to guess that a real encounter at the Nan court is depicted (fig. 33), particularly since the alleged “foreigner” here is wearing Thai clothing—he is probably not a foreigner at all. The caption would clarify things, but it has been overlooked. And the writing above the caption in central Thai script, the writing of central Thailand that is now uniformly used throughout the country, is not an additional caption as suggested, but modern graffiti that is all too common on Thai temple murals. Depictions of foreigners in Thai art of the late seventeenth century were repeated for more than a hundred years, with little change in costume detail. It is most unlikely that any great dating significance should be attached to the costume style in the Nan murals.

Moreover, the fact that some sections of these scenes are left unpainted should not have much significance. The aforementioned “London policemen” are wearing hats that are unlikely to be specific to London. On these and many other points the author’s assertions are not by any means adequately established.

Reading Thai Murals is an attractive publication that contains valuable information on the historical setting of Nan in the late nineteenth century. But we have insufficient confidence in the author’s attempts to relate history to the painted depictions. Wyatt views the murals from a cultural and aesthetic cocoon quite distant from the content of the paintings themselves, and his notion of “reading Thai murals” is hardly helpful. The book is riddled with inaccuracies and baseless suppositions, and it should be used with the greatest caution.