Although there exists no dramatic version of the first act of Sang Thong other than that included with the Rama II lakhon, Prince Damrong believed that it had also been written somewhat earlier than the reign of Rama II.20 The choice of wording in Act One seems to show somewhat more concern for rhyme and less for meaning than that in the later acts. This act, upon which my close translation focuses, would, however, have had to be acceptable to the artist-king. A reconstruction of his purpose and method in composing the dance-drama is of interest, therefore, in accounting for the stylistic qualities of this first act and as an illustration of the interaction between "great" and "little" traditions.
Early in the reign of Rama II, according to Prince Damrong's history of this reign, the dancing girls in the king's court had reached a high level of performance. Thus the king must have wished to add new plays to their traditional repertoire, known collectively as lakhon nai, consisting of three plays; Ramakian, Inao, and Unrut.21 We can, of course, only suggest how Rama II and his poets may have put Sang Thong, as well as at least five other plays from the rustic lakhon nok tradition, into verses furnishing words for his chorus and rhythm for his dancers. But the early life of Rama II, as well as Prince Damrong's reconstruction of the way courtly dance-dramas were composed and tested, does explain a style in winch humorous, bawdy, "rural" sentiments came to be expressed in flowing, graceful lines.
Since the king had been brought up as a commoner in the countryside before his warrior father became king, he was quite likely acquainted with rural life as well as court life, and could still remember the ribald humor of lakhon nok as it was played for the pleasure of the people and of the spirits they wished to please. He and his poets, then, who included the famous Sunthon Phu and Rama II's eldest son, Prince Chesda, must have transformed this ribaldry into witticism acceptable to the higher classes, and then brought in the dancers to try their steps with the poetry. The poetry could then have been altered if the steps could not be fitted to it.22
Although the plot of "Suvarna-Sankha-Jātaka," the early prose story by the Chiang Mai priests, is very similar to the plot of the poetic dance-drama of Sang Thong, close comparison of the two reveals striking general differences, as well as considerable difference in details. The notion of Prince Sang as an incarnation of the Buddha, so basic to the priest's story, is not apparent in the king's version. On the other hand, the concept of kingly responsibility, which was not in the priests' version, did enter King Rama's dance-drama. The workings of karma, only implicit in the priests' story, are described and wondered about in the king's version. Animistic beliefs in spirits of trees, houses, and fields are not part of the priests' story, though they are recurrent in the king's version. The priests' story is humorless and comparatively devoid of pathos, while both these qualities are very strong in the Rama II version of the story. I am inclined to think that at least some of these differences are attributable to a "little" tradition, which, as it developed in Thailand, had been elaborating themes reflecting the feelings and everyday life of country people as they told, read aloud, or acted the story.
STYLE: PERFORMANCE OF THE DANCE-DRAMA
Staging
In Thai drama, the elements of dance, music, and narration were never separated, as they were in the West, leaving only a spoken script. For Sang Thong, this integration of dance, music, and narration has held true for both city and country productions. Thus, although the verses appearing in the translation of "The Birth of Prince Sang" are dramatic literature, they do not appear in our Western form, as a script, but rather as a combination of narration, dialogue, and directions for music. The motions of the actors in Thai lakhon have been likened to the language of the dance. These motions are frequently not those a Westerner would expect as portrayals of a given feeling, but are composed of one or a combination of several stylized motions, sometimes involving only the hands, but more likely the whole body moving rhythmically to instrumental music or to the sung narration of the story.
Through the years lakhon nok and lakhon nai have borrowed each other's technical features to some extent. In both the recent National Theater production and a demonstration by an old country-woman of the way she danced the part of Prince Sang thirty years ago, the motions were meaningfully graceful. (Since the late 19th century, when Rama IV lifted the ban on women appearing in lakhon outside the court, a woman has frequently played the role of Prince Sang, for traditionally a Thai hero has been a graceful figure.) However, in both city and country the actions of the comic characters have always been quick and unrestrained.
For National Theater productions, dancers must learn the centuries-old movements expressive of feelings; however, if a dancer is particularly admired, the slight variations with which he interprets a part may be passed on to later dancers of the role. Before the days of the National Theater, when Thailand was still an absolute monarchy, a Negrito called Kenang was featured in Sang Thong when the play was presented for the court of King Chulalongkorn (Rama V). The king had taken the Negrito into his household as an orphan child some years before. Kenang created something of a sensation in the role by playing the part without the usual mask for the acts in which Prince Sang wears the disguise of a Negrito.23
The extent to which the text was narrated by a person offstage or was sung by the players themselves seems to have varied in different places and at different times. La Loubère's account of lakhon nok at the end of the 17th century includes both a narrator and singers of parts. The style of the Rama II version indicates that, as this version was originally written, a narrator sang much of the story while dancers "spoke the language of the dance," with some ad-libbing between verses. Each verse, as indicated in the translation of Act One, usually focuses 011 one figure. Country people tell me that the last time Sang Thong was given in their village, each dancer sang his own part, describing both the situation and his feelings as he danced.
In the 1968 National Theater production of two of the later acts of Sang Thong, the main narration was sung in long verses, by a single voice alternating with a chorus line by line. In short verses there was only the single voice. The narrators sat with the percussion orchestra, just offstage. With them sat a man specially skilled in reading the lines quickly, so that the narrators could hear and repeat them. Unlike the Western prompter, the khon bawk hot was constantly active. The narrators, however, did not simply repeat what he said, but put the words to an elaborated melody and rhythm which would in turn fit with the dance. The dancers spoke their own words. (These are indicated by quotation marks in the translation of Act One, which follows.)
As Dhanit Yupho has observed, the chorus developed in connection with costuming. Thai court dancers for centuries used elaborate costumes with many traditional pieces. These costumes were so intricate that special people were needed to dress the dancers, who were, then as now, sewn into their costumes. After the costumers had performed their duties there was nothing for them to do, so they were utilized as a chorus to alternate in the narration with the primary singer. When he became director-general of the Fine Arts Department twenty years ago, Dhanit Yupho urged dancers to help dress each other as an economy measure. The tradition of the chorus, however, remained.24
As the translation of "The Birth of Prince Sang" indicates, specialized music is played between many of the verses by an ensemble consisting, in its simplest form, of a xylophone-like instrument with wooden strips, two types of drums, a reed pipe, and a small pair of cymbals. Occasionally a melody is played on one or more string instruments. This music, each rhythm of which is significantly familiar to a Thai audience, can indicate changes of scene, making scenery unnecessary. Narration and music suffice to indicate changes of time and place to the audience.
According to the emotion to be expressed, a single instrument performs, or several are played in unison. There is thus specialized music to follow the actions of a person of high status, to indicate that people of low status are leaving the scene, to express sadness, to indicate an important happening (often one which