If I call this a love letter, I do not (I must assure my wife) mean it in the usual sense, as a missive of personal, amorous courtship. If I call it an exposition on culture, gender, mythology and blood sports, I hit the limbs and miss the heart. If I call it a tribute to a wise and beautiful person I condemn my efforts to redundancy, for ample tributes have already been made. Let us then call the spirit of the thing erotic, in the precise sense of the term, which is something I also hope to clarify. Let us start with that, and see where it takes us.
I do not recall exactly how or when I first heard of Parinya Charoenphol, aka Nong Toom, aka the Beautiful Boxer, only that my initial reaction was not very positive. A transvestite kick-boxer? Whatever dude. More things in heaven and earth, right? I was young, and my sense of hetero-normative manhood looked askance at the derangement of reliable binaries—man/woman; warrior/drag queen. It did not occur to me that certain of my most actively cultivated values—individualism, mental and physical toughness, self-awareness, creative adaptability—could hardly be more radically manifest than in the example of this remarkable person. My course in seeing things differently, how I came to admire, even revere, Ms. Charoephol, is a tale for other pages. My aim here is only to demonstrate why she, Nong Toom, merits inclusion in an elite circle of modern, mythic heroes, people who, in transforming themselves, have wondrously transformed their world.
But first, a bit of fun with semiotics (oh, just a bit).
What you see above is a modified semiotic square, or cube, to be precise. The forward plane is standard, representing the familiar social handles of male (M) and female (F), and their immediate negations/implications of not-male (-M) and not-female (-F). The background plane explores the extended, both/neither implications. The priorityof terms in the hybrid and double-negative categories may be variously interpreted, e.g. the difference between (M/F) and (F/M) may be taken in atransgender context to signify gender transitioning—female from male, male fromfemale—or as two instances of a freely fluctuating, gender-fluid identity.[1] The negative corollaries may refer to aperson of either sex who is stigmatized as lacking, or having lost, someessential gender marker, an effeminate man disavowed by his fellows or a woman shamed by some (generally sexual) indiscretion.[2] Or they may represent transgender individuals closeted by the pressures of family, religion or culture, forbidden fromexpressing their inner experience. Yet athird possibility is that they represent “gender clowns,” individuals who ape the stereotypes of the opposite gender for reasons having little or nothing todo with authentic identity, such as profit, satire, deception, or ticks of deeppathology.[3] Thisclown figure will be of special interest as we return to the story of NongToom.
Because when a demure, muscular, sweet-faced teenager first took the ring conspicuously marked with in lipstick and rouge, the question her audiences asked was is this for real? Transvestites and transwomen in Thai society are often entertainers or prostitutes, and are widely accepted as such, but few people were ready to believe that a transwoman could also be an authentic Muay Thai boxer. They assumed her fights were staged, a ploy to boost ticket sales (not an unreasonable assumption given the shady profiteering that notoriously dogs the sport). It’s true that Nong Toom’s motives were largely financial; she, like many of the poor country boys she trained with, was trying to earn money for her impoverished family. But no one was laying down for her. On the contrary, her opponents were positively desperate to win, as the macho culture of Muay Thai made them afraid of losing to a “ladyboy.”
And yet lose they did, one after another, laid low by Toom’s heavy kicks and cutting elbows. A devout Buddhist and truly gentle soul, Toom liked to give her defeated foes a kiss on the cheek (if they were still standing, that is), a way of saying “I was rough on you, I’m sorry.” Soon, nothing in the brutal sport was more feared than the shy, apologetic kiss of Nong Toom.
His audiences quickly evolved a new theory to accommodate the evidence of her ability: if Nong Toom was a real fighter, she must then be a fake transwoman. This was an aspersion cast on her interiority, and in the nasty way of such things, she found herself internalizing it. She had started wearing makeup as an expression of what she felt to be her true self, but now, in the sight of the rowdy, taunting mobs, she had her moment of doubt. She began to wonder, am I a clown?
It is here thatthe story of Nong Toom gets really interesting from a mythic/psychologicalstandpoint, right at the crux where the inner and outer conflicts spin out froma common paradox, and an inner/outer doubling begins to complicate thepicture. But what exactly are themythic/psychological taproots of this doubling?
(Meet Mago Contributor) Matthew Chabin.