The King's Last Song

by Geoff Ryman

  We know that after retaking the city, he inspired or forced a massive building program. Many of the most spectacular Angkor-precinct monuments were built under his patronage—among them Ta Prohm, dedicated to his mother; Preah Kahn, dedicated to his father; the Bayon, Neak Pean, and Angkor Thom itself, the restructured city center that he enclosed for the first time within a defensive wall. The four faces on the famous gates are thought to be portraits of him. We know he built or repaired hundreds of what are now called hospitals. The inscriptions on those buildings honoring his compassion have gone a long way toward creating our modern view of him.

  He was the second king in Cambodian history to be a Buddhist, but he was the first to make Buddhism so central to its religious buildings. The entire length of the city wall was topped with niches, each one of which had an image of the Buddha. It is hard not to see this as being to some undefined degree a reaction against Hinduism after worship of its gods failed to protect the city from conquest.

  We can see from his great temple the Bayon that to some degree he must have been a religious innovator. The bas-reliefs not only record his victorious battles in detail, but preserve the celebrations of the ordinary soldiers. Almost uniquely in Angkor-era art, the bas-reliefs show scenes from everyday life. A woman merchant, her friend's arm around her shoulders, measures out her stock for Chinese customers. A woman in one of the hospitals gives birth. A family either flees the army or is following it, walking beside their oxcart with a little girl riding on her father's shoulders. It's hard not to feel that this impulse to record everyday life shows a new interest in all of the Khmer people. The beautiful Neak Pean, a fountain that stood on an island in the middle of the giant reservoir, the Jayatataka, was built for all classes of Khmers to wash away sin.

  History is a whispering gallery, in which some things are clearly heard and others not. Because the ancient Khmers used the saka dating system we know the year, the day, and the hour that Jayavarman's temples were consecrated. We know one of those temples alone, Ta Phrom, had 80,000 people dedicated to its rites, upkeep, and the feeding of all those tens of thousands of temple staff.

  But.

  We don't know the date of Jayavarman's birth or of his death.

  We don't know why he appears to have built the temple now called Banteay Chmaar in the far northwest of the country.

  We don't know why he spent so much time among the neighboring Cham people in what is now Vietnam. We don't know why the Bayon bas-reliefs show Chams fighting alongside Khmer troops against a Cham monarch.

  It's difficult for us to keep track of all of his sons, or at least people whose titles bear the suffix “kumara,” translated as Crown Prince. We don't know why the illustrious queen Jayarajadevi was not his number one, most honored wife. We don't know who his successor Indravarman was or why there are so few inscriptions about Indravarman, and none that honor or praise him.

  We do know that after Indravarman, there was vandalism against Buddhist decoration. All the images around the top of the city walls were smashed or recarved to resemble Hindu Brahmins, and that Buddhist images in Preah Khan were also retooled to support Hinduism. A famous statue of Jayavarman was found by archaeologists, evidently thrown down a well. A Hindu backlash?

  Jayavarman VII is not the man who made Cambodia a Buddhist nation. That came later, and the vehicle of Buddhism that triumphed was Theravada Buddhism. Jayavarman was a Mahayana Buddhist.

  We also know that he had been virtually forgotten by the Cambodian people until he was unearthed by French scholars, who perhaps out of kindness, or perhaps out of colonial politics, drew attention to his great works and the unusually moving (to them, to us) inscriptions. But there is no doubting now the centrality of Jayavarman VII for modern Cambodians’ own view of their history.

  In 2004, at a talk that set up a writers’ workshop in Cambodia, a civil servant stood up in the audience and begin to say something that got an odd reaction and then drew prolonged applause. What he said was afterwards translated for me. He had asked that if I was writing about Jayavarman, could I use him as a model to show to Cambodia's current leaders how badly they were misleading the country.

  I talked to Chhay Bora, a trained dramatist who had written and got produced (no mean feat in Cambodia) a spectacular 100-cast-member version of the life of Jayavarman VII. He told me that he would spend hours just staring at Jayavarman monuments, to appreciate what the King had done for his people.

  But I also spoke to one famous scholar of Cambodia (who insisted on not being acknowledged) who said that the highly metaphorical inscriptions in his honor might be translated to mean that Jayavarman was the Usurper. I was left with the impression that all stories are fiction.

  I'm a novelist, not a scholar. My job at the time was to be inspired by the history, and to build up a coherent picture of a life. To my regret, I didn't take bibliographic references or footnotes. I'm embarrassed that I can't always give references. But I can sort out for readers what is attested, from what I had to create by guesswork, and to give as many of my sources as I can.

  Throughout I had to find interesting stories to tell about parts of Jayavarman's life that are hidden from us. I had to decide which authority to believe, or sometimes invent a dramatic new explanation for the few things we do know.

  I go through the ancient story chapter by chapter.

  Leaf 1 and Leaf 2

  No golden books from the Angkor now exist. I spent a lot of time trying to find ways that a palm-leaf book could have survived from the time. In the end I am grateful to Peter Skilling for the suggestions that the book might have been written on gold as in Indonesia. At the very last moment of writing, I read a translation by Saveros Pou of an inscription that commissioned a history to be written on gold.

  I am grateful to my Khmer language teacher, Mr. Bun Ny Chea, for the subtitle. Originally I wanted something that meant the Golden Book. His more subtle Kraing Meas means something closer to Golden Treasure Manuscript.

  Jayavarman is more like a title than a personal name. Parama Saugatapada is the King's attested death-name. All the other personal names I give him are made up.

  Place names: I first ran across a systematic use for the ancient real names of temples in Charles Higham's The Civilization of Angkor. For example, Indrapattha is Angkor Thom, Madhyadri is the Bayon. Some names I had to make up for consistency. These are noted.

  1136

  Alexandra Haendel kindly read a draft and objected to my choice of Jayavarman's age. I followed the tradition that he did not become king until age fifty. Her studies have convinced her that he must have been much younger.

  Giving him an earlier birthdate had storytelling advantages. For example it allowed this Jayavarman to see the building of Angkor Wat and become a trusted follower of Suryavarman II.

  The names for various categories of slaves such as kamlaa, khnom, and nia are real, drawn from a number of sources. I have to confess, I never got a handle on the great number of different social categories in ancient Angkor. I sometimes got the impression that those classes with Sanskrit names such as sujati were an attempt to impose a traditionally Hindu social structure on Khmer society. It's also not clear that the word “slave” is the right translation. In a highly structured society almost everyone may have been tied down to a social role.

  Of some help with this complex and changing vocabulary was Studies in Sanskrit Inscriptions of Ancient Cambodia (on the basis of first three volumes of Dr. R. C. Majumdar's edition), ed. Mahesh Kumar Sharan, Abhinav Publications, New Delhi, 1974. It helpfully reviewed whole categories of language from religion to administration to social life and dress.

  The description of the slave girl's dress is as accurate as I could make it, drawn on many sources, including bas-reliefs.

  The name Cap-Pi-Hau is an attested ancient Khmer name, and it does mean Catch-Him-to-Call-Him, but there's nothing factual to link it to Jayavarman. It is highly unlikely than any nobleman's son would allow himself to be called Nia, H
ereditary Slave. Cmâ-kancus does mean Fishing Cat, but I made the name up, as I made up the character. “Mulberry” is an attested personal name for a slave.

  The royal palace as described is based on the bas-reliefs on Angkor Wat itself, and on artifacts in museums.

  There is no evidence that children of lesser kings or noblemen were held prisoner in quite this way. We don't know where Jayavarman grew up or the kind of role his nobly named parents may have played. His mother appears to have been highly connected. Though historians once listed his father as being a universal king, there is no evidence for this. I had to make a novelist's choice, and showed this Jayavarman as a child who had been sent away for schooling and surveillance.

  The description of the parade is modeled on one described by a Chinese visitor to Cambodia in 1297, Chou Ta-Kuan. His account, sometimes called The Customs of Cambodia, is colorful and unreliable. It tells you where gay men gathered in the City and reads like traveler's hearsay. His description of the King appearing at a palace window to dispense justice inspired the leaves that follow Chapter 1181, when Jayavarman envisages his future as king.

  The description of how Angkor Wat was constructed is drawn at least in part from the tour of monuments given to a group by Roland Fletcher, particularly his description of what we can learn from Ta Keo, the unfinished temple.

  Alexandra Haendel objected to the lead roof tiles. I would not have made this up, but I never could refind the reference to the discovery of the lead tiles.

  The future king Yashovarman makes his first appearance here. He was indeed the son of the King's nephew, but his character as a bully is pure fiction.

  The name Meru for the contemporary Baphuon is a made-up name, to match the other names used for the temples at the time.

  The totemic topknots worn by the troops are visible in Angkor Wat bas-reliefs. More on my sources for descriptions of Khmer armies will follow.

  1142

  I make no apologies for showing the future Jayavarman as being a religious and social radical from an early age.

  We do know that the Hindu-ised culture of the Angkor era held Brahmins in high regard, honoring them with high office. Their portrayal on bas-reliefs, with beards and topknots tied up in cloth, gives the impression of a stereotyped ethnic identity.

  Steu Rau, the Master of the King's Fly Whisk, was a real person.

  There is absolutely no evidence that my Jayavarman ever befriended the great old King Suryavarman II in this way.

  It is true that Suryavarman never had children of his own. The tradition that he slept alone on top of the private royal temple comes from legends recounted by Chou Ta-Kuan. Suryavarman II was himself an outstanding and unusual figure, a warlike conqueror and the patron of Angkor Wat. He was a Vishnuite when most kings were followers of Siva, and unusually did not claim descent from any previous Khmer king. In my fictional history, Suryavarman II is also religiously innovative, in an era that was already beginning to doubt the efficacy of the devarajas, the god-kings.

  A blood tie between Jayavarman and Suryavarman? We do know that Jayavarman's mother was related to the ruling dynasty. Of his father Dharanindravaraman, we know almost nothing. I decided to assign a small, distant fealty. I don't think it unlikely that Suryavarman would have thought of him as a very distant relative....thus the “cousin."

  Yashovarman did indeed marry Suryavarman's niece.

  The nagahead torque worn by soldiers is everywhere visible on bas-reliefs. As the Naga is the traditional protector of the Buddha himself, it was a small leap in imagination to think that this torque might have some protective, good-luck function for soldiers.

  1147

  My portrait of Jayarajadevi comes mostly from the Phimeanakas Inscription, the long and startlingly beautiful tribute credited to her sister, Indradevi. I was also inspired by the statue of her in the Musée Guimet, Paris. It shows a physically frail, not conventionally beautiful woman. The face to me is alive with delighted acceptance.

  The Dhuli Jeng, Divakarapandita, was a real person and he did live long enough to consecrate three kings. There is no evidence that he took such a special interest in Jayarajadevi or Jayavarman.

  The name Jayarajadevi is more like a title. As with the King himself, I had to think about what my characters would be called in their everyday lives. I decided to give even nobles personal names in Old Khmer, not Sanskrit. Getting my hands on Old Khmer dictionaries was a challenge. I did find them in the Center for Khmer Studies, Wat Damnak, Siem Reap, including the French-English Old Khmer dictionary edited by Saveros Pou. But I had to hastily scan it letter by letter in the library. This sadly is why so many of my Khmer names begin with K. The two sisters are called Kansri and Kansru, similar names for sisters, shortened by them to ‘Sri and ‘Sru. My job was made much easier when I found many Sanskrit and Old Khmer dictionaries in the British Library, London. Some of the words I use come from Judith Jacob's Cambodian Linguistics, Literature and History, ed. David A. Smyth. I was never able to find a copy of an Old Khmer dictionary to buy.

  Jayavarman's moustache comes from portrait busts of him.

  It amused me to draw parallels between my ancient characters and modern Cambodians. The account of Jayavarman's courtship is based on that of Hun Sen and his future wife as recounted in Hun Sen: Strongman of Cambodia, by Harish C. Mehta and Julie B. Mehta.

  Rajaindravarman, the presiding general at the wedding, was a real person.

  I could find no evidence of how an ancient wedding service might have been conducted, so I modeled this one on a Hindu wedding I witnessed in London.

  There is no evidence whatsoever that Jayavarman modeled his title on that of his wife. The likelihood is very much the other way around. However, I wanted to dramatize the future king's capacity to turn things upside-down. This anachronistic feminism is somewhat in keeping with the traditional view that Jayavarman's wives were of enormous importance in formulating his approach to Buddhism. Cambodians are proud that their traditions allow women greater freedom than in some other cultures. The bas-reliefs on the Bayon, for example, show Cambodian businesswomen.

  The City of the Eastern Buddha is mentioned in inscriptions, but I couldn't find a location for it. The name alone, honoring the Buddha, is unusual. I adopted it as the ancient name for Preah Kahn at Kompong Svay. This is the Jayavarman-style city complex in the east of the country in which I decided to have the fictional Jayavarman establish a small kingdom before becoming universal king. The famous and very beautiful small head of Jayavarman as a young man was found there, and the buildings are instantly recognizable as Jayavarman-era. One of the most exciting of my research days was driving to this temple in a pickup truck on a dirt road surrounded by land-mine warning signs. This truck inspired the character of Ea and his pickup truck in the modern story.

  The Old Khmer personal name for Jayavarman, Kráy, is another letter-K fiction. But “Huge, Powerful, Exceeding” does pack a certain prophetic punch if applied to Jayavarman VII.

  1151

  Jayavarman VII being held as an enslaved prisoner of war is not impossible, but it is complete fiction. We do know that Jayavarman had a complex relationship with the neighboring Chams and that the armies of Suryavarman fought there. This story has many dramatic advantages. It also reflects some of the modern story, not only Luc's kidnapping, but the harsher treatment of the Muslim Cham minority by the Khmer Rouge and the confusing factional wars of the 1980s.

  Scholars such as Claude Jacques are confident that Suryavarman II died sometime around 1150 in the middle of a disastrous campaign against Vietnam. The last inscription bearing his name is dated 1145. In that year, he installed Harideva on the throne of one Cham kingdom, Vijaya, some say having killed his own Cham brother-in-law first. In 1149 another Cham, Jaya-Harivarman I, killed Harideva and declared himself King of the Chams. It is this new universal king who is shown as having good reason to find out what the prisoner Jayavarman knows about Yashovarman. This means that, without a clear consecration date,
my fictional Yashovarman becomes king in 1151.

  This is the first chapter set in my fictionalized Preah Khan/City of the Eastern Buddha. Suryakumara is only one of Jayavarman's historically attested sons.

  1152

  This chapter was meant to account for the alliances that Jayavarman seems to have had with some Chams. The son he has by Fishing Cat in the first drafts was meant to be Indravarman, the successor King.

  Rajapativarman, the author of my utterly fictional royal memoir, is also a complete invention. He is the result of a research disaster that overtook the final draft. Flying back from Cambodia, I picked up a copy of David Chandler's Facing the Cambodian Past (Silkworm Books, Bangkok, 1996). His article “The Legend of the Leper King” pleased me. Chandler felt, as I did, that Indravarman might be the leper king of tradition, the sdach komlong. So far, so good....except that the article also told me that the real Indravarman died sometime around 1243. This made him far too young to be my fictional character, who was born in 1152. A major character had disappeared from the novel.

  A friend, knowing of my bootless quest to buy a copy of Saveros Pou's Old Khmer dictionary, bought me a two-volume collection of Pou's articles. In those I found a translation of a very short text, “The Stele of Nadun.” This records the commission of three different people, all named Rajapativarman, to write for a Sri Jayavarmadeva a history in gold.

  I had a new name and a new character. In my fictional universe, all three Rajapativarmans are one person, named three times with different titles because he is the king's son.

  But most importantly for me, it was the only reference I had seen to Old Khmers writing on gold. Until then, there was no historical basis for my fictional golden book. I was charmed that the translation describes the commissioned text as “the property of God."

  In earlier drafts of this novel, I believed that the Chams were more Buddhist than the Khmers in this era. I was set right by Cham Art, by Emmanuel Guillon.