“Shouldn’t be a problem.”
“You sure? We have to send the artwork to the printer by noon.”
“As soon as I get the updated font, it’ll be a piece of cake. I just have to replace the old font with the new one, edit a few things here and there, then it’s done.”
The two young Thai graphic designers stared at their computer screen, admiring their first commercial work, beautifully crafted with excellent use of grid and type. They had been spending days and nights just to get the details right. It was nearly finished, except for some technical difficulties beyond their expertise. Every time they inspected their work, they could still see all the misplaced tone marks across the document. These little characters weren’t behaving the way they supposed to and the designers were unable to resolve it. Their only hope was to call the font foundry.
“Great! And when will he send you the font?”
“By noon.”
The problem our two young designers faced is quite common among Thai design studios or any companies employing type seriously. Outwardly, the Thai characters we see and use everyday on our computer appear complete, enough to compose any Thai word in existence. It is, however, not enough for fine typographic treatment. To better understand this issue, it may be helpful to imagine how Latin characters are treated by designers and typesetters. When you browse through a professionally published book, you don’t see hyphens used instead of en-dashes, dumb quotes instead of smart quotes, three periods instead of ellipses, and other fine details being misused. Each character has a purpose to serve. Even tiny variations matter, such as the difference between the length of em-dashes, en-dashes, and hyphens.
Thai tone marks, vowels, and signs fall into the same category as there are different sets used for different character combinations. Each set appears slightly different from one another, just like the length of the dashes. Unfortunately, these characters when improperly treated can distort the language to a much greater extent. It becomes an issue of legibility, pronunciation, and communication.
Take the word, ป่า (pronounced: par), for example. It is composed of Po Pla (ป), Sara Aa (า), and a tone mark, Mai Ek ( ่). This word, when correctly treated, means ‘forest’. The problem, however, is the position of Mai Ek. Normally, when Mai Ek, or other tone marks, are used with characters without ascenders, it is automatically and rightly placed above the rightmost stem of its corresponding character e.g. บ่่า. But when there is an ascender as in the word, ‘forest’, Mai Ek must be shifted a little to the left to avoid an overlap of characters, which in this case would result in a totally different word, ปา (pronounced: par; but with a slightly higher tone), meaning ‘to throw’. In writing, this isn’t problematic since we were taught to vary the placement of tone marks depending on character combinations and we could do that easily with our pen. The computer’s treatment of such a case, though, requires another character of Mai Ek, one that has an offset position. Unfortunately, like an abandoned child who got kicked out of the house, this Mai Ek’s twin brother does not have a designated Unicode character code.
There are a total of 27 characters including tone marks, vowels, and signs that falls under this circumstance. Typographers tried hard to conceal the problem so it would be easier on the users. They do this by utilizing the Private Use Area (PUA). But the PUA is meant to be used for organizations and corporations to create non-standard and special characters for their own private purposes, not to solve a legibility or language problem. Any character of any typeface in any language can camp here to their heart’s content. Then sooner or later, the 27 siblings might just be kicked out of their temporary shelter. Nevertheless, they will eventually charge back in to perform their role. Because they exist for a purpose