To all who visit this website and their loved ones, I wish you a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
Cheers & All the best, FHL
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Wisdom From the Heartland -- Proverbs From the Provinces of Hebei, Henan, Hubei & Hunan
Hebei
One can become poor from being wealthy. (For some who are addicted to a lavish lifestyle, their all-too-short period of wealth leads to an even quicker slide into poverty.)
Only one "today"; only one "right now." (It's better for us to take each problem one day at a time; even more importantly, we should focus on the here and now, not the what was here or might not be here.)
For every household, there's one sky once the door's been opened. ("To each his own." Each person's life has its own necessities, problems, reality, and ways of doing things.)
The ingredients for noodles is the same; the kneading is different. (We're basically all the same; it's what we do with our lives that is different.)
A person who is told by another to "drop dead" won't do so unless heaven wills it so. (One's successes or failures are not dictated by the mere wishes of others.)
Those without smiling faces close up shop early. (A prosperous business at least partly depends on a friendly demeanor.)
Reputation is to people what bark is to trees. (Both reputation and bark protect and insulate their respective hosts.)
A person may be poor but not his/her aspirations. (A poverty in funds is least consequential, for a wealth of determination is what enables one to succeed.)
With ten monks come nine accents. ("Too many cooks spoil the broth.")
When one's careful, one can accomplish a hundred things; when one's reckless, even just one inch can be rough going. ("Haste makes waste." Mandarin speakers also say, "With preparations, there won't be any disasters.")
No matter how big the biggest mountain is, it can never crush the sun. (It's easy to be intimidated in a debate. However, if you argue on behalf of righteousness, stand your ground, no matter how bullying or blustering the opposition is, "the truth will out.")
Like a couple of mutes accusing each other of interrupting. (Who knows who started this?)
You lift your head, not lower it, to ask for help. (Those who need the help of other people ought to show a respectful, pleasant demeanor instead of just silently demanding a handout.)
Henan
Even a god won't stand listening to heartfelt words repeated three times. (With even the best intentioned message, if its repeated too much, it goes in one ear and out the other, if resentment doesn't set in first. In other words, don't nag!)
Like one who can give up a thousand sentences but not be able to part with one copper coin. (Said of those who enter a shop, look around, and chat all day but leave without buying anything.)
Pushing a wheelbarrow requires no education; all that is required here is for the gluteus maximus to move. (There are times just to roll up the sleeves and get to work and let good old-fashioned elbow grease get the job done.)
Good people are fooled just as a good horse is ridden. (Here, "fooled" and "ridden" rhyme and are somewhat homophonic. The naive end up, like a docile horse, being manipulated.)
There can be a once or a twice but never a third or a fourth. (An occasional honest mistake can be tolerated but not mistakes over and over, especially the same or similar errors.)
To hear of something a hundred times is not as worthwhile as seeing it once. ("One picture speaks a thousand words.")
To secure the front gate against tigers but to let a wolf in through the back gate. (To be shortsighted, unable to see the big picture, thus doomed to adversity.)
Hubei
In sales, the goods make up thirty percent, while the shopkeeper's facial expression makes up seventy percent. (Similar to the Hebei proverb above; a merchant with a jolly face will always be able to sell his/her products. People tend to patronize a store with friendly, smiling and helpful staff.)
Beautiful flowers are not fragrant, while those that are fragrant are not particularly beautiful. ("Don't judge a book by its cover.")
As long as there's one person around, there is a world. ("Where there's life, there's hope.")
To lead an ox up a tree. (To engage in a foolish, absurd act, or to try to teach an unteachable person a skill. Mandarin speakers also say, "To play a stringed instrument before a cow.")
Not to blame the tether for being too short but rather to blame the well for being too deep. (To play the blame game--to blame everybody and everything, but not oneself, for one's shortcomings.)
If you fall down a well, don't expect your ears to latch onto something. (Said of people who are about to take a big, unwise risk, of those who are foolishly optimistic.)
To be a bandit while it's still in the middle of the day; to try to eat a duck's egg before it's all the way out of the duck's bottom. (Said of the impetuous and rash, those who cannot wait to plan properly and who, instead go off pell mell to do something foolish and doomed to failure.)
When one is lucky, not even the city walls can stop one; when one bears misfortune, even one's can of salt will contain maggots. (Luck and adversity--they are due to one's fate.)
Having a home with an old person living inside is like having a treasure. (Old people are founts of wisdom and experience and enrich the lives of younger people with whom they live.)
Hunan
It takes much clay to build such a big oven. (Big, grand things are also the sums of their parts. "Rome wasn't built in a day," as we say in the West.)
The problem is not if the soil will yield crops but rather if the farmer will till the soil. ("Where there is a will, there's a way." Mother Nature will do her part; the rest is up to us. Perhaps we can also say as an analog to this proverb: "Heaven helps those who help themselves.")
A small stone can break a great tub. ("All it takes is a small spark to burn down a great forest." Sometimes, as it has been said, "the bigger they are, the harder they fall.")
The land needs irrigation just as an infant needs a wet nurse. (There is an order or system required by nature and nothing can change that.)
From time immemorial, crickets and ants have always cherished their own lives. (Life is precious to all living things, not to mention to human beings.)
When the tofu falls into the ashes, you can neither eat it nor wipe it clean. ("That's the way the cookie crumbles." "Don't cry over spilled milk.")
Notes
from Zhongguo rende suhua, Shang Yingshi, ed. (See 6/19/07 for full citation.)
One can become poor from being wealthy. (For some who are addicted to a lavish lifestyle, their all-too-short period of wealth leads to an even quicker slide into poverty.)
Only one "today"; only one "right now." (It's better for us to take each problem one day at a time; even more importantly, we should focus on the here and now, not the what was here or might not be here.)
For every household, there's one sky once the door's been opened. ("To each his own." Each person's life has its own necessities, problems, reality, and ways of doing things.)
The ingredients for noodles is the same; the kneading is different. (We're basically all the same; it's what we do with our lives that is different.)
A person who is told by another to "drop dead" won't do so unless heaven wills it so. (One's successes or failures are not dictated by the mere wishes of others.)
Those without smiling faces close up shop early. (A prosperous business at least partly depends on a friendly demeanor.)
Reputation is to people what bark is to trees. (Both reputation and bark protect and insulate their respective hosts.)
A person may be poor but not his/her aspirations. (A poverty in funds is least consequential, for a wealth of determination is what enables one to succeed.)
With ten monks come nine accents. ("Too many cooks spoil the broth.")
When one's careful, one can accomplish a hundred things; when one's reckless, even just one inch can be rough going. ("Haste makes waste." Mandarin speakers also say, "With preparations, there won't be any disasters.")
No matter how big the biggest mountain is, it can never crush the sun. (It's easy to be intimidated in a debate. However, if you argue on behalf of righteousness, stand your ground, no matter how bullying or blustering the opposition is, "the truth will out.")
Like a couple of mutes accusing each other of interrupting. (Who knows who started this?)
You lift your head, not lower it, to ask for help. (Those who need the help of other people ought to show a respectful, pleasant demeanor instead of just silently demanding a handout.)
Henan
Even a god won't stand listening to heartfelt words repeated three times. (With even the best intentioned message, if its repeated too much, it goes in one ear and out the other, if resentment doesn't set in first. In other words, don't nag!)
Like one who can give up a thousand sentences but not be able to part with one copper coin. (Said of those who enter a shop, look around, and chat all day but leave without buying anything.)
Pushing a wheelbarrow requires no education; all that is required here is for the gluteus maximus to move. (There are times just to roll up the sleeves and get to work and let good old-fashioned elbow grease get the job done.)
Good people are fooled just as a good horse is ridden. (Here, "fooled" and "ridden" rhyme and are somewhat homophonic. The naive end up, like a docile horse, being manipulated.)
There can be a once or a twice but never a third or a fourth. (An occasional honest mistake can be tolerated but not mistakes over and over, especially the same or similar errors.)
To hear of something a hundred times is not as worthwhile as seeing it once. ("One picture speaks a thousand words.")
To secure the front gate against tigers but to let a wolf in through the back gate. (To be shortsighted, unable to see the big picture, thus doomed to adversity.)
Hubei
In sales, the goods make up thirty percent, while the shopkeeper's facial expression makes up seventy percent. (Similar to the Hebei proverb above; a merchant with a jolly face will always be able to sell his/her products. People tend to patronize a store with friendly, smiling and helpful staff.)
Beautiful flowers are not fragrant, while those that are fragrant are not particularly beautiful. ("Don't judge a book by its cover.")
As long as there's one person around, there is a world. ("Where there's life, there's hope.")
To lead an ox up a tree. (To engage in a foolish, absurd act, or to try to teach an unteachable person a skill. Mandarin speakers also say, "To play a stringed instrument before a cow.")
Not to blame the tether for being too short but rather to blame the well for being too deep. (To play the blame game--to blame everybody and everything, but not oneself, for one's shortcomings.)
If you fall down a well, don't expect your ears to latch onto something. (Said of people who are about to take a big, unwise risk, of those who are foolishly optimistic.)
To be a bandit while it's still in the middle of the day; to try to eat a duck's egg before it's all the way out of the duck's bottom. (Said of the impetuous and rash, those who cannot wait to plan properly and who, instead go off pell mell to do something foolish and doomed to failure.)
When one is lucky, not even the city walls can stop one; when one bears misfortune, even one's can of salt will contain maggots. (Luck and adversity--they are due to one's fate.)
Having a home with an old person living inside is like having a treasure. (Old people are founts of wisdom and experience and enrich the lives of younger people with whom they live.)
Hunan
It takes much clay to build such a big oven. (Big, grand things are also the sums of their parts. "Rome wasn't built in a day," as we say in the West.)
The problem is not if the soil will yield crops but rather if the farmer will till the soil. ("Where there is a will, there's a way." Mother Nature will do her part; the rest is up to us. Perhaps we can also say as an analog to this proverb: "Heaven helps those who help themselves.")
A small stone can break a great tub. ("All it takes is a small spark to burn down a great forest." Sometimes, as it has been said, "the bigger they are, the harder they fall.")
The land needs irrigation just as an infant needs a wet nurse. (There is an order or system required by nature and nothing can change that.)
From time immemorial, crickets and ants have always cherished their own lives. (Life is precious to all living things, not to mention to human beings.)
When the tofu falls into the ashes, you can neither eat it nor wipe it clean. ("That's the way the cookie crumbles." "Don't cry over spilled milk.")
Notes
from Zhongguo rende suhua, Shang Yingshi, ed. (See 6/19/07 for full citation.)
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Demoness (Hmong)
Long ago Farmer and Mrs. Fuxiang lived deep in the mountains, where they spent many hours and much sweat to make something out of their farm. They also raised pigs, which brought in more money.
A roaming demoness came by their farm and noticed the many pigs in the secure wooden pen by the Fuxiang home.
She wanted those pigs, but breaking down the sturdy logs of the pen would be far from easy. So, she did this: she went back down the mountain to the abandoned campsite of some shepherds, took some dry grass, thrust it in the dying embers of the fire in which they had been roasting yams, blew her breath upon it to make the fire grow, and then took the slowly growing torch with her back up the mountain to the farm. There, waiting for the west wind, she stuck the torch into a crack and set the pen wall on fire.
The fire burned and burned well!
Now the Fuxiangs had been out in the field, but from far away they could see a column of smoke and heard the squeals of their pigs. They rushed back as fast as their legs could carry them.
The demoness was long gone.
Farmer and Mrs. Fuxiang put out the fire soon enough; however, there was now a large hole in the wall of pen, and the canopy over the pen had been burned to charcoal.
That night, the farmer and his wife, each holding a club, stood watch in the pen over their pigs.
They stood all night, watching and waiting for anyone or anything that might try to come in.
"Ai," said Farmer Fuxiang, "this is no way to protect our pigs! In the morning, I'm going to find a carpenter who can repair this hole and build a new canopy!"
"Well, I guess you'd better," said his wife. "You know these mountains are full of tigers and demons, and they'd like nothing better than to devour all our pigs."
The demoness herself was hiding in the bushes and heard what the husband and wife had just said. She smiled. She had a plan.
After daybreak, the demoness turned herself into a man and put on workman's clothes. She also picked up a saw and ax and headed out of the bushes.
The demoness came up the road just as Farmer Fuxiang was coming down it.
"I'm a carpenter at your service," the demoness said to the startled farmer. "Let me guess--you have a pen in need of repair!"
"Why . . . yes . . ."
"Well, then, you'd better take me to see it! Can't let it wait too long, you know, with all these tigers and demons roaming about."
The farmer stared at this "carpenter."
"Now isn't that odd?" asked Farmer Fuxiang.
"What? What's that?"
"Well, now," continued the farmer, "I don't mean to be rude. It's just that you're a grown, mature man without the slightest trace of facial hair! Not only that, but you have a woman's voice. Are you . . . are you a man or a woman pretending to be a carpenter?"
The demoness knew she'd revealed herself, so, without saying another word, she turned and fled back into the forest.
I fouled up that chance! the demoness said to herself, as she fled farther into the forest. That's all right, though. I'll try again, next time with the wife!
Once again, the demoness set out to transform herself. This time she pulled off the leaves and branches of some trees and rubbed the dripping resin onto her face to affect the look of one who works with wood. Next, she swallowed some grains of charcoal to give her voice a grainy, scratchy quality. Still carrying her ax and saw, she also pulled up some grapevines and headed for the Fuxiang farm.
Mrs. Fuxiang was outside her home.
"Good woman!" cried the demoness. "Have some grapes?"
Mrs. Fuxiang looked up at the stranger speaking to her. "Thank . . . you . . . " she said.
"I'm a carpenter, and I can fix that pigpen of yours!"
"Oh?"
"Yes, and what's more, I won't charge you a cent."
"Why, thank you! Please step on over to the pen!" Can it be true, thought Mrs. Fuxiang, that I have found such a wonderful carpenter, one who will even fix the pen for free?
Farmer Fuxiang showed up and joined them.
"This carpenter is willing to fix the wall of the pen for free!" Mrs. Fuxiang told her husband.
On their way over to the pen, Farmer Fuxiang took a good look at the "carpenter."
"Hmm, now isn't that a bit strange!" said the farmer.
"What? What's strange?"
"Your face is rather green."
"Oh, that," replied the demoness. "Last night I had too much wine and fell asleep in a dyeing vat. What's so strange about that?"
"And your ears--I just noticed them. They're pierced, like a lady's!"
"Oh, my ears! When I was small, I was once very sick. My mother prayed night and day at the earth god's shrine and was told to pierce my ears!"
"I see," said the farmer. "Why do you wish to repair my pen for free?"
"That's the way I am, I guess," replied the "carpenter," "full of heart! I like helping people whenever I can."
Mrs. Fuxiang leaned next to her husband and whispered into his ear. "Stop questioning him! He's already offered to help us for free. How rude can you be?"
Farmer Fuxiang deferred to his wife.
"Forgive my poor manners!" said the farmer. "Please go ahead and fix the wall of the pen."
They left the demoness alone to do the promised repairs. After several days of chopping and sawing, the hole in the pen wall was repaired. What's more, a new canopy protected the pigs from above.
"There you are!" said the demoness, still in her "carpenter" disguise. "Your pigs are now snug and safe! No tiger or demon or demoness could possibly get in there now!"
The Fuxiangs thanked the "carpenter," and "he" was on his way.
The next morning, out in the pen, Farmer Fuxiang noted that one pig seemed to be missing. He counted the pigs over and over again; sure enough, a pig was missing. He looked around the pen. Could it have gotten out somehow? No. The walls of the pigpen were tight, secure.
Oh, well, he thought, scratching his head.
Then, the next day and the next day after that, he noticed more pigs were missing, one for each day since the pen had been repaired.
The farmer and his wife looked at each other and had the same thought: the mountain god. Yes, they thought, the mountain god was taking their pigs. So, the farm couple raced over to the local mountain god shrine and prayed to the god not to take their pigs.
"Please spare us!" they prayed. "We need those pigs to sell to market!"
Not much happened after that, to their relief. Then, late one night about a month later, both husband and wife were awakened by the squeals of pigs.
The farmer tiptoed out the house and peered through a tiny opening. Inside the pen was the "carpenter"!
Aha, it was that impostor all along, thought the farmer.
Before the farmer could say or do a thing, the demoness, her feet like wings, had jumped or, more correctly, flown out of the pen with a pig under her arm.
The farmer told his wife. "You can now see why she didn't have a beard!" he said.
"What a fool I was! You were right to suspect her!" she said, slapping herself in the head.
The next day, the couple inspected the pen wall more carefully. They were not surprised to find a hidden door that permitted entry into the pen. With such a door, the demoness could enter fairly quietly. She could, if need be, make a sudden escape by leaping clear over the wall.
By sundown, the husband and wife were ready for the demoness's next visit. They both waited in the pen, the husband on one side of the door, the wife on the other. Both clutched sickles. There, they quietly waited and waited and waited . . .
Deep in the darkest part of that night, the demoness decided to make a return visit and steal yet another pig.
She crept up to the cleverly disguised secret door she herself had installed, oh so quietly opened it and gingerly stepped into the pigpen, unaware that just beyond the door stood the very angry Farmer and Mrs. Fuxiang.
Ah, the demoness thought to herself, the coast is clear yet again!
She then stuck her head and neck just a bit beyond the doorway when . . .
Whup! Whup!
The husband and wife cut her head off!
From that day on, Farmer and Mrs. Fuxiang never lost a pig again.
Notes
from Minhua ji, pp. 60-65. (Complete citation can be found on 1/13/09.)
Two other Hmong tales can be found at the postings for 1/13/09 and 2/12/09.
A hallmark of Indo-European folktales--characters being totally clueless--can be found in this story with the husband and wife not truly realizing the malevolent nature of the "carpenter" until the very end, after the trickster had had unfettered access to their pigpen. The original version in Chinese has the wife happily accepting grapes from the trickster, and both husband and wife are initially oblivious to a demoness in disguise. (Of course we're not supposed to recognize Superman is really Clark Kent without the hornrimmed glasses.)
The original version does not explain the relationship with a male child's having an illness, the parent's subsequent visit to the local earth god's shrine, and then having the child's ears pierced.
Motifs: F1071.2.1, "Enormous leap"; K521.2.5, "Disguise as a carpenter"; K1810, "Deception by disguise"; and K1832, "Disguise by changing voice."
A roaming demoness came by their farm and noticed the many pigs in the secure wooden pen by the Fuxiang home.
She wanted those pigs, but breaking down the sturdy logs of the pen would be far from easy. So, she did this: she went back down the mountain to the abandoned campsite of some shepherds, took some dry grass, thrust it in the dying embers of the fire in which they had been roasting yams, blew her breath upon it to make the fire grow, and then took the slowly growing torch with her back up the mountain to the farm. There, waiting for the west wind, she stuck the torch into a crack and set the pen wall on fire.
The fire burned and burned well!
Now the Fuxiangs had been out in the field, but from far away they could see a column of smoke and heard the squeals of their pigs. They rushed back as fast as their legs could carry them.
The demoness was long gone.
Farmer and Mrs. Fuxiang put out the fire soon enough; however, there was now a large hole in the wall of pen, and the canopy over the pen had been burned to charcoal.
That night, the farmer and his wife, each holding a club, stood watch in the pen over their pigs.
They stood all night, watching and waiting for anyone or anything that might try to come in.
"Ai," said Farmer Fuxiang, "this is no way to protect our pigs! In the morning, I'm going to find a carpenter who can repair this hole and build a new canopy!"
"Well, I guess you'd better," said his wife. "You know these mountains are full of tigers and demons, and they'd like nothing better than to devour all our pigs."
The demoness herself was hiding in the bushes and heard what the husband and wife had just said. She smiled. She had a plan.
After daybreak, the demoness turned herself into a man and put on workman's clothes. She also picked up a saw and ax and headed out of the bushes.
The demoness came up the road just as Farmer Fuxiang was coming down it.
"I'm a carpenter at your service," the demoness said to the startled farmer. "Let me guess--you have a pen in need of repair!"
"Why . . . yes . . ."
"Well, then, you'd better take me to see it! Can't let it wait too long, you know, with all these tigers and demons roaming about."
The farmer stared at this "carpenter."
"Now isn't that odd?" asked Farmer Fuxiang.
"What? What's that?"
"Well, now," continued the farmer, "I don't mean to be rude. It's just that you're a grown, mature man without the slightest trace of facial hair! Not only that, but you have a woman's voice. Are you . . . are you a man or a woman pretending to be a carpenter?"
The demoness knew she'd revealed herself, so, without saying another word, she turned and fled back into the forest.
I fouled up that chance! the demoness said to herself, as she fled farther into the forest. That's all right, though. I'll try again, next time with the wife!
Once again, the demoness set out to transform herself. This time she pulled off the leaves and branches of some trees and rubbed the dripping resin onto her face to affect the look of one who works with wood. Next, she swallowed some grains of charcoal to give her voice a grainy, scratchy quality. Still carrying her ax and saw, she also pulled up some grapevines and headed for the Fuxiang farm.
Mrs. Fuxiang was outside her home.
"Good woman!" cried the demoness. "Have some grapes?"
Mrs. Fuxiang looked up at the stranger speaking to her. "Thank . . . you . . . " she said.
"I'm a carpenter, and I can fix that pigpen of yours!"
"Oh?"
"Yes, and what's more, I won't charge you a cent."
"Why, thank you! Please step on over to the pen!" Can it be true, thought Mrs. Fuxiang, that I have found such a wonderful carpenter, one who will even fix the pen for free?
Farmer Fuxiang showed up and joined them.
"This carpenter is willing to fix the wall of the pen for free!" Mrs. Fuxiang told her husband.
On their way over to the pen, Farmer Fuxiang took a good look at the "carpenter."
"Hmm, now isn't that a bit strange!" said the farmer.
"What? What's strange?"
"Your face is rather green."
"Oh, that," replied the demoness. "Last night I had too much wine and fell asleep in a dyeing vat. What's so strange about that?"
"And your ears--I just noticed them. They're pierced, like a lady's!"
"Oh, my ears! When I was small, I was once very sick. My mother prayed night and day at the earth god's shrine and was told to pierce my ears!"
"I see," said the farmer. "Why do you wish to repair my pen for free?"
"That's the way I am, I guess," replied the "carpenter," "full of heart! I like helping people whenever I can."
Mrs. Fuxiang leaned next to her husband and whispered into his ear. "Stop questioning him! He's already offered to help us for free. How rude can you be?"
Farmer Fuxiang deferred to his wife.
"Forgive my poor manners!" said the farmer. "Please go ahead and fix the wall of the pen."
They left the demoness alone to do the promised repairs. After several days of chopping and sawing, the hole in the pen wall was repaired. What's more, a new canopy protected the pigs from above.
"There you are!" said the demoness, still in her "carpenter" disguise. "Your pigs are now snug and safe! No tiger or demon or demoness could possibly get in there now!"
The Fuxiangs thanked the "carpenter," and "he" was on his way.
The next morning, out in the pen, Farmer Fuxiang noted that one pig seemed to be missing. He counted the pigs over and over again; sure enough, a pig was missing. He looked around the pen. Could it have gotten out somehow? No. The walls of the pigpen were tight, secure.
Oh, well, he thought, scratching his head.
Then, the next day and the next day after that, he noticed more pigs were missing, one for each day since the pen had been repaired.
The farmer and his wife looked at each other and had the same thought: the mountain god. Yes, they thought, the mountain god was taking their pigs. So, the farm couple raced over to the local mountain god shrine and prayed to the god not to take their pigs.
"Please spare us!" they prayed. "We need those pigs to sell to market!"
Not much happened after that, to their relief. Then, late one night about a month later, both husband and wife were awakened by the squeals of pigs.
The farmer tiptoed out the house and peered through a tiny opening. Inside the pen was the "carpenter"!
Aha, it was that impostor all along, thought the farmer.
Before the farmer could say or do a thing, the demoness, her feet like wings, had jumped or, more correctly, flown out of the pen with a pig under her arm.
The farmer told his wife. "You can now see why she didn't have a beard!" he said.
"What a fool I was! You were right to suspect her!" she said, slapping herself in the head.
The next day, the couple inspected the pen wall more carefully. They were not surprised to find a hidden door that permitted entry into the pen. With such a door, the demoness could enter fairly quietly. She could, if need be, make a sudden escape by leaping clear over the wall.
By sundown, the husband and wife were ready for the demoness's next visit. They both waited in the pen, the husband on one side of the door, the wife on the other. Both clutched sickles. There, they quietly waited and waited and waited . . .
Deep in the darkest part of that night, the demoness decided to make a return visit and steal yet another pig.
She crept up to the cleverly disguised secret door she herself had installed, oh so quietly opened it and gingerly stepped into the pigpen, unaware that just beyond the door stood the very angry Farmer and Mrs. Fuxiang.
Ah, the demoness thought to herself, the coast is clear yet again!
She then stuck her head and neck just a bit beyond the doorway when . . .
Whup! Whup!
The husband and wife cut her head off!
From that day on, Farmer and Mrs. Fuxiang never lost a pig again.
Notes
from Minhua ji, pp. 60-65. (Complete citation can be found on 1/13/09.)
Two other Hmong tales can be found at the postings for 1/13/09 and 2/12/09.
A hallmark of Indo-European folktales--characters being totally clueless--can be found in this story with the husband and wife not truly realizing the malevolent nature of the "carpenter" until the very end, after the trickster had had unfettered access to their pigpen. The original version in Chinese has the wife happily accepting grapes from the trickster, and both husband and wife are initially oblivious to a demoness in disguise. (Of course we're not supposed to recognize Superman is really Clark Kent without the hornrimmed glasses.)
The original version does not explain the relationship with a male child's having an illness, the parent's subsequent visit to the local earth god's shrine, and then having the child's ears pierced.
Motifs: F1071.2.1, "Enormous leap"; K521.2.5, "Disguise as a carpenter"; K1810, "Deception by disguise"; and K1832, "Disguise by changing voice."
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Northern Chinese Proverbs & Folk Sayings
Those who wish to be wealthy, wear clothing of rough cloth; those who are destined to be poor wear expensive silks. (from Shandong. People who scrimp and save and who deny themselves the finest things in life while working hard shall end up being rich, while those who love to splurge will end up in the poor house.)
Those who live south of the river think everything north of the river is great; those who suffer from leprosy or dysentery think ulcers are great. (from Northeastern China. "The grass is always greener on the other side," some say. Perspective is everything.)
Thirty percent is the medicine; seventy percent is the recuperation. (from Shandong. Medicine alone can't do it all; the lion's share depends on rest and positive attitude.)
Like a camel surprised to see a horse's heavy load. (from Beijing. Mocking bumpkins who are easily amazed by everyday sights.)
Like one who, without pants on, chases a thief out the door--there is a time to be valiant but also a time to recognize shame. (from Shandong. Said of those who act on impulse and who never take consequences into consideration.)
Like a child flying a kite in the forest--an entanglement is sure to come. (from Beijing. Said of outcomes that are far from certain.)
Like a headless fly, flying into things. (from Beijing. Said of people who end up making themselves busier in various matters due to their not planning earlier; for things, events to become hectic due to poor or no planning. To go around "like a chicken with its head cut off.")
Trying to borrow a pig from a tiger. (from Shandong. To engage in an impossible, pointless activity. Mandarin speakers also say, "To look up a tree for a fish.")
When one carries poison in the heart, ghosts soon knock on the door. (from Shandong. The end result of living a life of sin is not pleasant.)
A blind person singing the praises of flowers in bloom. (from Northeastern China. A somewhat convoluted and contrary way of mocking a person who pretends for one reason or another not to know about something. "Out of sight, out of mind.")
A tile shard can still be used as a table leg pad. (from Shandong. Everything under the sun has a purpose, a value; nothing is totally useless.)
Like a dog's tail that's been in a bottle--it's both stinky and slimy. (from Beijing. Said of people who seem disreputable, who "give off bad vibes.")
In times of plenty, belongings are counted; in times of need, they are gone and missed. (from Shandong. What a difference an unfortunate season can make!)
Like the chicken that doesn't urinate everywhere but rather saves up its one big dropping for a particular moment. (from Beijing. Said of those who don't exhibit much promise but surprise us all later with their talents and accomplishments.)
Like a married couple quarreling--don't make anything out of it. (from Shandong. Describing any temporary difficulty that will almost always resolve itself, something that requires no panicking.)
Like a cobbler who doesn't even have a workbench; like a sorcerer who has ghosts singing at the front gate. (from Northeastern China. Said of those who are too busy in their work to see to the necessities in their own lives, just as we might remark about gardeners who allow weeds to appear in their own yards, or the carpenter not having a coffin of his own.)
Notes
from Shang Yingshi, ed. Zhongguorende suhua. (See 6/9/07 for full citation.)
Those who live south of the river think everything north of the river is great; those who suffer from leprosy or dysentery think ulcers are great. (from Northeastern China. "The grass is always greener on the other side," some say. Perspective is everything.)
Thirty percent is the medicine; seventy percent is the recuperation. (from Shandong. Medicine alone can't do it all; the lion's share depends on rest and positive attitude.)
Like a camel surprised to see a horse's heavy load. (from Beijing. Mocking bumpkins who are easily amazed by everyday sights.)
Like one who, without pants on, chases a thief out the door--there is a time to be valiant but also a time to recognize shame. (from Shandong. Said of those who act on impulse and who never take consequences into consideration.)
Like a child flying a kite in the forest--an entanglement is sure to come. (from Beijing. Said of outcomes that are far from certain.)
Like a headless fly, flying into things. (from Beijing. Said of people who end up making themselves busier in various matters due to their not planning earlier; for things, events to become hectic due to poor or no planning. To go around "like a chicken with its head cut off.")
Trying to borrow a pig from a tiger. (from Shandong. To engage in an impossible, pointless activity. Mandarin speakers also say, "To look up a tree for a fish.")
When one carries poison in the heart, ghosts soon knock on the door. (from Shandong. The end result of living a life of sin is not pleasant.)
A blind person singing the praises of flowers in bloom. (from Northeastern China. A somewhat convoluted and contrary way of mocking a person who pretends for one reason or another not to know about something. "Out of sight, out of mind.")
A tile shard can still be used as a table leg pad. (from Shandong. Everything under the sun has a purpose, a value; nothing is totally useless.)
Like a dog's tail that's been in a bottle--it's both stinky and slimy. (from Beijing. Said of people who seem disreputable, who "give off bad vibes.")
In times of plenty, belongings are counted; in times of need, they are gone and missed. (from Shandong. What a difference an unfortunate season can make!)
Like the chicken that doesn't urinate everywhere but rather saves up its one big dropping for a particular moment. (from Beijing. Said of those who don't exhibit much promise but surprise us all later with their talents and accomplishments.)
Like a married couple quarreling--don't make anything out of it. (from Shandong. Describing any temporary difficulty that will almost always resolve itself, something that requires no panicking.)
Like a cobbler who doesn't even have a workbench; like a sorcerer who has ghosts singing at the front gate. (from Northeastern China. Said of those who are too busy in their work to see to the necessities in their own lives, just as we might remark about gardeners who allow weeds to appear in their own yards, or the carpenter not having a coffin of his own.)
Notes
from Shang Yingshi, ed. Zhongguorende suhua. (See 6/9/07 for full citation.)
Friday, October 30, 2009
The Golden Qilin (Fujian)
Way up in the heavens, right at the southern gate of the Heavenly Palace, is the Golden Qilin. At times, he opens the gate a crack and slyly takes a look on us down here. When the people are bustling, when the mountains and rivers are particularly serene and beautiful, then he prepares to come down amongst us . . .
They say at the foot of the Wuyi Mountains in Fujian Province, there once lived an old couple--a spry old man of eighty years and his equally peppy wife of seventy. Now this farm couple had never had the joy of little ones tugging at their pant legs and bobbing about at their knees. In their twilight years, they raised fish and birds, watching the fish dart back and forth and enjoying the chirping and peeping of the birds. This is what had to bring them pleasure.
One day, now, out in the field, the wife felt something crawling about in her ear. She scratched and tugged at her ear, and that seemed to take care of the problem for the time being, but not really. The feeling of something inside her ear was still there. Later at night, the sensation became more intense until she couldn't stand it anymore. She got a darning needle and probed her ear with it--not a good idea but the itching and scratching was driving her crazy.
Out of her ear and onto the table hopped a tiny little bug. She looked closely at it; it looked just like a very small silkworm! She picked it up, tossed it into a dustpan, and forgot all about it.
Three days later, she discovered this insect was now outgrowing the dustpan.
Huh, she thought. How about that . . .
So she put the thing into a bamboo cage, like the ones used for chickens. Three days later, it could no longer be contained by the cage. So the very curious woman carried the now much larger insect to the garden. And then, three days after this, the insect had now turned into a man-sized creature, with the body of a full-grown man and the head of a qilin!
Needless to say, both the husband and wife were utterly astounded to find this being in their garden. However, he--the qilin--turned out to be very sweet, kind and devoted to the pair, so they could not bare to send him off. Instead, they decided to let him live with them.
The husband and wife gave him a name--the Golden Qilin.
The Golden Qilin didn't consent to remain as a guest, though. No. He was very strong and offered to put himself to work to earn his keep. He then plowed the field all by himself, without needing an ox. He then, without so much as a bowl of rice in his stomach, turned over all the soil. When he took a "break," he went out into the forest and chopped and gathered firewood. He then hoisted the entire load of wood onto his shoulders and carried it on home!
The old husband and wife loved the Golden Qilin and doted on him, giving him good food to eat and clothes to wear. In turn, he was totally devoted and respectful to them.
"That Golden Qilin!" the neighbors would say. "He is such a good boy!"
Sadly, the happy home life the old couple and the Golden Qilin shared was not to last. Not long afterwards, the old man passed away; before long, his wife did so likewise.
The Golden Qilin was now all on his own. The only people he had ever known and loved were gone.
With no one else left at the farm, he tearfully packed up, left his home, and headed away from the Wuyi Mountains to travel to distant parts.
At this time, the whole empire was in turmoil; invaders had penetrated deep into China and threatened the imperial throne itself. Posters sprang up all over the capital. They read: "The Emperor needs a stalwart and brave warrior and champion to repel the invaders! Whoever can defeat them and rescue the empire shall marry the Emperor's third daughter. He shall become the Emperor's own son-in-law!"
Now it so happened that the Golden Qilin found himself in the imperial capital. All around were gangs of men, standing around, talking about the posters, no doubt dreaming about being victorious in battle and winning the Princess, yet not one stepped forward to volunteer. They were afraid. What if I get killed in battle? they thought. What if I survive but fail to turn back the invaders? Might I not just be serving my own head upon a platter to the emperor?
Hmm . . . , thought the Golden Qilin, to defeat the invaders is to win the hand of the princess. Why not? It is worth the try.
So he immediately headed for the palace, where he presented himself before the emperor. Impressed by his appearance and brute strength, the emperor appointed the Golden Qilin as "Great Barbarian-Punishing Commander-in-Chief." As such, the Golden Qilin was given command of a great force of men and horses.
The Golden Qilin lost no time. For a whole day and night, he double marched his army down to the banks of the river where the enemy force was camped. He then engaged them in battle. The invaders were so surprised and dispirited by the very appearance and fighting skills of the Golden Qilin that they threw down their weapons and armor and fled the field!
The invaders were defeated in this one battle but were not quite ready to return to their own land yet. Their crafty leader hand picked an elite group to attack the Golden Qilin's camp.
That night, under the cover of darkness, the enemy commander led his men himself towards the camp.
"Commander! Commander!" a messenger said, appearing before the Golden Qilin's tent. "An enemy host is swiftly approaching the camp from the south!"
"Alert the men," said the Golden Qilin.
He then had all the men leave a gap in the southern part of the camp. The men next all hid along the inner perimeter of the camp, forming a giant horseshoe formation.
The enemy force reached the southern edge of the camp. The invaders found no one to defend the gate and entered unopposed.
They all looked around. The camp seem deserted. Had it been abandoned?
Then, the Golden Qilin let out a cry and had his men open up their attack. From all directions, including the far southern edge now, the emperor's men fell upon the invaders with their swords.
The Golden Qilin rode up and personally cut down the enemy commander. As for the rest of the enemy soldiers, they all fell and died were they had stood.
The Golden Qilin, the Great Barbarian-Punishing Commander-in-Chief, had won his second great victory in as many days!
The very next day, the Golden Qilin and his men met the remnants of the invading force in one final battle and scattered them, sending the panicked survivors back to where they had come from. The invasion over, the Golden Qilin led his men triumphantly back to the capital.
The emperor received the Golden Qilin at court and heard first-hand the news of the two great victories. The southern boundary was now secure; the enemy had left; the empire was safe! The emperor looked at the Golden Qilin, this strange, not-quite-animal but certainly not-quite-human . . . thing. He thought about the promise he had made to the Golden Qilin, the promise to let the Golden Qilin marry the the third princess upon a victory. He knew it was a promise he could not keep.
"Golden Qilin," said the emperor, "it is my honor to award you three thousand ounces of silver."
"Am I to wed the Third Imperial Princess, Your Imperial Highness?" asked the Golden Qilin.
"That is another matter. You may marry if you wish. "
"I appreciate the monetary award, Highness, but I am not interested in the money. I wish to marry the princess. You had made me a promise. Does an emperor not need to keep his promise?"
There was silence. Then the emperor thought of something.
"Golden Qilin," said the emperor, "truth be told, my daughter is repulsed by the sight of you. Then, last night, something happened. The Tai Bai Jin Xing contacted me in my sleep through a dream. He said you could enter a golden vessel and stay there for a period of time. In 7,749 days you should then be able to assume a human shape. On that occasion, you and my daughter could be wed. Could anything be more wonderful than that?"
The Golden Qilin was a simple being, plain spoken and without any pretensions. He heard what the emperor said, nodded his head and agreed that the princess's engagement to the Tai Bai Jin Xing, the god of Venus, was for the best. In his heart, he loved the princess, for, after all, he had prepared to marry her and so he wanted what was best for her. He actually sympathized with her, understanding that she might not want to marry so hideous a creature as he himself.
So, yes, he said, he would enter this golden vessel, this distiller, and there wait for the 7, 749 if that would make his appearance more acceptable to the third princess.
The emperor snapped his fingers and had his men lug in a large golden distiller, the vessel, and told the Golden Qilin to enter it, which he did. The mouth of the vessel was then sealed. The emperor next ordered a palace eunuch to watch over the vessel night and day and to forbid anyone from entering it or for the Golden Qilin from leaving it.
And so there he sat, waiting for the 7,749 days to pass so that he could be married to his beloved.
Soon the third princess heard about what her father had done. She was incensed, for she had rightly guessed that the emperor wanted the Golden Qilin out of sight and out of mind. Moreover, her father wouldn't mind if the Golden Qilin suffocated or starved in the process.
The princess snuck into the chamber that kept the golden vessel. Sure enough, sitting before it, arms crossed and wide awake, was the eunuch, guarding the vessel with his very life. The princess realized there was nothing she could do at the moment, so she retreated back to her quarters.
What could she do?
Meanwhile, time passed quickly. In fact, a month and a half had now passed. If he is not out soon, thought the princess, he shall be suffocated.
Truth be told, the Golden Qilin was not close to death because of suffocation. He was in a miserable state, though, weak from a lack of water. Not a drop of water had been given to him since his being sealed up in the golden vessel. If the emperor wanted to kill him, it would be very easy to do so now.
The third princess rounded up all her ladies-in-waiting. Together they tiptoed to the chamber in the wee hours of the morning. They hid and observed the eunuch guarding the vessel.
He was nodding off, at this, the hardest time of all to stay awake! I'll just close . . . my eyes . . . for a few . . . seconds, he thought. What . . . harm . . . could . . . that . . . do . . . ?
He was asleep! Quickly, the princess and her attendants pounced upon the golden vessel, dug their nails into the seal and finally pried it right off the vessel.
They looked in. What did they see? A very thirsty and very hungry but also very handsome young man!
The princess herself helped the Golden Qilin out of the vessel. They embraced and knew they had been meant for each other.
The next morning the third princess appeared at court before her father, the emperor. There, holding his hand, she presented the Golden Qilin, now a fine-looking youth.
"Father, . . . may . . . I . . . present . . . the . . . Golden . . . Qilin?"
"What!?"
Call it pride, call it shock, call it embarrassment or call it saving face. The emperor could have taken both their heads but instead banished them. The third princess and the Golden Qilin were to be sent "to the mountains," the imperial edict read, "never to reappear upon the plains."
And so the young couple left the imperial capital and headed for the Wuyi Mountains of what is today Fujian Province. There, the Golden Qilin felled some trees and built a hut for the princess and himself. From then on, he was a farmer, hoeing the soil, sowing seeds, planting, harvesting. The third princess spun, knitted and embroidered. They were never without what they needed to live, and they certainly were never without each other ever again. For the rest of their days on earth, they lived happily and continually in love.
Notes
from Huang Rongcan, Fujian minjian chuanqi, pp. 95-98. (See 7/22/07 for full citation.)
Many details of this story are reminiscent of Indo-European folktales. Namely, characters mindlessly engage in physically impossible tasks--i.e., standing vigil without attempting to sleep or entering an airtight chamber in an attempt to stay for more than 7,000 days. Moreover, the eunuch, once the Golden Qilin is sprung from his vessel prison, disappears from the story. No more is mentioned of him, no "heads-up" is given the emperor about his daughter's liberating the Golden Qilin; instead, the emperor is allowed to discover the details of the Golden Qilin's transformation the day after. In Indo-European folktales and in Chinese folktales that are cognates of them, there are consequences that are met (i.e., banishment) and those that are seemingly ignored (i.e., the eunuch's dereliction of duty). The Golden Qilin's later deification and ascent to the heavens are also left unexplained. My comments are not criticism; rather, I am just noting what the great Indo-European folktale scholar Max Luethi had previously observed in such folktales. The original text does not show any introduction of the Golden Qilin to the third princess. The only time they meet seems to be near the end, during the rescue. The text doesn't seem to justify the hero's deep love for the hitherto unseen princess in the scene where the emperor tells him that he, the Golden Qilin, will have to climb into the golden vessel for many thousands of days to make himself more presentable to the woman he loves. The original text also surprisingly has the princess and Golden Qilin kiss upon his rescue from the golden vessel, a detail I chose to leave out.
The traditional qilin is the Chinese unicorn, a mythical creature symbolic of great joy, longevity, and fecundity. It's appearance ushers in a period of harmonic and benevolent rule. So gentle is it that it will not tread upon living grass. It is said to have the body of a deer, the tale of an ox, the hooves of a horse and "forehead of a wolf" (see "Unicorn" in Outlines of Chinese Symbolism and Art Motives by C. A. S. Williams; the complete citation can be found in the post for 7/22/07). It is usually depicted with a scaled body and one horn, though qilins with more than one horn sometimes appear in popular prints as well.
Tai Bai ("the Great White One") and Jin Xing ("the gold star") are one in the same: Venus. His father is Bai Di, the White Emperor, one of the Five Heavenly Emperors of Taoism, who reigns in the Western skies. Tai Bai Jin Xing also makes an appearance in the famous Chinese novel Journey to the West.
For a similar tale type, see "Winter Melon Boy" on 2/12/09; both are very similar to the Japanese folktale "Momotaro."
Motifs: T50.2, "King (emperor) does not want daughter to marry"; T97, "Father opposed to daughter's marriage"; L161, "Lowly hero marries princess."
One day, now, out in the field, the wife felt something crawling about in her ear. She scratched and tugged at her ear, and that seemed to take care of the problem for the time being, but not really. The feeling of something inside her ear was still there. Later at night, the sensation became more intense until she couldn't stand it anymore. She got a darning needle and probed her ear with it--not a good idea but the itching and scratching was driving her crazy.
Out of her ear and onto the table hopped a tiny little bug. She looked closely at it; it looked just like a very small silkworm! She picked it up, tossed it into a dustpan, and forgot all about it.
Three days later, she discovered this insect was now outgrowing the dustpan.
Huh, she thought. How about that . . .
So she put the thing into a bamboo cage, like the ones used for chickens. Three days later, it could no longer be contained by the cage. So the very curious woman carried the now much larger insect to the garden. And then, three days after this, the insect had now turned into a man-sized creature, with the body of a full-grown man and the head of a qilin!
Needless to say, both the husband and wife were utterly astounded to find this being in their garden. However, he--the qilin--turned out to be very sweet, kind and devoted to the pair, so they could not bare to send him off. Instead, they decided to let him live with them.
The husband and wife gave him a name--the Golden Qilin.
The Golden Qilin didn't consent to remain as a guest, though. No. He was very strong and offered to put himself to work to earn his keep. He then plowed the field all by himself, without needing an ox. He then, without so much as a bowl of rice in his stomach, turned over all the soil. When he took a "break," he went out into the forest and chopped and gathered firewood. He then hoisted the entire load of wood onto his shoulders and carried it on home!
The old husband and wife loved the Golden Qilin and doted on him, giving him good food to eat and clothes to wear. In turn, he was totally devoted and respectful to them.
"That Golden Qilin!" the neighbors would say. "He is such a good boy!"
Sadly, the happy home life the old couple and the Golden Qilin shared was not to last. Not long afterwards, the old man passed away; before long, his wife did so likewise.
The Golden Qilin was now all on his own. The only people he had ever known and loved were gone.
With no one else left at the farm, he tearfully packed up, left his home, and headed away from the Wuyi Mountains to travel to distant parts.
At this time, the whole empire was in turmoil; invaders had penetrated deep into China and threatened the imperial throne itself. Posters sprang up all over the capital. They read: "The Emperor needs a stalwart and brave warrior and champion to repel the invaders! Whoever can defeat them and rescue the empire shall marry the Emperor's third daughter. He shall become the Emperor's own son-in-law!"
Now it so happened that the Golden Qilin found himself in the imperial capital. All around were gangs of men, standing around, talking about the posters, no doubt dreaming about being victorious in battle and winning the Princess, yet not one stepped forward to volunteer. They were afraid. What if I get killed in battle? they thought. What if I survive but fail to turn back the invaders? Might I not just be serving my own head upon a platter to the emperor?
Hmm . . . , thought the Golden Qilin, to defeat the invaders is to win the hand of the princess. Why not? It is worth the try.
So he immediately headed for the palace, where he presented himself before the emperor. Impressed by his appearance and brute strength, the emperor appointed the Golden Qilin as "Great Barbarian-Punishing Commander-in-Chief." As such, the Golden Qilin was given command of a great force of men and horses.
The Golden Qilin lost no time. For a whole day and night, he double marched his army down to the banks of the river where the enemy force was camped. He then engaged them in battle. The invaders were so surprised and dispirited by the very appearance and fighting skills of the Golden Qilin that they threw down their weapons and armor and fled the field!
The invaders were defeated in this one battle but were not quite ready to return to their own land yet. Their crafty leader hand picked an elite group to attack the Golden Qilin's camp.
That night, under the cover of darkness, the enemy commander led his men himself towards the camp.
"Commander! Commander!" a messenger said, appearing before the Golden Qilin's tent. "An enemy host is swiftly approaching the camp from the south!"
"Alert the men," said the Golden Qilin.
He then had all the men leave a gap in the southern part of the camp. The men next all hid along the inner perimeter of the camp, forming a giant horseshoe formation.
The enemy force reached the southern edge of the camp. The invaders found no one to defend the gate and entered unopposed.
They all looked around. The camp seem deserted. Had it been abandoned?
Then, the Golden Qilin let out a cry and had his men open up their attack. From all directions, including the far southern edge now, the emperor's men fell upon the invaders with their swords.
The Golden Qilin rode up and personally cut down the enemy commander. As for the rest of the enemy soldiers, they all fell and died were they had stood.
The Golden Qilin, the Great Barbarian-Punishing Commander-in-Chief, had won his second great victory in as many days!
The very next day, the Golden Qilin and his men met the remnants of the invading force in one final battle and scattered them, sending the panicked survivors back to where they had come from. The invasion over, the Golden Qilin led his men triumphantly back to the capital.
The emperor received the Golden Qilin at court and heard first-hand the news of the two great victories. The southern boundary was now secure; the enemy had left; the empire was safe! The emperor looked at the Golden Qilin, this strange, not-quite-animal but certainly not-quite-human . . . thing. He thought about the promise he had made to the Golden Qilin, the promise to let the Golden Qilin marry the the third princess upon a victory. He knew it was a promise he could not keep.
"Golden Qilin," said the emperor, "it is my honor to award you three thousand ounces of silver."
"Am I to wed the Third Imperial Princess, Your Imperial Highness?" asked the Golden Qilin.
"That is another matter. You may marry if you wish. "
"I appreciate the monetary award, Highness, but I am not interested in the money. I wish to marry the princess. You had made me a promise. Does an emperor not need to keep his promise?"
There was silence. Then the emperor thought of something.
"Golden Qilin," said the emperor, "truth be told, my daughter is repulsed by the sight of you. Then, last night, something happened. The Tai Bai Jin Xing contacted me in my sleep through a dream. He said you could enter a golden vessel and stay there for a period of time. In 7,749 days you should then be able to assume a human shape. On that occasion, you and my daughter could be wed. Could anything be more wonderful than that?"
The Golden Qilin was a simple being, plain spoken and without any pretensions. He heard what the emperor said, nodded his head and agreed that the princess's engagement to the Tai Bai Jin Xing, the god of Venus, was for the best. In his heart, he loved the princess, for, after all, he had prepared to marry her and so he wanted what was best for her. He actually sympathized with her, understanding that she might not want to marry so hideous a creature as he himself.
So, yes, he said, he would enter this golden vessel, this distiller, and there wait for the 7, 749 if that would make his appearance more acceptable to the third princess.
The emperor snapped his fingers and had his men lug in a large golden distiller, the vessel, and told the Golden Qilin to enter it, which he did. The mouth of the vessel was then sealed. The emperor next ordered a palace eunuch to watch over the vessel night and day and to forbid anyone from entering it or for the Golden Qilin from leaving it.
And so there he sat, waiting for the 7,749 days to pass so that he could be married to his beloved.
Soon the third princess heard about what her father had done. She was incensed, for she had rightly guessed that the emperor wanted the Golden Qilin out of sight and out of mind. Moreover, her father wouldn't mind if the Golden Qilin suffocated or starved in the process.
The princess snuck into the chamber that kept the golden vessel. Sure enough, sitting before it, arms crossed and wide awake, was the eunuch, guarding the vessel with his very life. The princess realized there was nothing she could do at the moment, so she retreated back to her quarters.
What could she do?
Meanwhile, time passed quickly. In fact, a month and a half had now passed. If he is not out soon, thought the princess, he shall be suffocated.
Truth be told, the Golden Qilin was not close to death because of suffocation. He was in a miserable state, though, weak from a lack of water. Not a drop of water had been given to him since his being sealed up in the golden vessel. If the emperor wanted to kill him, it would be very easy to do so now.
The third princess rounded up all her ladies-in-waiting. Together they tiptoed to the chamber in the wee hours of the morning. They hid and observed the eunuch guarding the vessel.
He was nodding off, at this, the hardest time of all to stay awake! I'll just close . . . my eyes . . . for a few . . . seconds, he thought. What . . . harm . . . could . . . that . . . do . . . ?
He was asleep! Quickly, the princess and her attendants pounced upon the golden vessel, dug their nails into the seal and finally pried it right off the vessel.
They looked in. What did they see? A very thirsty and very hungry but also very handsome young man!
The princess herself helped the Golden Qilin out of the vessel. They embraced and knew they had been meant for each other.
The next morning the third princess appeared at court before her father, the emperor. There, holding his hand, she presented the Golden Qilin, now a fine-looking youth.
"Father, . . . may . . . I . . . present . . . the . . . Golden . . . Qilin?"
"What!?"
Call it pride, call it shock, call it embarrassment or call it saving face. The emperor could have taken both their heads but instead banished them. The third princess and the Golden Qilin were to be sent "to the mountains," the imperial edict read, "never to reappear upon the plains."
And so the young couple left the imperial capital and headed for the Wuyi Mountains of what is today Fujian Province. There, the Golden Qilin felled some trees and built a hut for the princess and himself. From then on, he was a farmer, hoeing the soil, sowing seeds, planting, harvesting. The third princess spun, knitted and embroidered. They were never without what they needed to live, and they certainly were never without each other ever again. For the rest of their days on earth, they lived happily and continually in love.
Notes
from Huang Rongcan, Fujian minjian chuanqi, pp. 95-98. (See 7/22/07 for full citation.)
Many details of this story are reminiscent of Indo-European folktales. Namely, characters mindlessly engage in physically impossible tasks--i.e., standing vigil without attempting to sleep or entering an airtight chamber in an attempt to stay for more than 7,000 days. Moreover, the eunuch, once the Golden Qilin is sprung from his vessel prison, disappears from the story. No more is mentioned of him, no "heads-up" is given the emperor about his daughter's liberating the Golden Qilin; instead, the emperor is allowed to discover the details of the Golden Qilin's transformation the day after. In Indo-European folktales and in Chinese folktales that are cognates of them, there are consequences that are met (i.e., banishment) and those that are seemingly ignored (i.e., the eunuch's dereliction of duty). The Golden Qilin's later deification and ascent to the heavens are also left unexplained. My comments are not criticism; rather, I am just noting what the great Indo-European folktale scholar Max Luethi had previously observed in such folktales. The original text does not show any introduction of the Golden Qilin to the third princess. The only time they meet seems to be near the end, during the rescue. The text doesn't seem to justify the hero's deep love for the hitherto unseen princess in the scene where the emperor tells him that he, the Golden Qilin, will have to climb into the golden vessel for many thousands of days to make himself more presentable to the woman he loves. The original text also surprisingly has the princess and Golden Qilin kiss upon his rescue from the golden vessel, a detail I chose to leave out.
The traditional qilin is the Chinese unicorn, a mythical creature symbolic of great joy, longevity, and fecundity. It's appearance ushers in a period of harmonic and benevolent rule. So gentle is it that it will not tread upon living grass. It is said to have the body of a deer, the tale of an ox, the hooves of a horse and "forehead of a wolf" (see "Unicorn" in Outlines of Chinese Symbolism and Art Motives by C. A. S. Williams; the complete citation can be found in the post for 7/22/07). It is usually depicted with a scaled body and one horn, though qilins with more than one horn sometimes appear in popular prints as well.
Tai Bai ("the Great White One") and Jin Xing ("the gold star") are one in the same: Venus. His father is Bai Di, the White Emperor, one of the Five Heavenly Emperors of Taoism, who reigns in the Western skies. Tai Bai Jin Xing also makes an appearance in the famous Chinese novel Journey to the West.
For a similar tale type, see "Winter Melon Boy" on 2/12/09; both are very similar to the Japanese folktale "Momotaro."
Motifs: T50.2, "King (emperor) does not want daughter to marry"; T97, "Father opposed to daughter's marriage"; L161, "Lowly hero marries princess."
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Two Ghost Stories (Series Four) & A Shapeshifting Tale From Ancient China
(1) The Tale of Ji Kang
Ji Kang was a renowned scholar of the third century A.D.; he was also an inveterate traveler, often on the road, visiting all the places he fancied seeing.
One time he walked in a southwesterly direction out of Loyang for more than ten li and found himself in a town called Huayangting. There, he decided to spend the night. He found lodging for one in an inn.
In those days Huayangting had a bad reputation as a dangerous place, many murders having been committed there. Ji Kang was aware of this but not concerned. In the middle of the night, he took out his lute and started strumming some tunes.
Suddenly a sound, much like a mumbling of pleasure, drifted through the room like a breeze of air.
"Who is there?" asked Ji Kang, continuing to play and not missing a chord.
"Just someone who died in this room long ago," said the voice. "When I heard you play, I had to come back. Your music is so beautiful. You'll have to excuse me. I didn't die a pretty death. I want so much to come face to face with you but wish you won't be revolted by what you see."
"It's very late and dark outside. Come on and appear," replied Ji Kang. "You might indeed not look very pretty, but, anyway, what do I care about how you look!"
The ghost instantly appeared and grabbed Ji Kang by the head.
"Your music has made me very, very happy, more than you can ever know. It makes me feel alive again."
Ji Kang did not act afraid. Instead, he and the ghost carried on a lively conversation about music for the rest of the night.
"Say, may I borrow your lute and play something?" asked the ghost at some point very early in the morning.
Ji Kang handed him the lute. The ghost began to play.
He's not very good at all, thought Ji Kang.
Suddenly, though, the ghost started playing a melody that undoubtedly no mortal had ever heard before, and he handled it exquisitely. Ji Kang was enraptured throughout the rest of this performance. He asked the ghost to teach him this tune. It took much of the early morning, but Ji Kang finally learned how to play it.
Of all I have ever learned to play, thought Ji Kang, nothing comes close to being as beautiful as this unearthly song.
The ghost knew how much Ji Kang valued this melody but told him he must never pass the song or its technique on to any other person. He also refused to tell Ji Kang his name.
When the darkness began to give way to light, the ghost said, "Although you and I can never meet again, I will never forget you. I now have to leave you, and it makes me very sad to do so."
With that, he disappeared.
Notes
from Hanwei liuchao guiguai xiaoshuo, Yeh Qingbing, ed. pp. 84-85. Originally from Liu Yiqing.
Liu Yiqing (403-444 A.D.) was more famous for another work, Shishuo xinyu (New Chats on What's Happening in the World).
Motifs: E378, "Ghost continues to remain in usual surroundings after death; E402.1.1.; "Ghost speaks"; E402.1.3; E554, "Ghost plays musical instrument."
(2) An Old Man and His Daughter
During the time of the Eastern Jin, in Guzhang County (now Northwest Anji County, Zhejiang Province) there lived an old man and his beautiful and unmarried daughter. They lived together up on Shen Mountain, and there they were utterly devoted to each other.
Now, a certain young man named Guang of nearby Yukang County approached the old man and asked for his daughter's hand in marriage. No. The old man refused.
And so, for a while, that was that.
One day the old man died, so his daughter had to go into town to purchase a coffin. On the road into town, she encountered Guang, who had not lost one whit of his passion for her.
"Look, " she said to him, "I'm all worn out to the bone with what I have to do to prepare for Father's funeral. If you would so kindly watch Father's remains until I can come back with a coffin, I promise to marry you." Guang quickly agreed. "Feel free," added the daughter, "to slaughter any of the pigs in the pen outside our house."
Well, that was also fine with Guang, so he hurried up to the young lady's house.
Guang had no sooner reached the front door of the Shen Mountain home when he heard from within the house the sounds of applause and laughter.
He took a peek inside.
The room was full of ghosts surrounding the old man's body, poking, pulling, disturbing and, worse, mocking it!
Guang found a long piece of wood that could be used as a club, rushed in the house with a loud roar like that of a madman, and scattered the ghosts. The ghosts scattered, running in all directions.
He then took his place by the corpse and began his vigil, breaking it once to go outside to slaughter a pig.
Near midnight, as Guang was feasting on some pork ribs, a long hand--the hand of an old ghost--reached out to Guang to beg for something to eat. Guang turned around and grabbed the old ghost by the shoulder. The more the ghost resisted, the tighter Guang held.
Outside, the rest of the ghosts had gathered.
"You greedy devil," they chanted, mocking Guang, "unable to part with one bite! You'll have your comeuppance, your heavenly payback! Just wait and see!"
Guang turned to the old ghost and said, "It must have been you who had killed this nice old man!
I bet you stole his life essence. Well, if you stole it, you can also return it! Give it back, or else I won't let go of you."
"I am not the one!" cried the old ghost. "My children are the ones who killed him." The old ghost then tilted his head towards the direction of his ghostly children. "Give 'im back his life!"
Then, moments later, the old man who had been lying virtually dead started to breathe and then to stir. Guang let go of the old ghost.
Then not long after, the daughter arrived back home, with porters in tow in carrying a coffin. Imagine her surprise to see her dear old father sitting up, alive and well!
And so a tragedy was turned into a joyous occasion.
And yes--the daughter still kept her promise. Guang and she were promptly wed!
Notes
from Hanwei liuchao guiguai xiaoshuo, p. 168. Originally by Liu Yiqing.
The old ghost in the story and his mob are reminiscent of the so-called "hungry ghosts," though he and the other specters are not specifically described as such. Suppose they are indeed hungry ghosts, otherwise known as "wandering ghosts" or the euphemism used by rural Taiwanese, "the good brothers." They are the ghosts for whom there is no one left to offer sacrifices; hence, they wander the earth vainly in search of food and drink. Hungry ghosts, the preta of Indian Buddhism and the Hinduism that preceded it, have been popularly depicted as having ultra thin necks, pinhole mouths and huge extended abdomens, all indicative of those who are starving, craving food but physically unable to ingest it (see Gods, Ghosts & Ancestors by David K. Jordan [Berkeley: University of California Press], pp. 34-35). Author Lin Liming writes that there are thirty-six varieties of hungry ghosts. Among them are the following: ghosts that "eat water," "drink blood," "eat the wind"; and ghosts of "the wide open spaces"; "the social world," and "filthy alleys" (Guiyu shijie [The world of the ghostly domain]; Xiamen: Xiamen Daxue Chubanshe, 1993, p. 60).
Motifs: E337.1.3.1., "Sounds of ghostly party"; E402.1.1.3.,"Ghosts cries & screams"; E499, "Meetings of the dead."
(3) A Filial Son
In the time of the Jin, there was an impoverished young man whose mother had just died. Because he had no money to pay for a proper funeral, he had the coffin taken up Mount Liang. There, he located a plot of land, dug a hole, and began to construct a tomb for his mother. In the evening, he slept by the fire in his makeshift camp.
He worked day and night on the tomb. He was still working on the tomb early in the evenng when a young mother carrying a baby stumbled into his camp. Could she and her baby spend the night next to the warmth of his fire? He of course said yes and continued to work on the tomb well into the darkness.
It was now late at night, and the filial son decided to turn in for the night, to go to sleep in his little camp by his mother's grave.
He turned to look at the woman and child sleeping by the fire; he didn't, however, see a woman and child.
No, what he saw was a fox cradling in its paws a black crow!
He crept up to them and beat them both to death. He then threw their remains down a pit.
The next day a man came by the camp and tomb.
"Excuse me," he asked. "Last night my wife and child were here. Do you know where they are?"
"There was no woman or child here last night. There were just a fox and a crow, and I killed them both."
"You killed my wife and baby! How can you now turn around and say that you killed a fox and a crow? Very well, then. Can you show me where you put the two bodies?"
"Follow me."
The filial son led the man to the pit. The son looked down, expecting to see the carcasses of two animals. The fox and crow were gone! Lying in the pit were a dead woman and a baby!
The husband of the dead woman grabbed the son, subdued him and tied him up. He then dragged the young man to the local government house and demanded the filial son pay with his life for the murder of the woman and her baby.
"Please, Your Honor," he told the magistrate, "don't believe this man! This is obviously a case of shapeshifting! Please bring out your best bloodhound! It will get to the bottom of this problem!"
The magistrate thought about what the filial son had said, snapped his fingers and had a bloodhound and a tracker brought in. The husband took one look at the bloodhound and promptly turned into a fox right on the spot. Before the fox could get away, though, the tracker shot it dead with an arrow.
The magistrate ordered the son released.
The son returned to the mountain and to the pit. Lying in the pit were the small carcass of a fox and the even smaller one of a crow.
Notes
from Hanwei liuchao guiguai xiaoshuo, pp. 169-170. Originally by Liu Yiqing.
This is a very early example of what would become a staple of East Asian supernatural lore, the shapeshifter. Here the primary beast is the fox, a creature that can combine the characteristics of cunning, dangerousness, voluptuousness, and charm. For two folktales about shapeshifters--respectively a tiger and a wolf--see the postings for 6/8/07 and 3/26/08. For still other stories, especially those about were-foxes, see the famous Ming dynasty anthology, Strange Stories From a Chinese Studio by Pu Songling, available in many English translations.
Crows and ravens have traditionally been considered ominous throughout the Western world but not necessarily in the Far East, where in ancient times the crow or raven was considered to be a sun symbol and a model of filial piety for the belief that it feeds its parents (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, p. 789; see 2/26/2008 for full citation.) However, folklore expert Professor Ren Cheng writes that while Manchus might revere the crow or raven and set out a sacrifice for it, the majority Han Chinese of Nanjing, Jiangsu region, would in former times upon hearing a raven or crow cry early in the morning recite a special seven-character formula to avert ill luck (Zhongguo minjian jinji [Chinese Folk Taboos], Taipei: Hanxin, 1996, p. 564).
Ji Kang was a renowned scholar of the third century A.D.; he was also an inveterate traveler, often on the road, visiting all the places he fancied seeing.
One time he walked in a southwesterly direction out of Loyang for more than ten li and found himself in a town called Huayangting. There, he decided to spend the night. He found lodging for one in an inn.
In those days Huayangting had a bad reputation as a dangerous place, many murders having been committed there. Ji Kang was aware of this but not concerned. In the middle of the night, he took out his lute and started strumming some tunes.
Suddenly a sound, much like a mumbling of pleasure, drifted through the room like a breeze of air.
"Who is there?" asked Ji Kang, continuing to play and not missing a chord.
"Just someone who died in this room long ago," said the voice. "When I heard you play, I had to come back. Your music is so beautiful. You'll have to excuse me. I didn't die a pretty death. I want so much to come face to face with you but wish you won't be revolted by what you see."
"It's very late and dark outside. Come on and appear," replied Ji Kang. "You might indeed not look very pretty, but, anyway, what do I care about how you look!"
The ghost instantly appeared and grabbed Ji Kang by the head.
"Your music has made me very, very happy, more than you can ever know. It makes me feel alive again."
Ji Kang did not act afraid. Instead, he and the ghost carried on a lively conversation about music for the rest of the night.
"Say, may I borrow your lute and play something?" asked the ghost at some point very early in the morning.
Ji Kang handed him the lute. The ghost began to play.
He's not very good at all, thought Ji Kang.
Suddenly, though, the ghost started playing a melody that undoubtedly no mortal had ever heard before, and he handled it exquisitely. Ji Kang was enraptured throughout the rest of this performance. He asked the ghost to teach him this tune. It took much of the early morning, but Ji Kang finally learned how to play it.
Of all I have ever learned to play, thought Ji Kang, nothing comes close to being as beautiful as this unearthly song.
The ghost knew how much Ji Kang valued this melody but told him he must never pass the song or its technique on to any other person. He also refused to tell Ji Kang his name.
When the darkness began to give way to light, the ghost said, "Although you and I can never meet again, I will never forget you. I now have to leave you, and it makes me very sad to do so."
With that, he disappeared.
Notes
from Hanwei liuchao guiguai xiaoshuo, Yeh Qingbing, ed. pp. 84-85. Originally from Liu Yiqing.
Liu Yiqing (403-444 A.D.) was more famous for another work, Shishuo xinyu (New Chats on What's Happening in the World).
Motifs: E378, "Ghost continues to remain in usual surroundings after death; E402.1.1.; "Ghost speaks"; E402.1.3; E554, "Ghost plays musical instrument."
(2) An Old Man and His Daughter
During the time of the Eastern Jin, in Guzhang County (now Northwest Anji County, Zhejiang Province) there lived an old man and his beautiful and unmarried daughter. They lived together up on Shen Mountain, and there they were utterly devoted to each other.
Now, a certain young man named Guang of nearby Yukang County approached the old man and asked for his daughter's hand in marriage. No. The old man refused.
And so, for a while, that was that.
One day the old man died, so his daughter had to go into town to purchase a coffin. On the road into town, she encountered Guang, who had not lost one whit of his passion for her.
"Look, " she said to him, "I'm all worn out to the bone with what I have to do to prepare for Father's funeral. If you would so kindly watch Father's remains until I can come back with a coffin, I promise to marry you." Guang quickly agreed. "Feel free," added the daughter, "to slaughter any of the pigs in the pen outside our house."
Well, that was also fine with Guang, so he hurried up to the young lady's house.
Guang had no sooner reached the front door of the Shen Mountain home when he heard from within the house the sounds of applause and laughter.
He took a peek inside.
The room was full of ghosts surrounding the old man's body, poking, pulling, disturbing and, worse, mocking it!
Guang found a long piece of wood that could be used as a club, rushed in the house with a loud roar like that of a madman, and scattered the ghosts. The ghosts scattered, running in all directions.
He then took his place by the corpse and began his vigil, breaking it once to go outside to slaughter a pig.
Near midnight, as Guang was feasting on some pork ribs, a long hand--the hand of an old ghost--reached out to Guang to beg for something to eat. Guang turned around and grabbed the old ghost by the shoulder. The more the ghost resisted, the tighter Guang held.
Outside, the rest of the ghosts had gathered.
"You greedy devil," they chanted, mocking Guang, "unable to part with one bite! You'll have your comeuppance, your heavenly payback! Just wait and see!"
Guang turned to the old ghost and said, "It must have been you who had killed this nice old man!
I bet you stole his life essence. Well, if you stole it, you can also return it! Give it back, or else I won't let go of you."
"I am not the one!" cried the old ghost. "My children are the ones who killed him." The old ghost then tilted his head towards the direction of his ghostly children. "Give 'im back his life!"
Then, moments later, the old man who had been lying virtually dead started to breathe and then to stir. Guang let go of the old ghost.
Then not long after, the daughter arrived back home, with porters in tow in carrying a coffin. Imagine her surprise to see her dear old father sitting up, alive and well!
And so a tragedy was turned into a joyous occasion.
And yes--the daughter still kept her promise. Guang and she were promptly wed!
Notes
from Hanwei liuchao guiguai xiaoshuo, p. 168. Originally by Liu Yiqing.
The old ghost in the story and his mob are reminiscent of the so-called "hungry ghosts," though he and the other specters are not specifically described as such. Suppose they are indeed hungry ghosts, otherwise known as "wandering ghosts" or the euphemism used by rural Taiwanese, "the good brothers." They are the ghosts for whom there is no one left to offer sacrifices; hence, they wander the earth vainly in search of food and drink. Hungry ghosts, the preta of Indian Buddhism and the Hinduism that preceded it, have been popularly depicted as having ultra thin necks, pinhole mouths and huge extended abdomens, all indicative of those who are starving, craving food but physically unable to ingest it (see Gods, Ghosts & Ancestors by David K. Jordan [Berkeley: University of California Press], pp. 34-35). Author Lin Liming writes that there are thirty-six varieties of hungry ghosts. Among them are the following: ghosts that "eat water," "drink blood," "eat the wind"; and ghosts of "the wide open spaces"; "the social world," and "filthy alleys" (Guiyu shijie [The world of the ghostly domain]; Xiamen: Xiamen Daxue Chubanshe, 1993, p. 60).
Motifs: E337.1.3.1., "Sounds of ghostly party"; E402.1.1.3.,"Ghosts cries & screams"; E499, "Meetings of the dead."
(3) A Filial Son
In the time of the Jin, there was an impoverished young man whose mother had just died. Because he had no money to pay for a proper funeral, he had the coffin taken up Mount Liang. There, he located a plot of land, dug a hole, and began to construct a tomb for his mother. In the evening, he slept by the fire in his makeshift camp.
He worked day and night on the tomb. He was still working on the tomb early in the evenng when a young mother carrying a baby stumbled into his camp. Could she and her baby spend the night next to the warmth of his fire? He of course said yes and continued to work on the tomb well into the darkness.
It was now late at night, and the filial son decided to turn in for the night, to go to sleep in his little camp by his mother's grave.
He turned to look at the woman and child sleeping by the fire; he didn't, however, see a woman and child.
No, what he saw was a fox cradling in its paws a black crow!
He crept up to them and beat them both to death. He then threw their remains down a pit.
The next day a man came by the camp and tomb.
"Excuse me," he asked. "Last night my wife and child were here. Do you know where they are?"
"There was no woman or child here last night. There were just a fox and a crow, and I killed them both."
"You killed my wife and baby! How can you now turn around and say that you killed a fox and a crow? Very well, then. Can you show me where you put the two bodies?"
"Follow me."
The filial son led the man to the pit. The son looked down, expecting to see the carcasses of two animals. The fox and crow were gone! Lying in the pit were a dead woman and a baby!
The husband of the dead woman grabbed the son, subdued him and tied him up. He then dragged the young man to the local government house and demanded the filial son pay with his life for the murder of the woman and her baby.
"Please, Your Honor," he told the magistrate, "don't believe this man! This is obviously a case of shapeshifting! Please bring out your best bloodhound! It will get to the bottom of this problem!"
The magistrate thought about what the filial son had said, snapped his fingers and had a bloodhound and a tracker brought in. The husband took one look at the bloodhound and promptly turned into a fox right on the spot. Before the fox could get away, though, the tracker shot it dead with an arrow.
The magistrate ordered the son released.
The son returned to the mountain and to the pit. Lying in the pit were the small carcass of a fox and the even smaller one of a crow.
Notes
from Hanwei liuchao guiguai xiaoshuo, pp. 169-170. Originally by Liu Yiqing.
This is a very early example of what would become a staple of East Asian supernatural lore, the shapeshifter. Here the primary beast is the fox, a creature that can combine the characteristics of cunning, dangerousness, voluptuousness, and charm. For two folktales about shapeshifters--respectively a tiger and a wolf--see the postings for 6/8/07 and 3/26/08. For still other stories, especially those about were-foxes, see the famous Ming dynasty anthology, Strange Stories From a Chinese Studio by Pu Songling, available in many English translations.
Crows and ravens have traditionally been considered ominous throughout the Western world but not necessarily in the Far East, where in ancient times the crow or raven was considered to be a sun symbol and a model of filial piety for the belief that it feeds its parents (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, p. 789; see 2/26/2008 for full citation.) However, folklore expert Professor Ren Cheng writes that while Manchus might revere the crow or raven and set out a sacrifice for it, the majority Han Chinese of Nanjing, Jiangsu region, would in former times upon hearing a raven or crow cry early in the morning recite a special seven-character formula to avert ill luck (Zhongguo minjian jinji [Chinese Folk Taboos], Taipei: Hanxin, 1996, p. 564).
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Mynah Bird (Han)
There was once a mason, plasterer and artisan named Liu Shan, and he had raised a mynah bird from the time he was just a boy. Now this was no ordinary bird, nor no ordinary mynah bird, for that matter. This mynah bird had a very lively, cheery disposition and an incredible vocabulary for a talking bird.
Every morning the mynah bird would perch on the window sill and call out to Liu Shan: "Good morning, Big Brother, good morning! The sun is up! Let's go, go, go!" Liu Shan would then rise and take the mynah bird to that day's work site.
Liu Shan and his mynah bird were an inseparable pair!
Liu Shan was hired to remodel the county magistrate's home. While up on a wall, Liu Shan discovered he had forgotten to bring a special horsehair brush. He told the mynah bird to fly back home and fetch, which the bird soon did. Then, when Liu Shan moved a bit too close to the edge of the wall, the mynah bird said, "Big Brother, take care! Big Brother, take care!"
The mynah bird was also popular with all the workers and craftsmen at the county magistrate's house, and how the bird loved the attention! The workers each took turns teaching the bird new words and songs.
All together Liu Shan, his fellow workers, and the mynah bird made up a happy, boisterous crew.
Now one day the county magistrate himself made a visit to the work site to see how his house was coming along. Liu Shan had just started the preliminary drawings for a fresco of the god of longevity upon one of the walls.
The county magistrate came over to see what Liu Shan was drawing.
"What's that supposed to be?" he asked, pointing with his nose.
"That's the god of longevity," replied Liu Shan.
Immediately the mynah bird flew down from some unseen perch.
"The god of longevity! The god of longevity!" the mynah bird chirped.
The county magistrate was delighted and stroked his long beard. "Whose bird is this?"
"It is mine," said Liu Shan.
The county magistrate stretched out his arm. "Come to me, my little friend! I shall give you something to eat." The bird landed on his arm, and off they went, the magistrate chuckling with joy, to give the mynah bird a snack.
The next day the county magistrate's attendant came up to Liu Shan. "I have been instructed by my master the county magistrate to take delivery of the mynah bird. In exchange my master is to pay you ten ounces of silver."
"Well, kindly instruct your master that my mynah bird is not for sale."
"Not for sale! Not for sale!" the mynah bird chimed in.
The attendant curled his lip, tittered a bit, and left.
That seemed to take care of that, and Liu Shan went back to work.
Then, around the time of the Mid-Autumn Moon Festival, Liu Shan came down with a sickness that prevented him from working. All he could do was borrow some money from the county magistrate, his salary, promising to repay him as soon as he was able.
Then, one straight month of illness became two, and two became three. Liu Shan would never be able to repay three months' wages . . .
By this time the house had been remodeled without Liu Shan's artistic touches. Upon completion of the work, the county magistrate arrived to tour his remodeled house. He came to the wall where the fresco of the god of longevity was supposed to be. The wall was blank. Liu Shan had been unable to finish the fresco, so the wall was just painted.
The county magistrate was livid.
He had Liu Shan arrested and dragged before him.
"Why, you filthy swindler!" the county magistrate said. "How dare you take my money and not do what you were hired to do!"
"I . . . I have been ill, Your Excellency . . ."
"'Ill' indeed! Give me back my five ounces of silver! Not only that, give me that mynah bird of yours!"
"Excellency, if it takes me all my life to repay my debt to you, I shall, but I am not giving my mynah bird away!"
The county magistrate had Liu Shan beaten and tossed into a jail cell.
Now the mynah bird had been away from home when Liu Shan was arrested. It flew back to an empty home, not knowing that Liu Shan couldn't, wouldn't be coming back. Soon, the bird tired of waiting for Liu Shan to return, so it just took off, hoping to find its master. It flew and flew all over the town, over all the roofs of homes, shops, inns, taverns.
Then, while resting on a branch, it turned its head towards a hole in the brick wall of a building, the town jail, and there, it spotted Liu Shan inside, sitting with his head in his bloodied hands in a cell. Closing its wings right against its body, it forced itself through the hole and into the jail cell.
"Mynah bird, my mynah bird!" cried Liu Shan. "You don't know what I have gone through because of you! Look what the magistrate has done to me. He has broken my fingers, one by one, beaten me and left me here--all because I would not give you up to him. You have been mine since you first hatched; I have raised and taken care of you. How could I ever let someone take you from me?"
"Wu, wu . . ." was all the mynah bird could say.
From that day on, the mynah bird would visit Liu Shan daily in his cell, chatting with him and trying to cheer him up. It was almost like old times again--the two of them together. However, there was a problem: the jailer happened to peek in on Liu Shan and saw the mynah bird there with him. The jailer then notified the county magistrate, who then came to the cell.
Seeing the magistrate, the bird immediately flew to a rafter.
"County magistrate!" cried the mynah bird. "You oppress the people! You'll never get me!"
The county magistrate gnashed his teeth in anger as he helplessly watched the bird go out the hole from which it had entered and fly off up into the sky.
The county magistrate sent out an order to all his men--"Bring me that mynah bird alive!" Soldiers and yamen guards then scoured the countryside and town searching for the mynah bird.
The mynah bird seemed to have disappeared.
Then, that same night, the mynah bird flew back to the cell to see its master. It once again made squeezed its way into the hole in the wall.
"Got you!" a voice cried.
A net dropped over the cell window and hole, and hidden guards rushed into the cell to trap the mynah bird now caught inside the jail wall.
Caged, the mynah bird was brought before the county magistrate.
"I have you now, mynah bird," he said. "I plan to roast and to eat you. What do you think of that?"
"You are a cannibal, a vampire!" chirped the mynah bird. "One day a homeless dog shall eat from your skull!"
"Take this thing away!" bellowed the county magistrate. "Take it away to the kitchen and let the cook prepare it!"
In the kitchen, the cook carefully plucked each of the mynah bird's feathers and put the naked little creature upon the chopping board. When the cook was distracted by the oil beginning to boil in the frying pan, the mynah bird quickly flapped its wings to fly away. It couldn't fly, of course, so it hopped off the chopping board and onto the floor.
The cook was just in time to see the mynah bird scurry away down into the drain.
Down, down into the drain went the mynah bird until it was able to find itself a little niche so that it wouldn't be washed away by the water surely to come. There it stayed until the beginning of spring, surviving on the bits of food washed down the drain with the garbage and dirty water. By this time its feathers had grown back.
And then came the day when no one was around in the kitchen. The mynah bird emerged from its hiding place, unfurled its wings, and flew out the window, to search again for Liu Shan.
Unknown, of course, to the mynah bird, Liu Shan had escaped from his jail cell and was now hiding deep in the mountains.
Meanwhile, the mynah bird flew around and around, looking for its master. In town some kind of celebration was taking place. Men were beating drums and cymbols, and crowds of people were milling about. The mynah bird flew to the roof of a building to watch all the bustling activity.
And there, below, was the county magistrate! What was he doing? He was entering the city god's temple to offer incense and prayers. There, before the statue of the city god, he lit his incense and knelt upon the floor to kowtow.
"If all those you have harmed come forward to testify about your corruption and abuse, woe unto you!"
Who said that? In the courtyard, there was just the county magistrate and the statue of the city god. The county magistrate looked around, sweated, and continued his prayers.
"Hear me speak! Admit your crimes, and I shall go easier on you. If you try to cover up all the evil you have done, you will have been better off being born as a dog!"
The county magistrate increased his kowtowing with a feverish pitch, banging his head upon the floor with the energy you'd use to grind up dried garlic with a mortar and pestle. The pain was awful, and he cried like a baby; however, the head-banging continued. Maybe, just maybe, if he prayed earnestly enough, the god would be satisfied . . .
"Come forward to admit your crimes and receive your punishment so that your burden can be lightened!"
Faster and faster did the county magistrate hit his head upon the floor!
"Do this now. First, in front of me, pluck out every hair on your face so that you can pass among the common people without distinction . . . "
Still on his knees, the county magistrate began pulling out all his whiskers until his aching face was a smooth as a baby's bottom.
"Second, kowtow 365 times before me now to learn about humility and to remind yourself never again to abuse the people!"
The county magistrate kowtowed another 365 times with such vigor he nearly upset the altar. He stood up, reeling, his head battered and bleeding.
He slowly staggered his way out the temple. Just as he reached the exit to the courtyard, a voice called out to him.
"Hee, hee! Magistrate, it is I!"
He swung around, nearly toppling over, grabbing onto a pillar for support. There, on a rafter, sat the mynah bird.
"Last year, you had my feathers plucked; this year, I have your beard plucked. Last year, you broke my master's body; this year, I break your piggish head! So long!"
The county magistrate watched the mynah bird fly away from the rafter, out of the temple and into the sky.
It finally dawned on him that the voice he had heard earlier was not the city god's but the mynah bird's; however, there was not a thing he could do about it.
Notes
from Jia & Sun, Zhongguo minjian gushixuan, Vol. 2, pp. 160-163. (For full citation, see 7/22/07.)
This is a very famous Han (the Chinese ethnic majority) folktale which is anthologized in Pu Songling's Strange Stories From a Chinese Studio. (A number of translations exist, including John Minford's English translation published by Penguin.) This story, collected during the Cultural Revolution, bears traces of proletarian revising in the increasingly sophisticated and politically conscious utterings of the mynah bird when it dupes the venal magistrate in the temple. I suspect the politicized language was added to make the story conform to the party line of that era.
In a land where beard growth is generally sparse, the possession of a beard, itself a symbol of masculinity, power, sagacity, etc., would be something of which to be proud. Hence, the loss of the beard, especially in which one painfully plucks one's own beard, would have to be extremely galling and demeaning.
Motifs: B211, "Animal uses human speech"; B211.3, "Talking bird"; J1117, "Animal as trickster"; J1118, "Clever bird"; J2465, "Disastrous following of instructions." In addition, the story has a variation of K1971, "Man hides behind statue and pretends to be god."
Every morning the mynah bird would perch on the window sill and call out to Liu Shan: "Good morning, Big Brother, good morning! The sun is up! Let's go, go, go!" Liu Shan would then rise and take the mynah bird to that day's work site.
Liu Shan and his mynah bird were an inseparable pair!
Liu Shan was hired to remodel the county magistrate's home. While up on a wall, Liu Shan discovered he had forgotten to bring a special horsehair brush. He told the mynah bird to fly back home and fetch, which the bird soon did. Then, when Liu Shan moved a bit too close to the edge of the wall, the mynah bird said, "Big Brother, take care! Big Brother, take care!"
The mynah bird was also popular with all the workers and craftsmen at the county magistrate's house, and how the bird loved the attention! The workers each took turns teaching the bird new words and songs.
All together Liu Shan, his fellow workers, and the mynah bird made up a happy, boisterous crew.
Now one day the county magistrate himself made a visit to the work site to see how his house was coming along. Liu Shan had just started the preliminary drawings for a fresco of the god of longevity upon one of the walls.
The county magistrate came over to see what Liu Shan was drawing.
"What's that supposed to be?" he asked, pointing with his nose.
"That's the god of longevity," replied Liu Shan.
Immediately the mynah bird flew down from some unseen perch.
"The god of longevity! The god of longevity!" the mynah bird chirped.
The county magistrate was delighted and stroked his long beard. "Whose bird is this?"
"It is mine," said Liu Shan.
The county magistrate stretched out his arm. "Come to me, my little friend! I shall give you something to eat." The bird landed on his arm, and off they went, the magistrate chuckling with joy, to give the mynah bird a snack.
The next day the county magistrate's attendant came up to Liu Shan. "I have been instructed by my master the county magistrate to take delivery of the mynah bird. In exchange my master is to pay you ten ounces of silver."
"Well, kindly instruct your master that my mynah bird is not for sale."
"Not for sale! Not for sale!" the mynah bird chimed in.
The attendant curled his lip, tittered a bit, and left.
That seemed to take care of that, and Liu Shan went back to work.
Then, around the time of the Mid-Autumn Moon Festival, Liu Shan came down with a sickness that prevented him from working. All he could do was borrow some money from the county magistrate, his salary, promising to repay him as soon as he was able.
Then, one straight month of illness became two, and two became three. Liu Shan would never be able to repay three months' wages . . .
By this time the house had been remodeled without Liu Shan's artistic touches. Upon completion of the work, the county magistrate arrived to tour his remodeled house. He came to the wall where the fresco of the god of longevity was supposed to be. The wall was blank. Liu Shan had been unable to finish the fresco, so the wall was just painted.
The county magistrate was livid.
He had Liu Shan arrested and dragged before him.
"Why, you filthy swindler!" the county magistrate said. "How dare you take my money and not do what you were hired to do!"
"I . . . I have been ill, Your Excellency . . ."
"'Ill' indeed! Give me back my five ounces of silver! Not only that, give me that mynah bird of yours!"
"Excellency, if it takes me all my life to repay my debt to you, I shall, but I am not giving my mynah bird away!"
The county magistrate had Liu Shan beaten and tossed into a jail cell.
Now the mynah bird had been away from home when Liu Shan was arrested. It flew back to an empty home, not knowing that Liu Shan couldn't, wouldn't be coming back. Soon, the bird tired of waiting for Liu Shan to return, so it just took off, hoping to find its master. It flew and flew all over the town, over all the roofs of homes, shops, inns, taverns.
Then, while resting on a branch, it turned its head towards a hole in the brick wall of a building, the town jail, and there, it spotted Liu Shan inside, sitting with his head in his bloodied hands in a cell. Closing its wings right against its body, it forced itself through the hole and into the jail cell.
"Mynah bird, my mynah bird!" cried Liu Shan. "You don't know what I have gone through because of you! Look what the magistrate has done to me. He has broken my fingers, one by one, beaten me and left me here--all because I would not give you up to him. You have been mine since you first hatched; I have raised and taken care of you. How could I ever let someone take you from me?"
"Wu, wu . . ." was all the mynah bird could say.
From that day on, the mynah bird would visit Liu Shan daily in his cell, chatting with him and trying to cheer him up. It was almost like old times again--the two of them together. However, there was a problem: the jailer happened to peek in on Liu Shan and saw the mynah bird there with him. The jailer then notified the county magistrate, who then came to the cell.
Seeing the magistrate, the bird immediately flew to a rafter.
"County magistrate!" cried the mynah bird. "You oppress the people! You'll never get me!"
The county magistrate gnashed his teeth in anger as he helplessly watched the bird go out the hole from which it had entered and fly off up into the sky.
The county magistrate sent out an order to all his men--"Bring me that mynah bird alive!" Soldiers and yamen guards then scoured the countryside and town searching for the mynah bird.
The mynah bird seemed to have disappeared.
Then, that same night, the mynah bird flew back to the cell to see its master. It once again made squeezed its way into the hole in the wall.
"Got you!" a voice cried.
A net dropped over the cell window and hole, and hidden guards rushed into the cell to trap the mynah bird now caught inside the jail wall.
Caged, the mynah bird was brought before the county magistrate.
"I have you now, mynah bird," he said. "I plan to roast and to eat you. What do you think of that?"
"You are a cannibal, a vampire!" chirped the mynah bird. "One day a homeless dog shall eat from your skull!"
"Take this thing away!" bellowed the county magistrate. "Take it away to the kitchen and let the cook prepare it!"
In the kitchen, the cook carefully plucked each of the mynah bird's feathers and put the naked little creature upon the chopping board. When the cook was distracted by the oil beginning to boil in the frying pan, the mynah bird quickly flapped its wings to fly away. It couldn't fly, of course, so it hopped off the chopping board and onto the floor.
The cook was just in time to see the mynah bird scurry away down into the drain.
Down, down into the drain went the mynah bird until it was able to find itself a little niche so that it wouldn't be washed away by the water surely to come. There it stayed until the beginning of spring, surviving on the bits of food washed down the drain with the garbage and dirty water. By this time its feathers had grown back.
And then came the day when no one was around in the kitchen. The mynah bird emerged from its hiding place, unfurled its wings, and flew out the window, to search again for Liu Shan.
Unknown, of course, to the mynah bird, Liu Shan had escaped from his jail cell and was now hiding deep in the mountains.
Meanwhile, the mynah bird flew around and around, looking for its master. In town some kind of celebration was taking place. Men were beating drums and cymbols, and crowds of people were milling about. The mynah bird flew to the roof of a building to watch all the bustling activity.
And there, below, was the county magistrate! What was he doing? He was entering the city god's temple to offer incense and prayers. There, before the statue of the city god, he lit his incense and knelt upon the floor to kowtow.
"If all those you have harmed come forward to testify about your corruption and abuse, woe unto you!"
Who said that? In the courtyard, there was just the county magistrate and the statue of the city god. The county magistrate looked around, sweated, and continued his prayers.
"Hear me speak! Admit your crimes, and I shall go easier on you. If you try to cover up all the evil you have done, you will have been better off being born as a dog!"
The county magistrate increased his kowtowing with a feverish pitch, banging his head upon the floor with the energy you'd use to grind up dried garlic with a mortar and pestle. The pain was awful, and he cried like a baby; however, the head-banging continued. Maybe, just maybe, if he prayed earnestly enough, the god would be satisfied . . .
"Come forward to admit your crimes and receive your punishment so that your burden can be lightened!"
Faster and faster did the county magistrate hit his head upon the floor!
"Do this now. First, in front of me, pluck out every hair on your face so that you can pass among the common people without distinction . . . "
Still on his knees, the county magistrate began pulling out all his whiskers until his aching face was a smooth as a baby's bottom.
"Second, kowtow 365 times before me now to learn about humility and to remind yourself never again to abuse the people!"
The county magistrate kowtowed another 365 times with such vigor he nearly upset the altar. He stood up, reeling, his head battered and bleeding.
He slowly staggered his way out the temple. Just as he reached the exit to the courtyard, a voice called out to him.
"Hee, hee! Magistrate, it is I!"
He swung around, nearly toppling over, grabbing onto a pillar for support. There, on a rafter, sat the mynah bird.
"Last year, you had my feathers plucked; this year, I have your beard plucked. Last year, you broke my master's body; this year, I break your piggish head! So long!"
The county magistrate watched the mynah bird fly away from the rafter, out of the temple and into the sky.
It finally dawned on him that the voice he had heard earlier was not the city god's but the mynah bird's; however, there was not a thing he could do about it.
Notes
from Jia & Sun, Zhongguo minjian gushixuan, Vol. 2, pp. 160-163. (For full citation, see 7/22/07.)
This is a very famous Han (the Chinese ethnic majority) folktale which is anthologized in Pu Songling's Strange Stories From a Chinese Studio. (A number of translations exist, including John Minford's English translation published by Penguin.) This story, collected during the Cultural Revolution, bears traces of proletarian revising in the increasingly sophisticated and politically conscious utterings of the mynah bird when it dupes the venal magistrate in the temple. I suspect the politicized language was added to make the story conform to the party line of that era.
In a land where beard growth is generally sparse, the possession of a beard, itself a symbol of masculinity, power, sagacity, etc., would be something of which to be proud. Hence, the loss of the beard, especially in which one painfully plucks one's own beard, would have to be extremely galling and demeaning.
Motifs: B211, "Animal uses human speech"; B211.3, "Talking bird"; J1117, "Animal as trickster"; J1118, "Clever bird"; J2465, "Disastrous following of instructions." In addition, the story has a variation of K1971, "Man hides behind statue and pretends to be god."
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