Showing posts with label chinese literature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label chinese literature. Show all posts

Thursday, April 4, 2013

The Mythopoeic Fantasy of Journey to the West: China’s Monomyth - Part II


(The following is the second part of the essay "The Mythopoeic Fantasy of Journey to the West: China’s Monomyth".  Part I can be found here.)

Campbell, an advocate of Freudian symbolism and Jungian archetypal theory, believed that myth, folktales, legends, and all other manner of lore and tales are the poetics of the imagination, “the secret opening through which the inexhaustible energies of the cosmos pour into human cultural manifestation” as he states in his treatise on the subject, The Hero with a Thousand Faces (3).  Produced naturally by the psyche, symbols and archetypes reveal themselves in the colors of the culture they are associated with, customs, dance, music, visual arts, and stories included.  Greek mythology remains a unique sub-genre of stories, for example, but if one strikes at their core they will find elements, symbolism, and archetypal patterns common to world mythology.  At this degree of commonality, myth and mythology are thus creative manifestations of humankind’s universal need to explain psychological, social, cosmological, and spiritual realities, and as such “[h]umanity lives in one shape-shifting yet marvelously constant story.”
The constancy of this “one story” cannot be underestimated, according to Campbell, who writes it is “a magnification of the formula represented in the rites of passage: separation-initiation-return: which might be named the nuclear unit of the monomyth.” (Hero 30).  While he extends his argument to elaborate upon seventeen individual steps, the first phase, “separation or departure,” is the severance of the hero from their relative group, or as he states it in more psychological terms: “the retreat from the world scene of secondary effects to those causal zones of the psyche where the difficulties really reside.” (30). Taken from their zone of comfort, the individual faces the unknown within themselves.  The second phase, “the trials and victories of initiation,” is the struggles of the hero in their new found predicament and subsequent triumph over the problems encountered: the “clarification” and  “eradication” of difficulties.  Facing the unfamiliar, the individual is thus tested and succeeds in overcoming the difficulties.  The third phase, “the return and reintegration with society,” is the transfigured return of the hero to his respective group and his acceptance by them.  Thus in Jungian terms, the result can be expressed as “individuation,” or the individual’s “break through to the undistorted, direct experience and assimilation of […] archetypal images”: the universal human (Hero 17).  Campbell sums up the monomyth with the following:

The Mythopoeic Fantasy of Journey to the West: China’s Monomyth - Part I


With thousands of years of recorded history and a rich and varied literary tradition which draws upon one of the world’s longest evolving written languages, it is no surprise myth and fantasy are integral parts of Chinese literature, past and present.  From this tradition, four works have been chosen as the ‘four greatest novels in Chinese history.’  It is interesting to note that of these epic-length novels, one contains light elements of Daoist fantasy—more mystical than supernatural—while two others use stronger elements: the motifs of super-human ability, pre-cognition, and supernatural connection with nature are present in varying degrees throughout the works.  Relatively unknown to the West, the fourth novel, Journey to the West, is, however, a ‘full blown fantasy of epic proportions’ in the most literal sense of the expression.  Suffuse with elements of animal fantasy, ghost fantasy, magic-adventure fantasy, and the strongest of all, mythopoeic fantasy, it is arguably one of the greatest fantasy novels ever written.
First recorded on paper in the 16th century, there is much confusion as to who the real author is, consensus falling upon Wu Chengen for lack of decisive proof.  Based on the true story of a Chinese monk who was sent by the emperor to India to retrieve Buddhist sutras, Journey to the West is the literary result of generations of street corner historical recollection, legend building, and tale swapping—“a string of stories that developed over many hundreds of years,” sparking the confusion over authorship (Journey 2322).  In a country prizing their street corner raconteurs, artistic license in making each episode more fantastic than the next became the norm, and the story became a “collective creation by professional entertainers” (2332).  Taels of silver traded for dexterity of tongue, it is perhaps no surprise the centuries yielded a story 100 chapters long and more than 2,300 pages (W.J.F. Jenner’s English translation).  Passed on orally in a predominantly illiterate population, it has since enjoyed immense popularity by the educated in written form as well.  Following the influx of Western technology in China’s post-Mao years, a lengthy television series was filmed.  Adhering closely to the book, it has maintained its charm and continues to win the hearts of the Chinese, the series in heavy rotation on several television stations at all times of the year.  There is not a person in China who does not know the name of the main character, Sun Wukong.

Monday, April 1, 2013

Review of "Journey to the West" by Wu Cheng’en



One of the four great novels of Chinese classical literature, Journey to the West is also one of the greatest fantasy novels the world has ever known.  The story rooted in real history, promulgated and perfected on street corners, and finally put into written form sometime in the 16th century by Wu Cheng’en, the novel is as much a cultural record of Buddhism’s transition to China as it is a delightful adventure of humorous and imagination proportions impossible to conceive in the West.  There is simply no comparing Sun Wukong, the Monkey King.

Journey to the West is the story of the monk Tang Sanzang, his small band of loyal disciples, and the journey the group takes to Vulture Peak in India to obtain a copy of the holy Buddhist sutras for the Chinese emperor.  This premise is only an umpteenth fraction of the story, however.  Implied in the title, it’s the getting there that’s of utmost importance.  One adventure happening after another, the five “man" band of Sanzang, Sun Wukong, Pig, Friar Sand, and their faithful horse get into scrapes and escapades like no other.   

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Review of "Outlaws of the Marsh" by Shi Nai’an & Luo Guangshuo



There are four “novels” in the Chinese canon that are considered the greatest of all time.  Even the devastating Cultural Revolution of the 1970s unable to shake cultural perception of their importance, Shi Naian and Luo Guanzhong’s 14th century(ish) Outlaws of the Marsh, or as it is known in other translations, The Water Margin, Men of the Marshes, or The Marshes of Mt. Liang, is one of the four.  Though technically a work of historical fantasy given the parallels to factual Song dynasty events and “super-hero” powers many of the outlaws possess, the book is better classified as a work of social commentary given the political and social context, not to mention denouement.  Considered a juxtaposition to another of the canonical works, Chinese people say: “The Three Kingdoms should not be read by the old, and Outlaws of the Marsh should not be read by the young.”   It took me years of thought to realize why, but I finally did.

Spanning more than 2,500 pages (yes, 2,500), Outlaws of the Marsh is the story of Song Jiang and the rise and fall of the band he unites to fight against a corrupt government.  Bearing some similarity to the legend of Robin Hood, the first half of Outlaws relates how 108 men come together, fighting off government troops who seek to infiltrate and destroy their mountain-marsh stronghold.  Each of the men having his own history and entry point into the group, Shi goes into varying levels of detail describing the motley collection and the fantastic skill each possesses.  Dai Zong for example, is able to run nine times faster than the average man, Wu Song is strong enough to kill a tiger with his bare hands, and perhaps the most enjoyable Li Kui, the human Tasmanian Devil, flies in to a rage at the slightest provocation, but always remains loyal to the cause.