in the Monkey myth came during the 1960s with the Japanese series Monkey Magic. This was truly weird, with a middle aged woman playing Buddha, and a beautiful young actress, Matsuko Natsume, playing the young monk. Thirty odd episodes were produced, with little reference to the original book. It was based on the original characters, of course, and brought out their characteristics very well: the monk with a mission, the restless, rebellious monkey, the easy going, gluttonous, lustful pig, and the mournful, pessimistic sand spirit. One of the many interpretations of the book is that the many arguments and disputes between these four are in fact an inner dialogue, as we all wrestle with the rebellious, restless, gluttonous, lustful, mournful, and pessimistic personal demons, all of which are somehow kept in check by the higher aspirations of the soul. Freud would have said something about id, ego, and super-ego. This can easily be read into the pseudo-mystical comments threaded through Monkey Magic. The dialogue was dubbed by the BBC in a faux Japanese accent. It became somewhat of a cult, and still has many adherents. A sad postscript is that Matsuko Natsume, who was twenty-one when the series was made, and whose character is constantly reflecting on the transitory nature of life, died of leukaemia at the age of twenty-seven.
Since then there have been musicals, children’s theatre versions, a full and serious version produced in China (which stays close to the original book), innumerable manga adaptations, video games, and a number of movies and TV series, mainly from Hong Kong. Each of these reflected the tastes of the day. If Richard’s translation reflects the general cultural milieu of the late nineteenth century, both in China and Victorian England, and if Waley’s translation reflects the taste of the urbane British reader of the thirties, we can say that the Japanese series reflects the good humored innocence of the 1960s and the various manga, TV, and film versions of the late twentieth century reflect the technology, and in many cases the taste for violence, of that time.
The latest adaptation is The Forbidden Kingdom, which comes at a time when Chinese gongfu movies have now become part of Western popular culture, thanks to the pioneering work of Bruce Lee; when Chinese movies of a mystical turn are well known because of A Touch of Zen and the like, and when traditional wuxia (knight errant) and gongfu (martial arts, with a touch of magic) stories like Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon have made this aspect of Chinese culture well known in the West. Outside the Chinese cultural sphere, The Lord of the Rings was one of the most popular works of literature of the late twentieth century, and the movie version of the early twenty-first century made it part of the consciousness of the general movie fan, whether they had read the book or not. The idea of the quest through dangerous lands full of demons and ogres, of friendly and unfriendly kingdoms, of determination, fear, courage, and the rest has become a resonant theme in Western culture. It is almost as if the traditional interpretation of The Journey to the West is reflected in the mood of the early twentieth-first century, in a new idiom.
Timothy Richard was famous in his day, but has been more or less forgotten by the currents of history. His translation, made with such hopes, may never have had much of a circulation, and was superseded by that of Arthur Waley and more recently by the full translations of Jenner and Yu. In this re-edition of Richard’s translation, some of the shorter chapters have been omitted, and many of them have been linked together in what is more or less a coherent sequence of events. Some of the more far fetched translations and comments have been excised, but the general flavor of Richard’s translation remains more or less intact. We do not know the process by which Richard made his translation, but I strongly suspect a Chinese colleague read it to him, explaining and commenting along the way, and Richard took it down quickly in English, which he later revised. It cannot really be considered a translation in the modern sense of the word. Anthony Yu, in his preface to his full and scholarly translation of The Monkey King’s Amazing Adventures, comments, “Two early versions in English (Timothy Richard, A Mission to Heaven, 1913, and Helen M. Hayes, The Buddhist’s Pilgrim’s Progress, 1930) were no more than brief paraphrases and adaptations.” But few people have the time or energy to wade through 1340 pages, unless they are students of Chinese literature and use the translations as a crib to read the original.
Richard’s translation is much more than a brief paraphrase: it is a very readable version and is quite close to the original, though often in an abbreviated and summarised form. It has its quaint and quirky side, but that adds to its charm. It is an auspicious time to rescue it from oblivion and re-issue it for another lease of life. The passage of Xuanzang’s story has indeed gone through seventy-two transformations. It has acquired monkeys and pigs, has been reinterpreted in Peking Opera, in musicals, in movies, in manga, and most recently as a martial arts epic. Somewhere in this series lies the translation by Timothy Richard. Both Xuanzang and Richard would be amazed, but pleased, to see that the transformations continue while the essence remains.
Daniel Kane
Professor of Chinese at Macquarie
University, Sydney
1
Monkey Gets Restless and Seeks Immortality
Chaos reigned ere order came,
Darkness wrapped the world around,
When at last Pangu appeared.
Light and bright he placed above,
Heavy things he ranged below.
Living creatures he called forth,
All things needed he supplied.
Creation’s wonders if you’d see,
Read this journey to the sky.
WE HAVE HEARD THAT THE AGE OF THE WORLD is 129,600 years for one kalpa, that these kalpas are divided into 12 periods, just as the day and night are divided into 12 Chinese hours, and each period is 10,800 years, or two half periods of 5,400 each. Speaking of the divisions in a day, there are twelve of 2 hours each, from midnight to midnight. But if we speak of the division of the kalpas, at the end of each there is a return to chaos and darkness. After the first period of 5,400 years, everything should be dark like night without any living thing. This state is called chaos. After the second period of 5,400 years comes the era which gradually begins to open up with light. Hence the saying, “The winter solstice is the re-beginning.” But Nature never changes. Everything is dead. Soon after, life again begins. After a third period of 5,400 years, the lighter parts of matter rise up, forming the sun and moon and stars. Towards the end of a fourth period of 5,400 years, the solid parts combine. The Book of Changes says, “How great is Heaven, how perfect is the Earth producing all things. The Earth henceforth becomes solid.” After a fifth period of 5,400 years more, all the solids resolve into water and fire, into mountains, rocks, and earth. After a sixth period of 5,400 years, at the end of another kalpa, all things are reproduced again. Heavenly influences descend and earthly influences rise, and by the union of the two, all living things are produced. After the seventh period of 5,400 years, men and birds and beasts are produced. Thus we have the three great powers, Heaven, Earth, and Man. The Three Emperors came forth to rule the earth and the Five Sovereigns fixed the social relations.
Then the world was divided into four great continents, and far beyond the ocean there was a country called Aolai. Near this country was a sea, and in the sea there was a famous mountain called the Flower and Fruit Mountain. This was the greatest of all the mountains of the world, the home of the mighty dragon gods. On the top of that mountain there was a living stone, 36 feet 5 inches high, and divided into 365 degrees like the heavens, and it was 24 feet in circumference, from which went forth 24 different influences. Above it there were 9 openings and 8 holes, according to the 9 mansions and 8 diagrams of the Book of Changes. Since the beginning of time it had been animated by the finest forces of heaven and earth. Sun and moon had long influenced it, so that it had an internal force, as a child in its mother’s womb. On a certain day it split open and produced a stone egg, round like a big ball. After exposure to the air, this was transformed into a stone monkey with the five senses of the body complete, and able to creep and run. It turned and bowed to the four points of the compass, and its eyes glowed like burning light, the rays of which reached the stars, astonishing the dwellers in heaven, even reaching the Jade Emperor in his golden palace in the clouds, and the inner palace where the heavenly ministers were gathered.
They saw the light burning