Author Archives: Alexandra Pillsbury

黄仙” (Huáng Xiān) Beijing weasel

AGE: 55
Date_of_performance: May 1, 2025
Language: Mandarin Chinese
Nationality: Canadian
Occupation: Editor
Primary Language: English
Residence: Toronto, Canada (formerly lived in Beijing, China for 20 years)

Folklore Explanation:
“When we were living in Beijing, we started hearing stories about something called ‘黄仙’—the weasel spirit. It wasn’t something you’d see in tourist guides or museums. It came up more when you talked to older locals or cab drivers, or if you spent time in the older hutongs. Apparently, weasels—especially yellow ones—were believed to have spiritual power. People said they could turn into humans or possess people, especially if you disturbed them or disrespected their territory.

There was this kind of unspoken rule about not messing with weasels. If one came into your house, you were supposed to leave it alone, maybe even light incense. It wasn’t fear, exactly—more like respect. A lot of people referred to them as one of the ‘Five Immortals,’ and they’d warn you that strange things might happen if you upset them. It was never presented as superstition so much as something you just knew not to challenge. Like, don’t risk it. It made the city feel layered—modern on the surface, but still holding onto these old beliefs right underneath.”

Analysis:
The legend of 黄仙 (Huáng Xiān), or the Yellow Weasel Spirit, is part of a broader category of animistic and transformation folklore rooted in Daoist cosmology and folk religious beliefs. In Northern China—especially in and around Beijing—黄仙 is one of the “Five Immortals” (五大仙), a group of animal spirits (fox, weasel, hedgehog, snake, and rat) believed to possess supernatural powers, often associated with both protection and trickery.

These spirits occupy a liminal role in Chinese folklore: part deity, part ghost, part moral enforcer. The belief in Huáng Xiān is a form of vernacular belief folklore, transmitted primarily through oral storytelling, neighborhood custom, and superstitious behavior rather than written texts or organized religion. It reflects a blend of animism, moral caution, and the uncanny, often surfacing in everyday life situations—someone’s illness, odd behavior, or even unexplained luck—providing a framework for interpreting the unknown. Though not officially recognized in modern state narratives, it continues to persist in urban folklore, especially in areas with a strong connection to traditional community life.

The Legend of the Lost Canoe

Title: The Legend of the Lost Canoe

AGE: 52
Date_of_performance: May 5, 2025
Language: English
Nationality: Canadian
Occupation: retail worker
Primary Language: English
Residence: Toronto, Canada

Folklore Explanation :
“There’s a local legend around the Toronto waterfront called the Lost Canoe. I first heard about it when we moved here—someone mentioned it on a ferry ride out to the Islands. The story goes that people have seen a canoe gliding silently over Lake Ontario late at night, with no paddler in sight. It’s supposed to be the spirit of a warrior who went missing during a storm centuries ago. Some say he was trying to cross the lake during a battle or to deliver a message and never made it.

What makes it stick is how eerie it feels when you’re out by the water at night—especially in the fall or early spring when there aren’t many people around. You can imagine something like that being true. It’s not something people talk about often, but it comes up once in a while—especially among boaters or people who’ve lived in the area a long time. Whether you believe it or not, it gives the lake a kind of presence. Like it remembers.”

Analysis:
The Legend of the Lost Canoe is an example of local supernatural legend tied to place-based folklore in the Toronto region, particularly around Lake Ontario and the Toronto Islands. While not part of institutional Indigenous oral history, it draws from widespread Indigenous narrative motifs—such as lost warriors, sacred journeys, and spirits of the water—though its current form is shaped more by settler storytelling and urban folklore transmission.

This legend falls into the category of contemporary legend or ghost story, and it is typically spread orally, through casual conversation, local tours, and boater subculture. It serves as a way to mark space with memory, especially in areas that are otherwise seen as recreational or modernized. The legend reflects a broader pattern in waterfront communities where lakes and rivers are attributed with spiritual significance and residual memory, giving the environment an emotional and historical depth. In this way, the Lost Canoe becomes part of Toronto’s vernacular landscape mythology—not formally archived, but deeply felt by those who know it.

莲花童子哪吒》 (Liánhuā Tóngzǐ Nézhā) Lotus child

Title: 莲花童子哪吒 (Liánhuā Tóngzǐ Nézhā / The Lotus Child Nezha)

AGE: 18
Date_of_performance: May 6, 2025
Language: Mandarin Chinese
Nationality: Canadian
Occupation: Student
Primary Language: English
Residence: Toronto, Canada (grew up in Beijing, China)

Folklore Explanation:
“We grew up with Nezha—like, everywhere. There were picture books, cartoons, comics, and even little plush toys of him in stores. In the early 2000s in Beijing, you couldn’t walk through a stationery shop or watch Saturday morning TV without seeing him. I remember one of the shows we watched was 哪吒传奇 (Nezha Chuanqi)—he had the red scarf, the wind fire wheels, the bracelets, and that tough, rebellious attitude. He wasn’t sweet or soft—he was fierce, kind of angry, and always fighting demons or standing up to authority.

In the story, he’s born out of a lotus flower after staying in the womb for years, and he ends up sacrificing himself to save his family and people. Later, he’s brought back to life by his master and becomes even stronger. It’s dramatic, but as a kid, you just loved how powerful he was. He was a hero, but a kid like us. We’d read Nezha stories in schoolbooks and retell them to each other during breaks. For us, it wasn’t just mythology—it was childhood. It felt like he belonged to us.”

Analysis:
Nezha, especially in the form of 莲花童子哪吒 (Liánhuā Tóngzǐ Nézhā), is a major figure in Chinese mythological folklore, originally appearing in the Ming dynasty novel 《封神演义》 (Fengshen Yanyi / The Investiture of the Gods). He is considered a deified folk hero, embodying themes of rebellion, self-sacrifice, filial duty, and cosmic justice. As a mythic narrative figure, Nezha spans multiple folklore types: religious folklore (as a Taoist deity), narrative epic, and child-centered popular mythology.

In early-2000s, Nezha was widely disseminated through state-supported children’s media, including the 2003 animated series 哪吒传奇, which cemented his image among a new generation. His story also spread through school curricula, children’s books, toys, and televised retellings, making him an example of institutionalized folklore adapted for mass cultural consumption. While rooted in ancient texts and temple traditions, Nezha’s modern image has been reshaped into a youth empowerment symbol, often emphasizing themes of resistance to unjust power. His continued presence in toys, media, and moral storytelling illustrates the adaptability of mythic folklore in contemporary urban life and popular culture.

The Wendigo (Anishinaabe/Algonquian Legend)

Title: The Wendigo (Anishinaabe/Algonquian Legend)

AGE: 18
Date_of_performance: May 1, 2025
Language: English
Nationality: Canadian
Occupation: Student
Primary Language: English
Residence: Toronto, Canada

Folklore Explanation:
“We learned about the Wendigo in high school—it came up in our Canadian literature and history classes. The story really stuck with me. It’s this creature from Anishinaabe and other Algonquian Indigenous traditions, and it represents hunger and greed taken to an extreme. The Wendigo is said to be a spirit that possesses people during harsh winters, especially when they’re starving. It turns them into monsters—cannibals, basically. Some versions say it used to be human and was cursed, others say it’s always been a spirit.

The teachers were careful about how they presented it—not just as a scary myth, but as something sacred that comes from a specific worldview. It was treated with respect. What really got to me was how it wasn’t just a horror story—it was also a warning. A moral. It shows what happens when you let desperation or selfishness take over. Some of the other kids thought it was just creepy, but I thought it was way deeper than that.”

Analysis:
The Wendigo is a powerful example of Indigenous spiritual and moral folklore, primarily found in Anishinaabe, Cree, and other Algonquian-speaking nations. It functions as both a mythological being and a cautionary symbol, representing excess, greed, and the breakdown of social and natural order. Stories of the Wendigo are traditionally transmitted orally, as part of sacred storytelling practices that blend spiritual knowledge, survival ethics, and moral education.

It is classified as narrative folklore, but also carries characteristics of belief folklore, particularly in the way it intersects with historical experiences of famine, colonial disruption, and environmental change. In contemporary Canadian society, Wendigo stories have also entered literary and pop culture, sometimes problematically removed from their original context. However, within Indigenous communities, the figure remains a respected and often feared presence—not merely a monster, but a reflection of imbalance between humans, nature, and spirit. Its continued telling reinforces cultural identity, ethical restraint, and intergenerational knowledge.

monkey king 孙悟空 (Sūn Wùkōng)

Title: 孙悟空 (Sūn Wùkōng / The Monkey King)

AGE: 54
Date_of_performance: May 1, 2025
Language: Mandarin Chinese
Nationality: Canadian
Occupation: Retail worker and teacher
Primary Language: English
Residence: Toronto, Canada (lived in Beijing, China for 20 years)

Folklore Explanation:
“The Monkey King was everywhere when you were growing up in Beijing. You couldn’t walk into a bookstore or turn on the TV without seeing some version of him. The classic Journey to the West was part of school curriculum, of course, but it wasn’t just that—there were cartoons, puppet shows, live-action remakes, even branded snacks with Sun Wukong on them. He’s clever, a bit of a troublemaker, but always brave. Kids loved him. You and your sister had picture books with him flying around on clouds, fighting demons, and transforming into animals.

One of the most surreal experiences was getting to visit the film set for one of the big-budget remakes. That was the 2015 version, the one with Fan Bingbing. My friend Li—she translated some of Ai Weiwei’s work—her husband, Cheang Pou-soi, directed it. She invited us out to the set one day. You probably don’t remember all the details, but it was massive. Elaborate costumes, green screens, big lighting rigs—it was a whole operation. Seeing this ancient story being brought to life with modern technology really showed how deeply rooted the Monkey King is in Chinese culture, but also how adaptable he is. He’s survived for centuries, and he keeps changing with the times.”

Analysis:
Sun Wukong, or the Monkey King, is a central figure in Chinese mythological and narrative folklore, best known from the 16th-century novel Journey to the West (西游记). His character draws from Daoist and Buddhist cosmology, embodying themes of rebellion, transformation, and eventual enlightenment. He is classified as a heroic trickster figure, blending moral lessons with comedic mischief, and has been used historically to explore tensions between individuality and authority.

The Monkey King’s story has been transmitted through oral storytelling, written epic, shadow puppetry, television, and cinema, making him one of the most recognized figures in Chinese folklore. His presence in modern media—especially through state-supported educational programming and commercial films like The Monkey King (2015)—shows the way traditional folklore evolves into mass-mediated folklore, reaching audiences across generations and geographies. In the context of childhood in early-2000s Beijing, Sun Wukong functioned both as a cultural icon and a moral exemplar—accessible through entertainment, but still rooted in complex spiritual and historical traditions.