Author Archives: Dylan Phung

The myth of Chang’e

Background:

L. is a 19-year-old Chinese-American college student currently studying in Los Angeles, California. He grew up his whole life in the D.C., Maryland, Virginia Area, colloquially known as the DMV Area, and as such, feels connected to the local east coast culture. He attributes his connection to his Chinese culture through his family, not so much Chinese media.

Context:

This myth in Chinese folklore and culture serves to explain why the moon exists and why specifically it floats above us all. It involves human conflict and celestial powers with a recurring but never fully complete end to the story.

Main piece: 

Q: “Can you tell me again about Chang’e?”

A: “Chang’e is the moon goddess of China, but once upon a time, she was a commoner married to Hou Yi the legendary archer. When Hou Yi leaves home, he leaves his magic immortality pills at home with her. People got wind of it, and everyone wanted to become immortal, so they went after Chang’e and the immortality pills. In order to protect the immortality pills and keep them safe, she took them and started running. She kept on running and running and running. But one day, they finally caught up to her at a mountain’s edge, and she couldn’t run or escape. She was like ‘you’ll never catch me alive or these pills’ so she took the pills. She took one, but of course there was still one left, so she took it too. And then she started floating, higher and higher and higher, out of reach of the bad guys. She floated all the way to the moon where she became the moon goddess. Up in the moon, she made a jade palace and found the white rabbit to keep her company. Every so often based on the lunar calendar, she meets her husband Hou Yi again and they reunite before they are separated again.”

Analysis:

Using Levi Strauss’s theory of paradigmatic structuralism, the creation myth of Chang’e can be analyzed according to his framework. In his framework, like language, myth is a semiotic system, a system of signs, a series of symbols, able to be decoded. Furthermore, all humans think in binaries and key binary oppositions where in these common patterns of human thought, we can find shared meaning across myth. The binary oppositions in the myth of Chang’e include human versus celestial, day versus night, and greed versus selflessness. Chang’e who was once just a normal commoner ascended to celestial status after taking both magic immortality pills, crossing the border between human and celestial. Furthermore, as the moon goddess, she represents the antithesis of the sentient sun that Hou Yi mercifully spared in his quest to save the people of China. Lastly, the greed she was forced to commit by taking both immortality pills forever separated her from the human world—an everlasting consequence of the people’s treacherous lack of selflessness toward her and Hou Yi. These binary oppositions contribute to how the myth is understood today by in-group identifiers like L. and how it presents similar parallels in shared meaning to other creation myths like it.

낮말은 새가 듣고 밤말은 쥐가 듣는다 – Birds listen to morning/day words. Rats listen to night words.

Background:

J. is a 20-year-old Korean-American college student currently studying in Los Angeles, California. She grew up her whole life in Alexandria, a suburban city in northern Virginia near Washington DC. She attributes her connection to her Korean culture through her family and regular engagement with Korean media.

Context:

This proverb can be used by anyone but is usually given from a parent to a child or from a wiser, older figure to a more naive, younger one in Korean language and culture. For J. she heard this proverb from her mom whenever she started to talk negatively about someone else.

Main Piece:

“낮말은 새가 듣고 밤말은 쥐가 듣는다”

Translation: “Birds listen to morning/day words. Rats listen to night words.”

Analysis:

This proverb serves as a premonition for those having in-group identification with Korean language and culture. While the animal-related translation does not necessarily make literal sense, it carries implied meaning behind it. Essentially, it implies that whenever or wherever you are, you should be careful about who you talk about because you might inadvertently be overheard by someone. Birds and rats are metaphorically likened to human listeners without explicit mention that they are so. The juxtaposition between opposites of day and night also lends poetic connotations to the phrase when spoken. This phrase is used as a warning for people to be careful about talking bad about others and to never be sure who could be eavesdropping—a virtually universally applicable mantra now conveyed proverbially through this piece of Korean folklore. The typical verbal deliverance of this proverb from an older, wiser figure to a younger, more naive one therefore often carries authority with it when performed.

The legend behind zongzi

Background:

L. is a 19-year-old Chinese-American college student currently studying in Los Angeles, California. He grew up his whole life in the D.C., Maryland, Virginia Area, colloquially known as the DMV Area, and as such, feels connected to the local east coast culture. He attributes his connection to his Chinese culture through his family, not so much Chinese media.

Context:

This legend in Chinese folklore and culture serves to explain why a certain food
(zongzi) dating from long ago is still eaten so prominently today. It involves human conflict and unique usage of the zongzi with a recurring but never fully complete end to the story.

Main piece: 

Q: “Can you tell me more about the legend behind zongzi?”

A: “Alright, zongzi are wrapped up in banana leaves and made of sticky rice with filling in the middle like meat, mushrooms, and salted egg mixed in together along with peanuts and other beans too. They’re wrapped into the shape of a triangular pyramid. The reason why they started is according to Chinese legend, there used to be a famous Chinese poet, scholar, and government politician who lived a long time ago during the warring states period. So he was very respected, very wise, and everybody loved him, but unfortunately, the court did not because while he had the best interests of the people at heart, they did not and just wanted to fill their pockets. The court officials slandered him and decided to banish him. Now that he was exiled, the court made more and more stupid decisions as he was forced to watch from afar. Seeing this, he felt so sad and decided to end it all by killing himself. He jumped into a river and drowned, sunk beneath the waves. But everybody loved him and wanted to keep his body safe, so they tossed zongzi into the river so the fish would eat those instead of his body. As long as the fish are fed with zongzi, his body will be safe in the riverbed. That is why people today eat zongzi.”

Analysis:

This story behind the zongzi cultural food item can be categorized as a legend within the context of folklore studies because there is understood truth value to its real world history. The warring states period was a formative era in ancient Chinese history, so it is natural that folk legends propagated from it to this day. While not exactly a myth, this legend through the lens of Levi-Strauss’s paradigmatic structuralism can help to uncover the key binary oppositions present throughout the story. Some of these key binary oppositions include individualism versus collectivism and hope versus surrender. Being a man of the people, the protagonist of this legend embodied collectivism and was diametrically opposed to the other greedy officials who represented the flip side of individualism. However, despite his upstanding character, eventually he lost all hope of enacting lasting reform and so, committed suicide as an ultimate act of surrender. Even after this, his supporters sought to preserve his body from being desecrated by the fish, demonstrating their hope to continue championing their cause even after their leader had fallen.

Annotation:

For another version collected by a Chinese scholar, see 

Jennifer Lim. (1996). Zongzi and Its Story. Women of China, 5, 52–52.

Heungbu and Nolbu

Background:

J. is a 20-year-old Korean-American college student currently studying in Los Angeles, California. She grew up her whole life in Alexandria, a suburban city in northern Virginia near Washington DC. She attributes her connection to her Korean culture through her family and regular engagement with Korean media.

Context: This Korean folk tale (märchen) is often told by parents, teachers, and older siblings to young children in a storytelling setting where siblings and peers sit together all at once to collectively hear it. 

Main Piece:

“흥부와 놀부”

Translation: “Heungbu and Nolbu”

“There are two brothers, Heungbu and Nolbu. Nolbu is the selfish, greedy brother, and Heungbu is like the good-natured, super nice, and generous brother. One day, Nolbu takes all the father’s inheritance and kicks his brother out, but Heungbu is too nice and says ‘I understand’ so then he becomes super poor, while Nolbu becomes super rich. Time passes by and one day, a small bird, a swallow I think, breaks its leg and falls onto Heungbu’s poor house. Even though he had nothing, he cured the bird and fixed its leg, giving it food and shelter. And it was like ‘thank you so much’ and left. When it returned, it dropped him a seed and gifted it to him. So he planted the seed, and out of the seed—a gourd seed—came jewelry and luxurious things that made him super rich. His selfish brother Nolbu, hearing that story, found a random bird and broke its leg, and did the same thing, faked and cured the bird. The bird came and returned him also a seed. And he planted that seed, and out came goblins and all these evil things that like wrecked his house, so he became super poor. Now the positions are switched, but Heungbu seeing that his brother was struggling, said ‘let’s live together’ and it ended up with a happy family situation.”

Analysis:

This Korean folk tale (märchen) carries messages of morals intended to be imparted from older, wiser figures to younger, more naive listeners. J. recalls learning to be generous as opposed to greedy from repeatedly hearing this story as a child, in multiplicity and variation depending on the storyteller because of the typical oral performance without specific reference to an authored literature. While the values of selflessness and generosity embedded in this folk tale are common to many cultures, certain details in the story make it specific to Korean folklore and culture. One of note is the cultural belief that gourds can magically withhold unknown treasures or horrors inside. In other words, gourds, apart from being a common vegetable food item, in this tale represent both sides of the human experience, reflecting the actions and ethics of those who plant them. As with many tales from other cultures, children who listen to this story by their elders become aware of real world rewarded values through fantastical suspensions of belief. Additionally, some of Propp’s syntagmatic structuralism and 31 functions (narratemes) appear in this tale like “14. Acquisition: Hero gains magical item” and “19. Resolution: Initial misfortune or lack is resolved”.

Annotation:

For another version collected by a South Korean scholar, see 

Kim. (2019). Aspects and Meanings of Narratives in “Heungbu and Nolbu” (1967). The Studies of Korean Literature, 64, 145–174. https://doi.org/10.20864/skl.2019.10.64.145