Background:
Informant (L) is a neuroscience major at USC double-majoring in art history.
L: This is a folk tale that’s very important to me, um, that I am convinced of is a fact. So, let me set the scene. I used to volunteer at a neuroscience research laboratory that was in one of the two newest buildings at the USC Health Science Campus. Um, and those two buildings are: the Zilka Neurogenic Institute and the Eli and Edythe Broad Center for Regenerative Medicine. Now, Eli Broad, for the unfamiliar, large, like real estate insurance magnate in California, billionaire billionaire, who just passed away in like, April of last year, I think. And so, is there like any more stereotypical, like on his deathbed, billionaire thing, to like write a giant grant for, then for like a fucking STEM cell research, like make-me-live-forever research institute, right? So I’m convinced that when like Broad wrote that grant, there were strings attached. It was not just to build the building. Like there is definitely a couple of USC doctors that are taking care of the body. And here’s the scene: If you go to Grand Ave., to downtown LA, which is like, Broad’s whole mission, was to like make that area upscale, which it is now, you can go to the Broad Museum, which is where his whole collection is. And part of the appeal of it is that you take this miniscule elevator that goes up from the ground floor to the top floor, and you can see through this little window, the large middle one, the large middle floor, which is where they keep all the art that’s in storage, under temperature and humidity control. Now how convenient to have all that temperature and humidity control technology laying around with a reason for it to be there? Is it possible that maybe hidden between all the sculptures, there’s a little case with the cryogenically-frozen head of Eli Broad? Is it possible that this museum is actually a pyramid to this dead man where they keep his corpse and there’s a little live-feed at the end? A video camera or two, sensors, and you got people in the regenerative center that are monitoring that feed and doing their research and just waiting for the day where they can bring the man back?
I: So like the Walt Disney thing?
L: Completely!
Context:
Informant was discussing a tale that he claims is true and intends to spread it to as many people as he can.
Analysis:
Fascinations with the mystery surrounding the elite upper echelons of society have been deeply embedded into our culture thanks to media and entertainment news. My informant tells a story about Eli Broad and his supposedly cryogenically-frozen state (which I relate back to Walt Disney). This conspiracy theory is somewhat similar to a memorate, taking observed experiences (the Regenerative Medicine Center, the Broad Museum, and the fact that Broad was extremely rich) and relating it to a traditional narrative belief system (cryogenic state and moderation of Broad). While this tale may be utterly false, my informant’s delivery of the story is particularly interesting—it first uses personal relation to the topic as ethos, then pieces together information in such a way to prove his point, then ends on rhetorical questions to his audience. Such a performance moves the audience emotionally to potentially believe in this theory. In general, the concept of living forever is also a point of fascination to humans, with objects like the Philosopher’s Stone supposedly being able to bring about eternal life. Such a fantastical element is also a compelling point of the narrative.
Author Archives: Hazel Gao
Pangu Creation Myth
Background:
Informant is a 53 y/o Chinese woman who is a first-generation immigrant to the US and has lived in the US for around 23 years.
Main Piece:
(trans.) “A long time ago, our world had no shape, just an expanse of chaos, which eventually shrinks into a large egg. Inside the egg was a giant named Pangu who was birthed from this egg. When he stood up, he grew taller each day, and was eventually able to separate the egg into the sky and the earth. Many thousands of years pass as Pangu stands with his arms holding up the sky and his feet firmly planted on the ground, and eventually, he passes away. Pangu’s corpse becomes many different things, his eyes are the sun and the moon, his blood is the river, ocean, etc., the details I’ve forgotten, but just like that we now have our world today.”
盘古开天的故事啊，让我想一想。。。嗯，简单的说，好久以前，我们的世界本来是没有任何形装，混乱的一片，慢慢的缩小，变成了一个大蛋，然后有一个巨人在这个蛋里，就是盘古，出生了。他站起来的时候，越战越高，每天长那么几厘米，就把蛋分为天和地。好几万年盘古就这样的站着，手撑着天，脚踏在地上，最终也去世了。他的尸体就成为了世界里面的各种东西，眼睛是太阳和月亮，血是河，大海，等等，细节忘掉了，反正就这样子变成了我们现在住的世界。
Background:
This conversation took place over the phone. I asked my informant about Chinese creation myths she knows of.
Analysis:
Around the world, myths are few in number—myths are often creation stories with transcendental truths in them that answer why the world is the way it is, exploring the relationship between humans and the cosmos. The belief in myths doesn’t stem from the literal narrative it tells, but rather from the sacred meaning behind it, which is why myths have many different variations, but they generally do not change over time. Myths can be analyzed using Levi-Strauss’ structuralism approach, which takes the smallest components of a myth and how they relate to each other, which is most commonly presented through binary oppositions, and thus come to an understanding about that particular culture’s ways of thinking. In this Chinese creation myth, there are a couple of key symbols. First, the primordial chaos that is contained, specifically, into an egg, the egg is then separated into Earth and Sky, there is then the birth and growth of a giant, who eventually dies, and finally his corpse turning into various celestial and natural elements present in the earth and sky. While extremely simplified, these binaries are all somewhat related to the ideas of recycling and reincarnation, and that nothing is ever truly destroyed—Pangu splits the egg, his body dies but turns into the natural world.
Either way, it is interesting to think about this creation myth in the context of modern China, which generally doesn’t push for any specific religion, and these myths are now usually found more in written texts rather than passed along by speaking. This myth is generally associated with Daoism, though elements of reincarnation lean more towards Buddhism.
For another version of the Pangu myth, see Goldin, Paul R. “THE MYTH THAT CHINA HAS NO CREATION MYTH.” Monumenta Serica, vol. 56, 2008, pp. 1–22, http://www.jstor.org/stable/40727596.
AI Poem
Background:
Informant (T) is a student studying at USC.
Main Piece:
“Nothing is so good or so bad that it can’t be both at the same time.”
Context:
“My friend likes to create poems using AI, and this was a sentence made from one of them, and we like to use it a lot now.”
Analysis:
The usage of digital technology in folklore is now a primary topic of debate. Whether or not this saying can be constituted as folklore could certainly be contested, but as according to my informant, they use it amongst their group, thus being passed around orally. Folklore studies are also generally less concerned with the origin of a piece of folklore in recent years, so despite the technological origins of this piece, I believe it still counts as folklore. This particular saying is both vague and universal enough that it emulates an actual proverb, which are popular as they are short and easily understood, and also embody a form of historical wisdom. In this case, the saying speaks on moral balance and the inherent gray nature of things (rather than having a clearly defined good vs. evil), which perhaps aligns with the moral compass of my informant and his circle of contacts.
Using digital technology as a means to create folklore also raises interesting questions on copyright and ownership, which are also increasingly prevalent discussions in the 21st century. While my informant didn’t specifically touch on ownership, it is highly possible that such pieces of digitally-created media are then owned by its creator (perhaps the most prominent example of this would be NFTs), and while in this case the saying is attributed to my friend, if it spreads across a larger population, the origin of such a saying could eventually become blurred.
Squonk
Background:
Informant is a USC student living in California.
“The Squonk is a creature that foresters and lumbermen started seeing in the late 20th century in Pennsylvania hemlock forests. So they’d be cutting down trees and in the glade, and they’d see a squonk. And they’ve described them as like ugly dog-like creatures with loose-fitting skin and really huge eyes that are like full of sadness and hatred for themselves and then, um, if a squonk knows that it’s been seen, it will dissolve into a pool of its own tears and, yeah, I’ve never seen a squonk but I like the legend of it, I like to think they’re out there.”
Context:
I asked my informant whether or not he knew of any legendary animals. He told me about the squonk, which he first encountered on the Internet, and then found more information in bestiary texts.
Analysis:
Legendary creatures can be somewhat associated with spirits—they generally don’t appear without a particular reason or are tied to a specific place (depending on how popular the creature is). Spirits are also usually reminders from the past that appear to uphold culture, enforce the status quo, and/or remind people of traditions. In the case of the squonk, it seems to be related to issues regarding deforestation and/hunting, warning humans (as it appears to foresters and lumberjacks) against the dangers of doing so, given how it seems to be a creature filled with sadness. Spirits come and go, some evade human contact while others don’t, so their existence is guaranteed more by the texts and performances that contain them rather than their actual presence. In the case of the squonk, as it is a relatively recent creature, its presence on the web is a textual space it exists in, providing meaning for its existence.
Songpyeon
Background:
Informant is a half-white, half-Korean student studying at USC who has lived in America their whole life.
“I feel like it’s not a tradition, just a holiday, on 추석 (Chuseok), which is like the Korean Thanksgiving, you eat like, rice cake also. You eat this like little, there’s like little colorful ones, I think they’re called 송편 (songpyeon, lit. “pine cake”), and they have little things in it, they go bad really fast.”
Context:
This conversation was recorded in-person. We were discussing holidays that we celebrated that had traditional foods usually eaten on said holiday.
Analysis:
Food is a major component of ethnic identity. As Elliot Oring notes in his book, Folk Groups and Folklore Genres, “it is unlikely that anyone who feels some stirrings of identification with an ethnic group cannot think of some dish recipe, or kind of meal that they particularly associate with their group” (35). Songpyeon is seen as quintessential to Chuseok, as it also carries symbolic belief, to show gratitude to the year’s harvest. Songpyeon is a type of dish made from rice, which is a staple crop in Korean food (there are also many other dishes that involve rice—tteok is a whole classification of various rice cakes). Making songpyeon invariably leads to a large quantity made, it is reasonable for it to be served on a holiday like Chuseok, traditionally celebrated with the entire family. As folklore, food serves as a symbol of in-group identification, creating a sense of community. Especially with members of a diaspora, food is also a way to stay connected with their culture that they otherwise would not be exposed to.