Demons (Part 3)

Welcome back for the concluding part of my series of articles on the Yecha demon.  I hope you’re enjoying it, as the irony of this article growing into a monstrously huge three-parter is not lost on me!

In part one we heard of how the legend grew from Indian roots, in part two we heard about its appearance and early growth through Chinese literature, and in this final part we continue our journey, starting from the 1700s and bringing it up to the modern day.

The Yecha Kingdom (Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio)

Following on from part two, we are now blown to a strange land, for some 《聊齋誌異》 (Liáozhāi Zhìyì) [“Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio”].  The “Strange Tales…” were written by 蒲松齡 (Pú Sōnglíng) and first published around twenty-five years after Pu’s death in 1740.  I found the tales read with a fairly stark and factual tone.  The lengths of the four hundred and ninety seven tales vary from half a page to around six pages, but rarely indulge in much copious character development or descriptive scene-setting.

The particular ‘strange tale’ that we will be looking at is not to be found in the Penguin published, abridged translation by John Minford.  It is called 《夜叉國》(Yèchā Guó) [“The Yecha Kingdom”] and is sort of like a Chinese version of Robinson Crusoe… complete with cannibals.

It begins with our main protagonist 徐 (Xú) ₍₁₎ from 交州 (Jiāozhōu) ₍₂₎ becoming shipwrecked in a strange land.  There, he is found by a few Yecha and dragged to their cave in order to turn him into lunch.  He manages to assuage them by cooking some other meat and this so impresses them that they spare him and make him their chef.  He lives with them for a while and learns some of their language (which he considers primative) and he soon attracts a female yecha (who never gets called anything other than;  母夜叉 (Mǔyèchā) [lit. Female Yecha]) as a wife.  He has three children with his Yecha wife and they all turn out looking human, but later demonstrate innate Yecha strength and hunting skills.  After almost being raped by another mǔyèchā he leaves the Yecha kingdom and returns to China with only his eldest son [徐彪 (Xú Biāo)].  Xú Biāo grows up to become a immensely successful military man, and one day he receives a visit from a merchant who has also been castaway in the Yecha kingdom.  The merchant relays his story and Xú Biāo arranges to journey there to collect the rest of his family.  Once the family arrives in China, Mǔyèchā berates (papa) Xú for running off without her and the other two children.

After adjusting to life in China the second son becomes a successful scholar and the daughter is married off to one of Xú Biāo’s recently widowed military subordinates.  Despite her military skills and independent spirit previously scaring away potential suitors, these attributes end-up bringing great military success to her new husband.

The story sadly closes with a strikingly sexist comment;

異史氏說：「夜叉夫人，真是罕見，

The strange historian [Yi Shishi ₍₃₎] says:  “A Yecha wife, is truly rare,

可是仔細思量也不稀奇：

but careful consideration [will show] it is not [so] strange:

每一家的牀頭都有個夜叉在。」

located at the head of every family’s bed;  All have a Yecha.”

I would like to point out that there is no confirmed cannibalism in this story – just the threat of it.  It could be read that Xú’s initial fear of the Yecha that discover him, could have been based more in their alterity than of anticipated cannibalism.

The Yechas in this story are a radical departure from those described in the previous stories.  There are two versions of the Yecha to look at here;  1. Mǔyèchā (the wife of Xú) and  2. All the other background Yechas.  The background Yechas are strong and possibly appear fierce, their protective side is only displayed when they place a heavy stone in front the cave entrance that Xú is in, to keep him from escaping and others from hurting him.  They were initially keen to eat Xú, the wayward traveller though.

Then we have Mǔyèchā, who protects Xú when he is about to be raped.  She then ‘wears him like a shadow’, never straying far apart from him, until he escapes the island.  The sad part here is that Xú doesn’t appreciate all the things Mǔyèchā does for him.  She may not be a great beauty but they have three children together – you think that would account for something!  Throughout the book, Pu Songling’s penchant for weak male protagonists left me wondering if the story’s ending could in anyway be read as a happy one. His sexist comment suggests he is rooting for these weak male characters. In the Yecha Kingdom everyone does escape the violence and basic living conditions of the island, and the kids seem to be set up for life.

The Yecha

施蟄存 (Shī Zhécún) is a modernist Chinese writer and is most famous for his short story 《梅雨之夕》 (Méiyǔ zhī xī) [An Evening in the Rainy Season] (1929).  In 1933 however, he published a short story called 《夜叉》 (Yèchā) [“The Yecha”].  The story is written at a time when an appreciation of the countryside over the newly established cities was popular, and blends the realism flavour of the literary modernism movement into a monster story, complete with hallucinations and a psychotic break.

The story begins with 卞士明 (Biàn Shìmíng), a Shanghai native and our protagonist, being visited in hospital by his friend Shi (presumably intended to be the author: 施 (Shī)).  Shi informs us of the soundness of Bian’s mind and body prior to the incident that put him into hospital, but we soon move into Bian’s tale of how he came to be there.  It is here the narration voice switches from Shi to a more unreliable Bian. Shi’s use of an unreliable narrator is a classic way to evoke the realism of the modernist approach.

Bian has travelled to 留下街道 (Liúxià Jiēdào) [Liúxià Town] ₍₄₎, a -then countryside- locale at the base of a mountain.  The town’s name could be foreshadowing to the reader as Liúxià literally means ‘to stay behind’ and Bian finds he enjoys the bucolic surroundings so much, that he decides to stay on for a brief sojourn after his grandmother’s funeral and the accompanying burial matters are taken care of.

Borrowing books of local legends, he learns of an ancient island priory which contains some paintings of interest.  Upon visiting the priory, his two-person boat brushes against a similar boat which was casting off, and in which he sees a woman dressed entirely in white (the traditional funereal colour in China and a constant colour motif in the story).  He quickly decides that she is ‘most likely a prostitute or some other such tawdry woman’ simply because she has the audacity to be traveling alone and dressed similar to a type of woman he sees every day in Shanghai.

He then has a ‘shimmering bright white glimmer dancing constantly before his eyes’ and recalls several paintings which feature the woman in glimmering white (whose he now describes as ‘beguiling’).  He is now replete with lust after a brief glimpse of her languid, leaning posture in her reed-awning boat, and from this moment is besotted, describing her as ‘graceful and beautiful beyond measure’ despite not having had any verbal exchange or contact with her more than their boats brushing.

He returns to his temporary lodgings and that night by chance drops a book, which reveals a passage about the appearance of a Yecha, a century ago in the mountains nearby.  This Yecha appeared in the guise of a beautiful woman who would lure peasants and woodcutters from the nearby village, and the next morning a pile of white bones would turn up.  This freaks Bian out and he espies a glimpse of a woman outside dressed in white mourning garments amongst the trees.  He gets it into his head that this woman is a Yecha and conflates her with the woman from the boat.  Now describing her as having a face with a ‘sinful air’ and eyes with ‘mystic powers’.  He then imagines the woman in white becoming some smoke and soaring across the sky.

He decides to take some dinner but drinks numerous cups of 紹興酒 (Shàoxīngjiǔ) [Shàoxīng rice wine], and after his hosts have gone to bed -and still not sober- he slips out, wandering quite far into the mountain wilderness.  After throwing a rock at a white rabbit that he mistakes for the demon he spots the outline of a woman (also in white).  He equates her with ‘the unvanquished yecha of a century before’, and decides that he ‘would not mind examining the den of a yecha’.  So pursuit ensues and en route he decides he is in love with her and wouldn’t mind dying from making love to her.  He catches up to her at a tomb in the woods, where the woman approaches him to embrace and with his eyes clenched, he strangles her, afterwards realising that this was actually a country woman out for a secret rendezvous with her lover.

He flees, finding his way home and the next morning makes his excuses to return to the city early.  On his journey he overhears talk of a deaf and dumb woman who had run away from home the night before and not been heard from since.  He becomes paranoid with guilt and begins to see the woman from the boat everywhere;  on the train platform, in the next carriage, and finally in town at a candy counter.  This brings us full circle back to the psychiatric ward of the story’s beginning.

Personally, after reading I was left wondering if Bian’s conflation of the woman in white and the mythical Yecha suggests a pre-existing fear of (or issues with) women?  He does flip-flop between descriptions of her:  from ‘tawdry’ to ‘beguiling, graceful, and beautiful beyond measure’, then as having a face with a ‘sinful air’ and eyes with ‘mystic powers’, before deciding he is in love with her, and finally strangling her.

What little we can gleam of the Yecha’s character is that she is a succubus-type demon.  This goes against the main two characteristics I discussed in parts one and two, but could be taken as a spin on the ‘predator of travellers’ aspect.  The Yecha of this story exists solely in the mind of Bian and is really a feature of his mental breakdown with sexist overtones used throughout.

Cultural Revolution and the Backlash to the Fantastical

At this point I would like to take a quick side step to highlight a significant interruption to the publication of Chinese supernatural fiction.  From 1966 to 1976 the Cultural Revolution took place. I don’t want to wander off too deep into it, but I feel it important to note that stories of the supernatural were denounced as obstacles to scientific progress and the modernisation of China.  毛泽东 (Máo Zédōng) called for the people to 「横扫一切牛鬼蛇神 」 “Sweep Away All Cow Demons and Snake Spirits”.  The term 牛鬼蛇神 (Niúguǐ Shéshén) [Cow demons [and] snake spirits] was created by Tang dynasty poet 杜牧 (Dù Mù) (803-852) to describe fellow Tang poet 李賀 (Lǐ Hè)’s (791–817) fantastic wonders, but was re-appropriated by Máo Zédōng to refer to reactionaries and “class enemies”.  Leading up to this 胡適 (Hú Shì), a Chinese diplomat (who died prior to the Cultural Revolution in 1962) wrote;

“Spells and magical creatures of Chinese fiction were more harmful to the Chinese people than the germs discovered by Louis Pasteur.”

A Hundred Ghosts Parade Tonight

In 2012, the Chinese science-fiction writer;  夏笳 (Xià Jiā), published a short story called;  《百鬼夜行街》 (Bǎi Guǐ Yè Xíngjiē) [“A Hundred Ghosts Parade Tonight”] ₍₆₎.  The story has a tiny role for a Yecha, as a single demon amongst many, but I wanted to draw your attention to how the Yecha is still to be found in literature in the present day.  This Yecha plays on the attribute that Yechas “haunt the wilderness and eat waylaid travellers”.

The main protagonist in the story is a boy [宁哥儿 (Níng Gēr)] who lives among ghosts on ‘Ghost Street’.  There is also a ghost figure called 小倩 (Xiǎo Qiàn) who fulfills a semi-maternal role to Níng Gēr, and a hero ghost figure called 燕赤霞 (Yān Chìxiá) who occupies a semi-paternal role to him.

After overhearing a conversation between Xiǎo and Yān, Níng’s status as a human boy among ghosts is brought into question.  After growing to the age of seven, he hasn’t aged or grown since.

The ghosts of Ghost Street put on a parade and it is here that we briefly come into contact with the story’s Yecha.  In what seems like a traditional festival staged incident, a huge, 黑夜叉 (Hēi Yèchā) [Dark Yecha] bursts into the carnival parade where it is supposed to abduct a tourist.  As there are no longer any tourists that visit Ghost Street, Níng takes on the role and flees for his life as the Dark Yecha pursues.  The pursuit ends when Níng is saved by the hero-figure;  Yān.  During this event the author reminds us that Níng is no real danger, for it is all fake – “A ghost can never hurt a real person.  That’s one of the rules of the game.”

The story concludes with construction machines arriving and tearing down Ghost street, complete with the destruction of the 兰若寺 (Lánrěsì) [Lanruo Buddhist temple] and the street’s source of power a special ‘Ghost (Cassia) Tree’.  The construction is halted when Níng has his head torn off by the machines.  The machines are not permitted to harm humans either it seems!

The main thrust of the story can be read as;  modern ‘progression’ destroying the legacy of the past.  With this in mind, ghosts represent the past as well as traditional folk culture.  The brief appearance of the Yecha means its role has to be clear, and that role is quickly defined in the staged event as the demon that eats waylaid travellers.  The chase is therefore a meta-event parodying the supposed reality of the Yecha with the Yecha play-acting the dark version of its traditional role.

Conclusion – Tutelary or Terror?

From its Indian Hindu origins, to its first appearance in China via the 《拾遺記》 (Shíyí Jì), to present day publications such as the sci-fi writer Xià Jiā’s “A Hundred Ghosts Parade Tonight”, the Yecha has maintained a firm grip on the imagination of China – there’s even a Sichuanese metal-punk band which formed in 1995, that call themselves ‘Yaksa’ (The Japanese spelling of Yecha).

The Yecha as a demon -in part- represents the fear of travelling that lies in the Chinese collective unconscious:  Don’t go travelling or the Yecha will get you!  And definitely don’t travel alone!

Are there features that go to create the Yecha’s U.S.P. (unique selling point)?  I think so.  It has a fierce appearance, it is strong, sometimes behaves as a killer of wayward travellers, and sometimes as a protector.  The guardian variety (pun intended!) can be seen standing outside temples across Southeast Asia.

We could describe them as 妖怪 (Yāoguài) [Monsters] (lit. Demon Monsters) -and in the 2019 “Nezha” movie, Lǐ Gèn gets called such, several times by Nézhà-, but if we are strict with the term, it doesn’t quite fit, as the Yecha doesn’t tend to use magical powers.  It seems to use more malice than magic.

The stories I’ve talked about give quite contrasting illustrations of the Yecha, but I would suggest that this is because the author’s are using the Yecha to personify different fears in different times.  As ‘demons’ the Yecha seem to me, to be simply fears made into myth.

Notes

The Yecha Kingdom

1. 徐 (Xú) is a surname but literally means;  Gently, Slowly, Quietly, Calmly, Composed, Dignified.  We can then infer that to a Chinese audience there would be an inference that Xú is a fairly meak and gentle man.

2. “From 交州 (Jiāozhōu)”;  Jiaozhou was a province in China that only existed during the Han [漢朝 (Hàncháo)] and Jin [晉朝 (Jìncháo)] dynasties (202 BCE – 420 CE).  This tells us that the story is not set in the Qing dynasty [清朝 (Qīngcháo)] of the author’s lifetime (1640 to 1715).

3. 異史氏 (Yì Shǐshì) [‘The Strange Historian’] is a fictional narrator character used sporadically across The Strange Tales.

You can read a chaste Victorian (published in 1880) translation of “The Yecha Kingdom” (called “LVII: The Country of the Cannibals / Cave Men”) by Herbert A. Giles for free by downloading it from here, courtesy of Project Gutenberg.

Bear in mind that, being morally of its time, this translation cuts out the scene where Xú is almost raped and tones down all the other sexual references.

You can also find a picture book version (Chinese text only) here.

The Yecha of Shi Zhecun

4. 留下街道 (Liúxià Jiēdào) [Liuxia Town (a residential district)], is located in the 杭州市 (Hángzhōu shì) [Hangzhou city] region of 浙江省 (Zhèjiāng Shěng) [Zhejiang province].

5. The artist is;  張旺 (Zhāng Wàng), a modern Chinese painter, and an associate professor of Nankai University.  Here’s his blog-page.

You can read Christopher Rosenmeier’s English translation of 《夜叉》 (Yèchā) [“The Yaksha”] by 施蟄存 (Shī Zhécún) in full here.

A Hundred Ghosts Parade Tonight

6. You can read Ken Liu’s English translation of “A Hundred Ghosts Parade Tonight” in full here. Ken Liu [刘宇昆 (Liú Yǔkūn)] is a Chinese-American translator who also translated; 《三體》 (Sāntǐ) [“The Three Body Problem”] by 劉慈欣 (Liú Cíxīn) [which won sci-fiction’s prestigious Hugo Award for Best Novel].