This is the first of what we hope will be many posts that will expand upon ideas from the podcast, introduce new concepts we didn’t have time to cover and share artwork for characters or concepts that are difficult to visualize.
One of the most fascinating aspects of mythology is its ability to explain things we do not yet fully understand. Whether it’s The Iliad, The Epic of Gilgamesh, or the Xiyouji, aka 西遊記, aka Journey to the West, there’s a reason these stories have moved so far beyond fireside fodder for our pre-historic relatives onto printed pages, big screens, and phone screens today while other equally old forms of entertainment–like bear-baiting, for example–have not.
For the Love of Myths
A possible reason for why myths endure is because the problems they wrestle with have not been fully solved; we are still contending with them subconsciously and might continue to do so for as long as we can consider ourselves human. Questions like, “How should one live?” “What really matters in this world?” and “Why aren’t we satisfied after we get what we want?” are debated in our classrooms, workplaces, online forums, and government assemblies. We may think we are grappling with something completely different than say, Achilles’s refusal to leave his tent at Troy, but anyone who hates their boss too much to go to work yet doesn’t want to let their co-workers down is fighting the same spiritual battle. Our attempts to resolve these problems come in numerous forms, including essays, social posts, laws, and wars. But their effects on reality are rarely immediately apparent. We can’t know for sure if we got it right for days, years, or even centuries. Sometimes we’ll never know, as we can’t go back in time or recreate a near-identical universe where only one event is different.
Myths, then, offer a much cleaner, more heightened, and easier to grasp articulation for what we intuitively know and need reinforced. What we find in myths might not exactly match our reality, but they are more real to us because they boil down our messy world into universal symbols, so that in their interplay we may find symbolic solutions for what to do (or not do) in metaphysically similar situations. Demons may not manifest as red-skinned, cloven-hoofed, and horn-headed monsters in this reality, but we still have to face them nonetheless. While banishing one might not be as simple as holding up a cross or calling upon a higher power, what these symbols represent–leading a life that empowers the brighter sides of our nature, doing good for those around us, and developing positive tools to cope with adversity–have been proven to help carry the day.
Why the Monkey King Matters
Besides inspiring countless videogames, movies, anime (of which Dragon Ball is but one), even beyond the widespread popularity and continual resonance of the Monkey King with children of all ages, what makes the character so important to us today lies in what he represents. While it’s doubtful whether a magical monkey was ever really born from a boulder to cause havoc all over the Aolai country of mystical China, the monkey mind is a real and oft-mentioned concept in Buddhism and meditative practices. It describes that impulsive and strong-willed part of all of us that can be very powerful and accomplish great things–like finding a home for our tribes or mastering skills that others think are magic. But it can also cause a lot of trouble if not harnessed correctly–as we shall see in the book’s later chapters. As James and I continue our Journey to the West, I am continually struck by the similarities between the chaos caused by the Monkey King’s near-limitless ambition and the effects our collective desires to do the impossible have wrought on the real world.
By starting his novel right at the universe’s beginning, and having the Monkey King be born from a primordial stone shaped by the timeless elements of nature, Wu Cheng’en seems to be suggesting that the monkey mind is older than mankind. By having the Monkey King continually strive to be better than he once was and always changing, he embodies the human spirit: we, too, strive to be deciders of our own destiny and in charge of our own evolution. By having his teacher, the Patriarch Subodhi, give him the name Sun Wukong (孫悟空), meaning “monkey awakening to the void”, the character also represents our own gradual awakening to the emptiness of worldly pursuits.
Perhaps, by spending a little time with one special monkey and his mythical journey, we in the west can learn a thing or two from this tale from the east about how to harness our own mischievous impulses, enlighten our consciousness, and transform our reality.
Inexplicable as it may be, heaven and earth might just depend on it.
NOTE: There are, of course, at least as many interpretations of Journey to the West as there are versions of the story across all media. Ours is but one and we cannot hope to cover them all. But we hope you’ll learn with us (and not cause too much monkey madness when we are wrong). Episode 1 may be found below. Journey on!