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The Prince Who Had Everything: The Legend of the Buddha

Of all Buddhist tales, the best-known and best-loved is the story of Buddha’s own birth and youth. Buddha—“the Enlightened One” or “The Awakened One”—is the religious title given to Siddhartha Gautama, a prince of the Sakya clan, which ruled an area that today straddles the border between Nepal and the Indian state of Bihar. He is believed to have lived from around 563 to around 483 B.C.
No official account of Buddha’s life was left by either Buddha or his disciples. As with most great religious leaders, the stories of his early life were gradually expanded and embellished by his followers. Still, the legend probably represents in symbolic form the early spiritual life of the young man who became the Buddha.
In the royal city of Kapilavatthu, a son had come to the great King Suddhodana and his lovely Queen Maya. They named the boy Siddhartha, which means “He Who Reaches His Goal.”
Soon after the birth, the king was visited by a great seer named Asita. The baby was brought for him to see. To the king’s alarm, the holy man burst into tears.
“Sir, what is wrong?” asked the king. “Do you foresee some disaster for my son?”
“Not at all,” said the seer. “His future is supreme. Your son shall become a Buddha, an Enlightened One, and free the world from its bonds of illusion. I weep only for myself, for I will not live to hear his teachings.”
Now, the king was distressed that his only heir might turn to a life of religion. He called upon eight Brahmin priests, all skilled in interpreting signs, and asked them to prophesy for the prince.
When the priests had conferred, their spokesman addressed the king. “Your majesty, if your son follows in your footsteps, he will become a Universal King and rule the known world. But if he renounces home and family for the life of a seeker, he will become a Buddha and save the world from its ignorance and folly.”
The king asked, “What would cause my son to renounce home and family?”
The priest answered, “Seeing the four signs.”
“And what are the four?”
“An old man, a sick man, a dead man, and a holy man.”
“Then none of these shall he see,” the king declared. And he placed guards around the palace to keep all such persons away.
As Siddhartha grew to manhood, the king sought ways to strengthen the prince’s ties to home. He married him to the lovely Princess Yasodhara, who in time bore a son. And he surrounded him with dancing girls to while away his hours. The prince became a creature of pleasure and seldom left his luxurious apartments in the palace’s upper stories.
But one day Siddhartha thought he would visit a park outside the city. The king arranged the outing, with strict orders to his guards to keep the road clear of the old, the sick, the dead, and the holy.
As the prince passed through the city in his royal carriage, people lined the road to admire him. The guards followed the king’s orders as best they could. But even so, the prince spied in the crowd a man with gray hair, weak limbs, and bent back.
“Driver,” said Siddhartha, “what is wrong with that man?”
“He is old, my lord.”
“And what is ‘old’?” asked the prince.
“‘Old’ is when you have lived many years.”
“And will I too become ‘old’?”
“Yes, my lord. To grow old is our common fate.”
“If all must face old age,” said the prince, “then how can we take joy in youth?”
Not long after, the prince spied a man yellow-faced and shaking, leaning on a companion for support. “Driver, what is wrong with that man?”
“He is sick, my lord.”
“And what is ‘sick’?”
“‘Sick’ is when your health has left you.”
“And will I too become ‘sick’?”
“It is likely, my lord. To be sick is our common fate.”
“If all must face sickness,” said the prince, “then how can we take pride in health?”
Before long, the prince spied a stiff, motionless man being carried along by four others.
“Driver, what is wrong with that man?”
“He has died, my lord.”
“And what is ‘die’?”
“‘Die’ is when your life is finished.”
“And will I too ‘die’?”
“You will, my lord, without a doubt. Of all our fates, death is the most certain.”
“If all must face death,” said the prince, “then how can we delight in life?”
At last the prince spied a man with shaved head and saffron robe.
“Driver, what is that man.”
“He is a seeker, my lord.”
“And what is a ‘seeker’?”
“A ‘seeker’ is one who renounces home and family to wander about, living on what he begs. Avoiding pleasure, he subdues the passions; meditating, he controls the mind. And so he strives for freedom from this world of tears and the endless round of rebirths.”
“Driver, return to the palace. No more do I care for parks or pleasure or anything that may pass away. Soon I too will be a seeker, renouncing this life that binds me.”
That very night, Siddhartha slipped into the women’s quarters for one last look at his sleeping wife and son. Then quietly he descended to the courtyard, mounted a white steed, and set out.
The city gate, too heavy for a single man, swung open by itself at his approach. And as the prince passed through, he made this vow:
“Never shall I enter this city again, till I’ve seen the farther shore of life and death.”

More About the Story

This simplified retelling is based primarily on the Pali Canon and the Nidanakatha (introduction to the Jataka), with some help from the Buddhacarita of Asvaghosha and the Mahavastu. Most of these texts were written down between 500 and 1000 years after the lifetime of Buddha but were based on earlier oral and written traditions.
References included:
Buddhism in Translations, selected and translated by Henry Clarke Warren, Harvard University Press, Cambridge, 1896 (Vol. 3 of the Harvard Oriental Series). Includes the relevant portion of the Nidanakatha.
The Gospel of Buddha, compiled by Paul Carus, Open Court Publishing, Chicago and London, 1917. Drawn from numerous sources.
The Life of Gotama the Buddha, compiled by E. H. Brewster, Kegan Paul, London, 1926. Drawn from the Pali Canon.
The Buddhacarita, or Acts of the Buddha, translated by E. H. Johnston, Motilal Banarsidass, Lahore, 1936.
The Mahavastu, Vol. 2, translated by J. J. Jones, Luzac, London, 1952 (Vol. 18 of Sacred Books of the Buddhists).
The Historical Buddha, H. W. Schumann, Arkana, London, 1982.
For further reading: Paul Carus’s The Gospel of the Buddha (see above) and The Life of Buddha, by A. Ferdinand Herold, Tuttle, Tokyo, 1954.

How to Say the Names

(General hint: If an h follows a d, or t, pretend it isn’t there.)
Buddha ~ BOO-duh
Siddhartha ~ sid-DAR-tuh
Gautama ~ GAW-tuh-muh
Kapilavatthu ~ KAP-pil-luh-VAH-too
Suddhodana ~ soo-DO-duh-nuh
Maya ~ MAH-yuh
Asita ~ AH-see-tuh
Yasodhara ~ yuh-SO-duh-ruh

Abraham and the Idols: An Islamic Legend

Many of the Jewish prophets and patriarchs of the Bible are revered by Muslims as well. Among these, none is more important than Abraham. He is said to be the father not only of Judaism but also of Islam, through his first son Ishmael.
Islam, say the Muslims, is the pure religion of Abraham, restored and extended by God through his prophet Muhammad. One of the chief tenets of this faith is the rejection of idolatry—as exemplified in this legend of Abraham’s youth. This tenet was especially important to the first Muslims, since the Arabs of Muhammad’s time still worshiped idols.
The legend is found in the Koran, the holy book of Islam. Though not in the Bible itself, it appears in Bible commentaries of the rabbis and is one of many legends shared by Muslims and Jews.
In the days of mighty King Nimrod, there lived in Mesopotamia a young man named Abraham. Now, Abraham’s father was an idol maker named Azar, who carved the wooden gods worshiped by his people. But Abraham was a believer in the one God, and not in the gods made by hand.
Azar would send Abraham and his other sons to sell his idols in the marketplace. But Abraham would call to the passersby, “Who’ll buy my idols? They won’t help you and they can’t hurt you! Who’ll buy my idols?”
Then Abraham would mock the gods of wood. He would take them to the river, push their faces into the water, and command them, “Drink! Drink!”
At last Abraham said to his father, “How can you worship what doesn’t see or hear or do you any good?”
Azar replied, “Dare you deny the gods of our people? Get out of my sight!”
“May God forgive you,” said Abraham. “No more will I live with you and your idols.” And he left the house of his father.
Now, the time came for one of the festivals of that town. The people gathered in their temple and placed offerings of food before their gods.
Abraham walked among them, saying, “What are you worshiping? Do these idols hear when you call them? Can they help you or hurt you?”
But their only reply was, “It is the way of our forefathers.”
“I am sick of your gods!” declared Abraham. “Truly I am their enemy.”
When the people had gone out, Abraham took some of the food and held it up to the idols. “Why don’t you eat?” he mocked them. “Aren’t you hungry? Speak to me!” And he slapped their faces.
Then Abraham took an ax and chopped the idols to pieces—all except the largest idol, the chief god of the people. And he tied the ax to the hand of that idol.
When the people returned, they were shocked to find their gods broken up and scattered about the temple. Then they remembered how Abraham had spoken, and they sent for him.
“Abraham,” said the head man, “was it you who did this?”
“Surely it was someone!” he replied. “Their chief stands there with an ax in his hand. Perhaps he grew jealous and destroyed the rest. But why don’t you just ask him?”
The head man said, “You know they neither strike nor speak.”
“Then why worship gods that you make?” demanded Abraham. “Worship instead the Maker of all!”
But few of the people would listen. Abraham was seized and brought to King Nimrod for punishment.
When Nimrod had heard the accusers, he turned to Abraham. “Who is this mighty God you spoke of?”
“He it is Who gives life and death,” answered Abraham.
“But I too give life and death,” said Nimrod. “I pardon a guilty man sentenced to die—then I execute one who is innocent!”
“That is not the way of my Lord,” said Abraham. “But listen to this: Each morning, my Lord brings the sun up in the east. Can you make it rise in the west?”
Then Nimrod grew angry. He had a great fire built, and he ordered Abraham to be tied up and thrown into it. But the fire only burnt away the ropes, and they saw Abraham sitting peacefully among the flames. Beside him was an angel in Abraham’s likeness, comforting and protecting him.
After that, Nimrod did not dare try to harm Abraham again. Abraham returned to his town, where he gathered those who believed in the one God. Then he set out west, placing all faith in the Lord.

More About the Story

In the Koran, Abraham’s father—or “sire”—is called Azar, while the Bible calls his father Terah. Some Muslim authorities believe the names refer to two different people. But various versions of this legend use the names interchangeably for the same character.
While the Bible is mainly a book of stories, the Koran is a book of sermons. Nearly all of its tales are provided only in scattered fragments. But the Arabs, if nothing else, are great lovers of stories. After Muhammad’s death, all story fragments in the Koran were extracted, linked, interpreted, and expanded by scholars and popularizers.
In the Koran, bits about Abraham’s youth are in chapters 2:258–260, 6:75–84, 19:41–50, 21:51–70, 26:69–104, 29:16–25, 37:83–98, and 43:26–27. Influential reconstructions are found in the works of Ibn Ishaq, Tabari, Thalabi, and Kisai. (Thalabi’s works are not yet available in English.)
References included:
The Holy Quran, translated by Maulana Muhammad Ali, Ahmadiyyah Anjuman Ishaat Islam, Lahore, 1917, 1951.
The Tales of the Prophets of al-Kisai, translated by W. M. Thackston, Jr., Twayne, Boston, 1978.
The History of al-Tabari, Vol. 2: Prophets and Patriarchs, translated by William M. Brinner, State University of New York, Albany, 1987.
The Making of the Last Prophet, edited and translated by Gordon Darnell Newby, University of South Carolina, Columbia, 1989. Reconstruction of the lost first section of Ibn Ishaq’s Sirat Rasul Allah.
The Koran, translated by N. J. Dawood, Penguin, London, 1990.
For further reading:
The Life of the Prophet Muhammad, by Leila Azzam and Aisha Gouverneur, Islamic Texts Society, London, 1985.
Islamic Legends: Histories of the Heroes, Saints, and Prophets of Islam, by Jan Knappert, E. J. Brill, Leiden, 1985.
For the Jewish version of the legend:
A Harvest of World Folk Tales, edited by Milton Rugoff, Viking, New York, 1949.
Mimekor Yisrael: Classical Jewish Folktales, Vol. 1: National Tales, collected by Micha Joseph bin Gorion, translated by I. M. Lask, Indiana University Press, Bloomington and London, 1976.
The Book of Legends, Sefer Ha-Aggadah: Legends from the Talmud and Midrash, edited by Hayim Nahman Bialik and Yehoshua Hana Ravnitzky, translated by William G. Braude, Schocken, New York, 1992.
The Legends of the Jews, Vols. 1 and 5, Louis Ginzberg, translated by Henrietta Szold, Jewish Publication Society, Philadelphia, 1937.

How Violence Is Ended: A Buddhist Legend

Nearly all the world’s greatest religious teachers have been peacemakers, and the Buddha was certainly one of these. Among the ethical precepts of his “Eightfold Path” was “Right Action,” which included avoiding all killing.
A legend is told of two kingdoms on the brink of battle. Each claimed the right to irrigate lands from a river flowing between. The Buddha asked the two kings, “What is the water worth?” “Very little,” was the reply. “And what is a life worth?” “It is priceless.” “Then why would you trade something priceless for something of little worth?”
According to tradition, the following tale was told by the Buddha himself to monks whose quarrel had reached the point of violence.
Once long ago, there arose a quarrel between two kings.
One king was the great Brahmadatta. His kingdom was large and rich, and his troops were many. The other king was Dighiti. His kingdom was small and poor, and his troops were few.
Brahmadatta told his generals, “We will march against Dighiti and conquer his kingdom. He will not be able to resist me.”
When Dighiti heard of the army’s advance, he told Deva, his queen, “Nothing we do can prevent Brahmadatta from seizing our country. For the sake of our people, it is best to avoid a battle. Let us flee from the kingdom tonight.”
Deva asked, “Where can we go?”
“We will go to Brahmadatta’s own capital city, Benares. It is large enough to hide in, and he will never search for us there.”
So they took their young son, Dighavu, and fled by night to Benares. There they lodged in a poor quarter of the city. King Dighiti disguised himself as a wandering holy man and each day begged enough coins and food for them all.
Time passed and the prince grew toward manhood. Then King Dighiti told his wife, “Truly is it said, we may forgive those who hurt us, but we never forgive those we hurt. If Brahmadatta finds us here, he will surely kill us all. It is best to send our son from the city.”
The queen said, “Let him go to my parents in the west. There he can learn the arts and sciences proper to his estate.” So they sent the prince away.
Now, it happened that the barber from the court of King Dighiti was at this time at work in the court of Brahmadatta. One day, the barber caught sight of Dighiti in the marketplace, begging in the guise of a holy man. Hoping for reward, he secretly followed Dighiti to his home, then reported to Brahmadatta.
Brahmadatta sent his men to arrest the family. Dighiti and Deva were brought before him.
“Where is your son?” demanded Brahmadatta.
“Beyond your reach,” replied Dighiti.
Brahmadatta turned to one of his generals. “Tie them up and cart them around the city for all to see and scorn. Then take them out the south gate and execute them by the sword. Allow no one to perform the funeral rites. Their bodies shall be prey to birds and beasts.”
Now, on that very day, Prince Dighavu had come back to Benares to visit his parents. As he passed through the marketplace, he saw soldiers on horse and on foot, and among them a cart, and tied up in the cart, his mother and his father. And he was powerless to help them.
King Dighiti saw the prince as well. Wishing to advise his son, yet mindful not to give him away, Dighiti called out as if to no one. And these were his words:
Be not shortsighted.
Be not longsighted.
Not by violence is violence ended.
Violence is ended by nonviolence.

As darkness fell, King Dighiti and Queen Deva were taken outside the city walls and executed by the sword. Their bodies were left on the ground, with a dozen soldiers standing guard.
Within the city, Prince Dighavu told himself, “First I will perform the funeral rites for my parents. Then I will find a way to avenge them.”
He bought strong wine in the marketplace and brought it to the guards. They took it gladly, and soon lay drunk and asleep.
Dighavu piled up wood, placed his parents’ bodies on top, then lit the funeral pyre. He pressed his palms together and walked three times around the flames.
At that moment, at the royal palace, Brahmadatta was strolling upon his roof terrace, puzzling over the words of King Dighiti that had been reported to him. Gazing far south, over the city wall, he spied the fire and the figure circling it.
“It must be Prince Dighavu,” he told himself. And a cold fear gripped his heart.
The prince, his duty complete, slipped quickly into the forest. For days he stayed there, hiding from Brahmadatta’s men while grieving for his parents.
At last, the danger and the tears had passed, and Dighavu entered the city once more. At the royal elephant stables, he took work as an apprentice.
And so it was one morning that Dighavu rose early, sat before the stables, and sang to greet the dawn. His voice drifted to the palace and to the balcony of King Brahmadatta, who had also risen early, wakened by a fearful dream.
“How lovely,” said the king. “I have need of such music to ease my mind.”
He sent for the singer, and Dighavu was brought before him.
“Sing for me,” said Brahmadatta, not knowing who the young man was.
Dighavu sang, and the king’s heart was gladdened. Then Brahmadatta told him, “Stay with me.”
And Dighavu answered, “As you wish, my lord.”
So Dighavu became the king’s attendant. And since the young man’s conduct was agreeable and his words pleasing, the king grew ever more fond of him, bestowing on him more and more responsibility and trust.
Then came a day when Brahmadatta desired to go hunting. And he told Dighavu, “Today you will drive my chariot.”
And Dighavu replied, “It is an honor, my lord.”
So Dighavu that day drove the chariot of the king. But as the hunters pursued their quarry, Dighavu cleverly took a path that led away. He brought the king far from the sight and hearing of the others.
At last Brahmadatta said, “I wish to stop and rest.”
Dighavu dismounted and sat cross-legged on the ground. And he told the king, “Come rest yourself, my lord.”
So the king laid his head in the cradle of Dighavu’s legs, and slept.
Dighavu gripped his sword and drew it slowly from its sheath. He pointed the blade at the throat of Brahmadatta. And then there came to him the words of his father.
Be not shortsighted.
Be not longsighted.
Not by violence is violence ended.
Violence is ended by nonviolence.

The sword of Dighavu trembled. He drew it slowly away and replaced it in its sheath.
Brahmadatta breathed heavily and opened wide his eyes and sat up in alarm.
“What is wrong, my lord?” asked Dighavu.
“It is a dream that often plagues me,” said the king. “I see Dighavu, the son of my enemies, coming at me with his sword to avenge his parents.”
Then Dighavu clutched the king’s hair, dragged his head back down, and drew his sword. “I am Dighavu, son of your enemies, and here am I to avenge my parents!”
“Have mercy, dear Dighavu! Grant me my life!”
“How can I grant your life?” replied Dighavu. “Truly is it said, we may forgive those who hurt us, but we never forgive those we hurt. You have killed my mother and my father, and would surely kill me too. So the life to be granted is mine!”
“Then grant me my life,” said Brahmadatta, “and I will grant you yours!”
So Dighavu released the king and put away his sword. And the two rose and clasped their hands and swore never again to seek the other’s harm.
Then Brahmadatta said, “I have often pondered your father’s final words. Tell me, Dighavu, what did he mean when he told you, ‘Be not shortsighted.’?”
“My father meant, ‘Do not be quick to spurn a gift of friendship.’”
“And what did he mean when he told you, ‘Be not longsighted.’?”
“My father meant, ‘Do not allow your hate to last too long.’”
“And what did he mean when he told you, ‘Not by violence is violence ended. Violence is ended by nonviolence.’?”
“My father meant this: You, my lord, have killed my parents and stolen their kingdom. If I were to kill you in revenge, your allies would kill me, and then my allies would kill them, and so on, with no end to violence. But now instead, you have granted my life and I have granted yours. So violence is at an end.”
Then the king marveled at the wisdom of Dighavu, who understood in full what his father said in brief.
Indeed, so great was Brahmadatta’s admiration and his gratitude, he soon restored to Dighavu the kingdom of his father. And as long as both kings lived, all quarrels between them were resolved in friendship and good will.

About the Story

The full story is found in the tenth chapter of the Mahavagga, an ancient Buddhist text concerned with monastic discipline. Pieces and summaries of the story are found in the Jataka, a collection of fables, and in the Dhammapadatthakatha, a commentary by Buddhaghosa on the Dhammapada.
Brahmadatta is a legendary king mentioned in many Buddhist tales. Dighiti and Dighavu seem to be characters created just for this story, since their names describe their conditions—Dighiti meaning “long-suffering” and Dighavu meaning “long-lived.” Dighiti’s queen, here called Deva, is unnamed in the sources.
I was first introduced to this tale in the late 1970s by Paul Carus’s The Gospel of the Buddha. Key references for my retelling included:
Vinaya Texts, Part 2, translated by T. W. Rhys Davids and Hermann Oldenberg, Oxford University, 1882 (Volume 17 of The Sacred Books of the East, edited by F. Max Muller), pp. 291–306 (from the Tenth Khandhaka of the Mahavagga).
The Jataka, or Stories of the Buddha’s Former Births, Volume 3, translated by H. T. Francis and R. A. Neil, edited by E. B. Cowell, Cambridge University, 1897, pp. 139–140 (#371) and 289–291 (#428).
Buddhist Legends (translation of Buddhaghosa’s Dhammapadatthakatha), translated by Eugene Watson Burlingame, Harvard University, Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1921 (Volume 28 of the Harvard Oriental Series, edited by Charles Rockwell Lanman), pp. 176–177.
The Gospel of the Buddha, compiled and retold by Paul Carus, Open Court, Lasalle, Illinois, 1915, pp. 104–108 and the glossary.
The legend described in the introductory note comes from:
The Jataka, or Stories of the Buddha’s Former Births, Volume 5, translated by H. T. Francis, edited by E. B. Cowell, Cambridge University, 1897, pp. 219–220 (#536).
For help with this retelling, I would like to thank the many students, teachers, and librarians who took part in my Internet program Works in Progress during the first half of 1995. The comments I received were invaluable in guiding my revisions.

How to Say the Names

(General hint: If an h follows a d, pretend it isn’t there.)
Benares ~ ben-AR-ess
Brahmadatta ~ BRAH-ma-DAH-ta
Deva ~ DAY-va
Dighavu ~ dee-GAH-voo (hard g)
Dighiti ~ dee-GEE-tee (hard g)

The Monkey King: A Superhero Tale of China

If you think Superman or Spiderman has been around a long time, think about Monkey. He has been China’s favorite superhero for at least five centuries. He’s amazingly strong, he can fly, and he has a few tricks those other superheroes never heard of. And he’s always ready to do battle with demons, dragons—sometimes even the gods.
Monkey stars in The Journey to the West, an epic comic fantasy from the sixteenth century. The part retold here is about Monkey’s origin and early career—and the one time he didn’t come out on top.

Prologue:
From Out of Stone

Book 
cover: The Monkey KingFar across the Eastern Sea, on the island called the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit, a magic boulder had sat on the mountain’s peak since the creation of the world. Bathed in the energies of Earth and Heaven, quickened by the light of Sun and Moon, the stone became fertile, and at last cracked open to release its young.
From this stone egg emerged a full-grown monkey. As it gazed about and above, golden light shot from its eyes to the farthest reaches of Heaven and Earth.
* * *
High above in Heaven, the Jade Emperor, Ruler of Heaven and Earth, was startled by the rays of light reaching his Celestial Throne.
“See what’s causing that,” he ordered his chief minister, the Spirit of the Great White Planet Venus.
The Great White Planet went to look out the East Gate of Heaven and soon returned with his report. “Your Majesty, a stone has given birth to a monkey. The rays of light came from its eyes. But now that the monkey has taken food, the light is fading.”
The Jade Emperor sighed. “Only a monkey, is it? Well, we have important business here. A monkey is no concern of ours.”
* * *
Elsewhere in Heaven, Lord Lao Tzu, Supreme Patriarch of the Way, was refining Elixir of Life, when just for a moment the golden rays penetrated his alchemy laboratory.
“Such a powerful beam!” murmured Lao Tzu in wonder. “The one who produced it will surely become an Immortal!”
* * *
Far off in the Western Paradise, the Buddha paused in his blessed discourse to his disciples as the rays of light shone into the temple hall. He closed his eyes a moment in silent meditation, then turned to Kwan Yin, Most Compassionate Bodhisattva and Goddess of Mercy.
“A remarkable creature has been born: a monkey, yet not an ordinary one. I see he is destined to become an enlightened being, a true Buddha. Yet before he does, he will offer us no end of mischief.”
And so saying, he resumed his blessed discourse.

1
The Birthday Quest

Book 
cover: The Monkey KingOn the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit, in the Heavenly Cave of the Water Curtain, the island monkeys were feasting to celebrate the birthday of their king. But the Monkey King himself sat there gloomily.
“What’s wrong, Your Majesty?” asked an old gibbon.
“Here I am, only four hundred years old,” said the Monkey King, “and I’ve already reached the heights of greatness. What is left to hope and strive for? What can be higher than a king?”
“Your Majesty,” said the gibbon carefully, “we have ever been grateful for that time four centuries ago when you hatched from the stone, wandered into our midst, and found for us this hidden cave behind the waterfall. We made you our king as the greatest honor we could bestow. Still, I must tell you that kings are not the highest of beings.”
“They’re not?” said the Monkey King.
“No, Your Majesty. Above them are gods, who dwell in Heaven and govern Earth. Then there are Immortals, who have gained great powers and live forever. And finally there are Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, who have conquered illusion and escaped rebirth.”
“Wonderful!” cried the Monkey King. “Maybe I can become all three!” He considered a moment, then said, “I think I’ll start with the Immortals. I’ll search the earth till I’ve found one, then learn to become one myself!”
The very next morning, the Monkey King ordered a pine raft to be built and loaded with fruit for the journey. Then he took leave of his cheering subjects, floated downstream to the island’s edge, and started across the great sea.

2
Meeting the Master

Book 
cover: The Monkey KingOn the Mountain of Heart and Mind, the Monkey King stood before a double door in the mountainside. Beside it was a huge stone tablet carved in ancient characters.
DIVINE CAVE OF THE THREE STARS
“This is the place!” said the Monkey King. “Right where the woodcutter told me. I just hope I look all right in these human clothes.” He glanced down at what he’d gathered on his journey—black boots, red robe, and yellow sash.
Just then, one of the doors opened and a young man peered out at him. “You can’t be the one!” he exclaimed in horror.
“What one?” asked the Monkey King.
“My master, the Patriarch Subodhi, just mounted the dais to deliver the day’s discourse. But instead of starting, he told me to open the door, because someone had come who wished to study the Way.”
“That’s me!” said the Monkey King.
“You don’t say!” said the young man, laughing. “Then come along.”
They walked down a stone corridor and into a large chamber, where thirty or forty disciples faced a dais made of jade. Sitting cross-legged on the platform was a man who looked as old as Heaven, yet strong and healthy. His flowing beard trailed away behind him.
“Master!” cried the Monkey King, dropping to his knees and knocking his head on the floor. “Please accept this humble seeker as your disciple!”
“Humble, is it?” said the Patriarch. “We’ll see about that! But tell me, what is your name?”
“I have no name, Master, for I had no parents to give me one. I was born from a magic stone.”
“Most unusual,” said the Patriarch thoughtfully. “Well, what if I name you ‘Monkey’?”
“Master, what an ingenious idea! It fits me perfectly!”
“Then ‘Monkey’ it is,” said the Patriarch. “And for now, you may stay and learn with the others—just as long as you keep out of trouble!”
* * *
So Monkey became a student of the Way. Each day, he studied scriptures, discussed doctrine, and listened to the discourse of the Patriarch. The rest of the time, he swept the cave, helped in the vegetable garden and orchard, gathered firewood, and carried water from the stream. Days went by, then weeks, then months, then years.
One day during the Patriarch’s discourse, Monkey grew so excited that he could not contain himself. With his eyes closed, he got up on all fours and began leaping and turning.
“Stop that!” roared the Patriarch. “Monkey, why are you prancing about?”
“Forgive me, Master!” said Monkey. “I was so happy to hear your words, I danced without knowing it!”
“Is that so!” said the Patriarch, looking at Monkey thoughtfully. “You’ve been here seven years now, I believe. Tell me, what branch of the Way do you wish to learn from me?”
“Master,” said Monkey, “you know how ignorant I am. Anything you want to teach me is fine.”
“What if I teach you the Way of the Seventy-Two Changes? You’ll then be able to turn yourself into anything you want.”
“Wonderful!” said Monkey.
So the Patriarch whispered into Monkey’s ear.
For three months, Monkey practiced the techniques in private. Then one day, as he walked back from his chores in the orchard, the Patriarch came up to him.
“Monkey, how are you doing with those tidbits I taught you?”
“Just fine, Master,” said Monkey. “I can now accomplish all of the Seventy-Two Changes. But tell me, Master, will this make me immortal?”
“Not likely!” said the Patriarch.
“Then I beg you to teach me more.”
“All right,” said the Patriarch. “What about Cloud Soaring? You’ll then be able to travel quickly wherever you want.”
“Marvelous!” said Monkey.
The Patriarch explained, “When Immortals or Buddhas or gods want to travel great distances, they ride on magic clouds. They rise to the cloud by stamping one foot, and stamp it again to move the cloud forward. But you’re built differently. So instead, let’s try the Cloud Somersault.”
Then the Patriarch taught Monkey how to somersault high into the air, land on a magic cloud, and propel it across the sky with more somersaults.
Another three months passed while Monkey practiced. Soon he could travel for hundreds of miles with each somersault. Then one day the Patriarch paused in his discourse and addressed Monkey again from the dais.
“Monkey, how are you doing with that little trick I taught you?”
“Very well, Master. But tell me, will this make me immortal?”
“I should say not!”
“Then please, Master, teach me more!”
The Patriarch jumped from the dais and stalked angrily up to Monkey. “You greedy creature! Will you never be satisfied? Will you never stop demanding?”
He thumped Monkey on the head three times. Then, with his hands held behind his back, he stomped into his private chamber and slammed the door.
“Stupid ape!” yelled one of the disciples. “You’ve upset the Master!”
“Yes,” said another, “and who knows when he’ll come out again!”
But Monkey just sat there grinning.
Late that night, Monkey crept from the disciples’ sleeping place, out the front door of the cave, and around to the back. There he found the Patriarch’s door left open a crack.
“Come in, Monkey,” came the Patriarch’s voice.
Monkey slipped inside. In the candlelight, he saw the Patriarch sitting cross-legged on his cot.
The Patriarch smiled. “I see you understood my secret signs.”
“Yes, Master. I knew that hitting me three times meant to come here in the third watch of the night. And holding your hands behind you meant to use the back door. I came just as you instructed.”
“In that case,” said the Patriarch, “it’s your destiny to learn the Way of Immortality. Come close, my disciple, and hear the secrets of Eternal Life.”
And so the Patriarch revealed his precious wisdom. But what he said must not be written here.
* * *
For three years Monkey practiced the secret techniques. His body grew hard and enduring and full of powerful energies. Then one day, he was sitting with the other disciples outside the cave.
“Monkey,” said one of them, “what is that nonsense about the ‘Seventy-Two Changes’? Can you really turn yourself into something else?”
“I certainly can,” said Monkey proudly.
“We won’t believe it till we see it,” said another.
“Then just watch this,” said Monkey. He called out, “Change!” And there in place of Monkey stood a unicorn!
“Bravo! Bravo!” yelled the students. They cheered and applauded as Monkey changed back and took a bow.
Just then, the Patriarch Subodhi burst from the cave. “What’s all this noise?” he shouted. “Don’t you know that followers of the Way never shout?”
“We’re sorry, Master,” said Monkey. “I was just showing them one of my changes.”
The Patriarch turned white. “Away, all of you—except Monkey!”
When they were alone, the Patriarch turned on his disciple. “Is that how you use your powers—to show off? Don’t you realize the others will be jealous? They’re sure to come and demand your secrets. And if you refuse, they may seek revenge!”
“Master, I’m sorry!” said Monkey. “I didn’t think!”
“Well, I won’t punish you,” said the Patriarch. “But you’re not safe here any longer, so you’ll have to leave.”
“Master, where would I go?” said Monkey in alarm.
“That’s your business,” said the Patriarch. “But on your way, you’d better pick up a magic weapon for protection. The Dragon King of the Eastern Sea might have something useful.”
“But, Master,” said Monkey with tears in his eyes, “how can I leave without repaying all your kindness?”
“Don’t do me any favors,” said the Patriarch. “Once you’re gone, you’re bound to land in serious trouble. Just keep my name out of it, and don’t you dare tell anyone you’re my disciple!”
“Master, I promise,” said Monkey. “Good-bye, Master.” Then he somersaulted into the air, landed on a magic cloud, and flew off, head over heels.

3
The Dragon King’s Gift

Book 
cover: The Monkey KingAt the bottom of the Eastern Sea, before the green jade palace of the Dragon King, Monkey marched up to a cowrie shell gate where a Dragon Captain stood guard. The captain stared in amazement.
“I’m here to see the Dragon King,” declared Monkey. “Tell him it’s the Monkey King from the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit. And be quick about it!”
“Yes, sir!” said the captain, saluting smartly.
In a few minutes, the captain was ushering Monkey into the throne room.
“Welcome, brother,” said the Dragon King stiffly. “How kind of you to pay this most unexpected visit.”
“Don’t mention it,” said Monkey.
“Tell me, brother,” said the Dragon King, “how did you gain the art of living under water?”
“I’ve studied the magic arts of the Way for many years,” said Monkey. “In fact, that’s why I’m here! Now that I’m an Immortal, I need a magic weapon to match my abilities. Can you spare one?”
“An Immortal!” remarked the Dragon King. “Well now, perhaps I can find one for you. Captain, bring out the Scimitar of the Waning Moon.”
The captain fetched a large scimitar. Monkey took it and made a few passes at the air. “Too light! Too light!”
The Dragon King laughed. “Brother, you must be joking. That scimitar weighs nearly a hundred pounds!”
“It just doesn’t feel right,” said Monkey.
The Dragon King looked somewhat alarmed. “Captain, bring out the Battle-Ax of the Noonday Sun.”
The captain brought it out, and Monkey swung it a few times. “Still too light. Way too light!”
Now the Dragon King looked really frightened. “Brother, that weapon is over a thousand pounds!”
“I need more weight!” declared Monkey. “Don’t you have anything heavier?”
“I assure you,” said the Dragon King, “that’s the heaviest weapon in the palace!”
Just then, the Dragon Queen entered from a door behind the throne, bowed graciously to Monkey, then spoke low to the king. “This monkey is no ordinary fellow. Perhaps you should give him the giant stamping rod in your treasury.”
“That old piece of scrap?” whispered the Dragon King. “What could he do with it?”
“That’s his concern, not ours,” hissed the queen. “Just give it to him and get him out of the palace!”
The queen bowed graciously to Monkey and took her leave.
The Dragon King cleared his throat nervously. “I remember now that in my treasury is an iron rod once belonging to Yu the Great. He used it to pound down the beds of the rivers and seas in the time of the Great Flood. Perhaps it will meet your needs.”
“Bring it out and we’ll have a look,” said Monkey.
“I’m afraid that’s impossible,” said the Dragon King. “It weighs ten tons, and not one of us can lift it! We’ll have to go ourselves to see it.”
The Dragon King led Monkey across a courtyard and into the treasury, then pointed out a pillar of black iron. It was twenty feet high and as thick as a barrel, and both ends were tipped with gold. As Monkey approached, the pillar began to glow.
“It likes me!” said Monkey.
He examined the pillar closely and found characters inscribed near the bottom band.
CELESTIAL STAFF OF THE OBEDIENT IRON
Monkey put both hands on the pillar and lifted it. The Dragon King gasped.
“The weight seems right,” said Monkey. “If only it were smaller.”
At once, the staff shrank to 15 feet and became thinner too.
“Wonderful!” said Monkey. “It really is obedient! But even smaller would be nice.”
It shrank to 10 feet.
“Almost there,” said Monkey.
Five feet.
“Perfect!” said Monkey. He hefted the staff and declared, “It weighs the same as before!”
As they returned through the courtyard, Monkey tried some practice thrusts and parries. The Dragon King turned pale and jumped out of range. “Brother, please be careful!”
Monkey said, “I believe this little beauty will do anything I want.” He called out, “Grow!” Both Monkey and the staff shot up to over two hundred feet tall.
“Take this! And that!” he shouted, swinging at an imaginary foe. The water swirled so furiously, it nearly swept away the Dragon King.
Then Monkey called “Shrink!” Monkey and staff returned swiftly to normal height. “Smaller!”—and the staff alone became the size of a needle. Monkey lodged it safely in his ear.
He turned to the Dragon King, who was now trembling violently. “Thank you, brother! You’ve been a most gracious host!”
“Don’t mention it,” said the Dragon King.
And with a leap and a somersault, Monkey was gone.

4
Death’s Domain

Book 
cover: The Monkey KingOn the surface of the Eastern Sea, not far from the Dragon King’s palace, Monkey landed lightly on a barren rock that jutted above the waves. Stretching himself out on it, he yawned and then studied the sky.
“Now that I’m an Immortal, I think I’ll fly up to Heaven and become a god as well. But that’s all after a good nap.”
He closed his eyes and quickly drifted into sleep.
All at once Monkey felt himself jerked to his feet. Two men were clutching his elbows. One man had the face of a horse, the other had the head of an ox.
Horse Face held an official document, which he studied closely. “Is your name Monkey?”
“That’s right,” said Monkey, in a daze.
“All right,” said Ox Head, “get moving!”
They started to drag him off. Stumbling once, Monkey happened to glance back. There he saw himself, still lying on the ground!
They rounded the rock and started across a desolate plain. The sea was nowhere in sight. “Where is this?” he asked. “And how did I get here?”
“He wants to know how he got here!” snorted Horse Face.
“You got here the same way as everyone!” said Ox Head.
After a while they came to the wall of a city. Above the gate was an iron placard with characters inlaid in gold.
DEMON GATE OF THE LAND OF DARKNESS
“Land of Darkness?” exclaimed Monkey, at last coming fully awake. “But that’s the realm of Yama, Lord of the Dead! I don’t belong here!”
“That’s what they all say!” said Horse Face.
“But I’m an Immortal!” protested Monkey. “I’ve gone beyond death!”
“Tell it to the judge!” said Ox Head.
“All right, I will!” said Monkey, snatching his staff from its hiding place in his ear. “Grow!” he cried, and in half a moment he was swinging five feet of it.
“We didn’t mean it!” cried Horse Face, fleeing through the gate.
“Can’t you take a joke?” said Ox Head, racing after.
Monkey followed them in, still swinging his staff. The demons of the city were terrified, and not one of them dared get in his way. By the time Monkey reached the Palace of Darkness, Lord Yama and the other nine Judges of the Dead were waiting on the steps.
“Sir, what seems to be the trouble?” asked Yama nervously.
“The trouble?” said Monkey. “The trouble is you’ve brought me here!”
“But sir, I assure you,” said Yama, “you will be judged fairly and punished—I mean, re-educated—strictly according to your past deeds. Then when the evil you’ve done has been avenged—I mean, corrected—you’ll be returned to the Land of Light for a brand new life.”
“I don’t want to be reborn!” said Monkey. “I don’t want to die in the first place! Don’t you realize I’m an Immortal?”
“An Immortal!” said Yama in consternation. “There must be some mistake!”
“Exactly!” said Monkey. “I demand to see the Register of Life and Death.”
Yama led him into the Hall of Darkness, where a clerk dragged out several musty volumes. Monkey searched till he found his name.
“Writing brush!” commanded Monkey, and the clerk gave him one dipped in ink. Monkey blotted his name from the register. “That should do it,” he said.
“This is most irregular!” protested Yama.
“Tell it to the judge!” said Monkey. He slammed the book shut and rushed out. Then he made his way back to the city wall, swinging his staff as he went.
Just outside the gate, Monkey tripped and fell rolling. When he opened his eyes, he was back on the rock in the Eastern Sea.
“Wonderful!” cried Monkey as he jumped to his feet. “Next stop: Heaven.”

5
The Emperor of All

Book 
cover: The Monkey KingHigh above in Heaven, at the Cloud Palace of the Golden Doors, in the Hall of Divine Mist, the Jade Emperor, Ruler of Heaven and Earth, was having a bad day.
He had spent his whole morning stamping his official seal on documents promoting or demoting heavenly officials. In the afternoon his wife, the Lady Queen Mother, had demanded his help with the invitation list for the Grand Banquet of Immortal Peaches. And now both the Dragon King of the Eastern Sea and Yama, Lord of the Dead, stood before him complaining of some kind of monkey who had become immortal, with power enough to threaten them both.
“I’ll see to it at once,” said the Jade Emperor. “Now, both of you, please return to your kingdoms.”
No sooner had the Dragon King and Yama left the hall than a lieutenant rushed in and bowed to the ground.
“Your Majesty, there’s trouble at the East Gate. A talking monkey arrived there an hour ago and demanded entrance. Four of our guards engaged him in combat, but he is holding them all off with a simple staff.”
“Indeed,” said the Jade Emperor, raising an imperial eyebrow. “This must be the monkey Immortal that was reported to us.” He turned to his commander-in-chief, the Heavenly General of Mighty Miracle. “Round up the twelve Thunder Generals and arrest the fiend.”
But the Spirit of the Great White Planet Venus stepped forward and said, “Your Majesty, as your chief minister, I must point out that this monkey’s deeds may not yet merit such a response. Would it not be better simply to invite him into Heaven and offer him a position? Then we could keep an eye on him and avoid further trouble.”
“An excellent idea,” said the Jade Emperor. “You may go at once to extend the invitation.”
The Great White Planet soon returned with Monkey and bowed low before the Celestial Throne. “Your Majesty, I have brought the Immortal.”
“Remarkable,” said the Jade Emperor, looking Monkey up and down.
“Glad to meet you too!” said Monkey. “So, what’s it like, running the universe?”
A gasp went up from the Great White Planet and from the other court officials. The Jade Emperor stared icily at Monkey. “In light of your primitive background and the recentness of your arrival, I will overlook your ignorance of court etiquette.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty!” said Monkey. “I knew we’d get along.”
“Now, in regard to a post,” said the Jade Emperor, “my officials tell me the only current vacancy is as a supervisor in the Imperial Stables.”
“Sounds important!” said Monkey. “I’ll take it!”
“Very good,” said the Jade Emperor. “Henceforth, your title shall be ‘Protector of Horses.’”
“‘Protector of Horses,’” said Monkey dreamily. “Thank you, Your Majesty!” And as the Great White Planet pulled him quickly from the hall, he called back, “You won’t be sorry!”
“I’m not so sure about that,” muttered the Jade Emperor.

6
Havoc in Heaven

Book 
cover: The Monkey KingAt the Imperial Stables of the Jade Emperor, a banquet of welcome and congratulation was being held for the new Protector of Horses. In just a few weeks of Monkey’s care, the thousand heavenly coursers and chargers had begun to grow sleek and muscular. The officials under him liked him as well, and so had gathered in his honor.
“What a wonderful feast!” said Monkey as he sampled all the dishes. “I certainly like the food here in Heaven!”
“This isn’t bad,” said his chief assistant wistfully. “Still, it’s nothing compared to the food at the Grand Banquet of Immortal Peaches.”
“What’s that?” asked Monkey.
“Each year the Lady Queen Mother holds a banquet at the Pavilion of the Jade Pool. Her guests all dine on Immortal Peaches grown in her orchard. Each peach has ripened for nine thousand years and adds that many years to the life of the one who eats it. And for dessert, they have Pills of Immortality, made from Elixir of Life refined by Lord Lao Tzu in the Crucible of the Eight Trigrams. A single pill will guarantee eternal life.”
“I can hardly wait!” said Monkey. “When is the banquet?”
“Today,” said the assistant.
“But I haven’t had an invitation,” said Monkey.
“Of course not,” said the assistant. “Your post is too low.”
“What do you mean?” said Monkey in alarm. “I thought Protector of Horses was a high-ranking position.”
“On the contrary,” said the assistant. “It’s so low, it has no rank at all!”
Monkey was stunned. “So that’s what they think of me, is it? Me! The Monkey King! Well, I won’t stand for it! I’ll go to the banquet whether they want me or not!”
He rushed outside, somersaulted onto a cloud, and sped off.
* * *
At the Pavilion of the Jade Pool, servants ran about, busily setting the tables. From where he had landed nearby, Monkey could see trays loaded with Immortal Peaches, and bowls brimming with Pills of Immortality. There were also large pitchers filled with juice of jade, and heaping plates of delicacies like unicorn liver and phoenix marrow.
Monkey’s mouth watered. “I won’t bother waiting for the other guests,” he said. “Change!”—and he became an exact image of the Spirit of the Great White Planet Venus.
Monkey stepped into the pavilion and announced in the chief minister’s voice, “A command from the Jade Emperor! You are all to go to the Cloud Palace of the Golden Doors for further instructions.”
“What in Heaven could that be about?” said the head steward. “All right, we’d better not dally.” And all the servants rushed off.
As soon as Monkey was alone, he changed back to himself and started grabbing peaches right and left. They tasted so heavenly, he wanted to eat them all—but since there were so many, he took just a bite or two from each one. He guzzled the jade juice and bolted down whole plates of delicacies. And he popped Pills of Immortality into his mouth like peanuts.
“At last!” he said. “A feast fit for a Monkey King!”
* * *
At the Cloud Palace of the Golden Doors, in the Hall of Divine Mist, the guests of the Lady Queen Mother had gathered to await the Grand Banquet of Immortal Peaches. Nearly all of the most important divinities were there, including ministers from all departments of the heavenly administration, heavenly generals, many star and constellation spirits, and a number of Bodhisattvas and Immortals. Seated beside the Jade Emperor and the Lady Queen Mother were Lord Lao Tzu, Supreme Patriarch of the Way, and Kwan Yin, Most Compassionate Bodhisattva and Goddess of Mercy.
As the Jade Emperor conversed with the guests, the head steward entered and bowed low before the Celestial Throne. “Your Majesty, your servants are assembled outside the hall, awaiting your instructions for the banquet.”
“Instructions?” said the Jade Emperor. “I have none to give!”
“But, Your Majesty,” said the steward, “the venerable Spirit of the Great White Planet Venus commanded us in your name to come and receive them!”
“The Great White Planet has been here the whole time, and I gave no such order!” The Jade Emperor turned to his commander-in-chief, the Heavenly General of Mighty Miracle. “Go at once to the Pavilion of the Jade Pool and find out what’s behind this. And take along the twelve Thunder Generals, in case there’s trouble.”
* * *
At the Pavilion of the Jade Pool, Monkey had eaten as much as he possibly could and was patting his stomach in satisfaction. But a moment later he looked nervously at the scene around him.
“I don’t think I’ll win any friends this way!” he said. “I’d better clear out before I’m spotted.”
But just then the Heavenly General of Mighty Miracle ran up with the twelve Thunder Generals. “Monstrous monkey!” he bellowed. “You’ve ruined the Grand Banquet of Immortal Peaches!”
“There’s not much doubt about that!” said Monkey, with a sheepish grin. “But what are you going to do about it?”
“You sickening simian!” roared Mighty Miracle. “Have a taste of my battle-ax!”
Mighty Miracle rushed at Monkey, who grabbed his staff from his ear and called, “Grow!” Just in time, he blocked the swing of Mighty Miracle’s ax.
“You’ll have to do better than that!” said Monkey.
Mighty Miracle swung again and again, but Monkey parried every blow. Soon they were moving so fast, their arms were just a blur.
Mighty Miracle bellowed, “Let’s see if you can face my magic powers! Grow!”—and he shot up to over a hundred feet tall.
“I know that trick too!” called Monkey. “Grow!”—and he was once more face to face with his opponent.
The noise of their battle was deafening, and their movements raised a wind that nearly blew away the twelve Thunder Generals. But neither could gain an advantage.
All at once Monkey cried, “Shrink!” and somersaulted into the air. At normal size, he sailed right by Mighty Miracle’s battle-ax. He brought his staff down squarely on the Heavenly General’s shoulder as he passed over it.
Mighty Miracle roared with pain, then quickly shrank to normal size and retreated.
Now the twelve Thunder Generals surrounded Monkey and attacked him with their battle-axes, swords, lances, halberds, maces, and scimitars. Monkey whirled like a top, countering every blow. But after a while he grew tired.
“This is hardly a fair fight!” he said. “But here’s a trick you haven’t seen yet!”
He yanked a dozen hairs from his tail, threw them in the air, and cried, “Change!” Each hair became a monkey that swung an iron staff against one of the Thunder Generals.
“Now I can take a break!” said Monkey. He put his staff away in his ear and stood grinning in the midst of the battle.
At that moment, the Imperial Chariot arrived at the pavilion with the Jade Emperor, the Lady Queen Mother, Lord Lao Tzu, and Kwan Yin.
The Jade Emperor was aghast. “What did I tell you! It’s that fiendish monkey again!”
“Just look at my banquet!” cried the Lady Queen Mother. “It’s a complete disaster!”
“Your Majesty,” said Kwan Yin to the Jade Emperor, “it appears that your generals could use a bit of help in dealing with the Immortal. Will you permit me?”
“Most Compassionate Bodhisattva,” said the Jade Emperor, “I am grateful for your offer. But I must point out that you have no weapon.”
“I have this porcelain vase of willow twigs, which I always carry with me,” replied Kwan Yin. “Allow me to show you how useful it can be.”
Kwan Yin stamped her foot, rose a hundred feet in the air, and landed on a magic cloud. Then taking careful aim, she dropped her vase right onto Monkey’s head.
Monkey dropped unconscious to the ground. The fighting monkeys at once changed back to hairs, returning to his tail.
Kwan Yin retrieved her vase and landed back in the chariot.
“Well done!” declared the Jade Emperor.
“It is not worth mentioning,” replied the Bodhisattva.
The Heavenly General of Mighty Miracle came up. “Your Majesty, what are your wishes regarding the Protector of Horses?”
“Take him at once to the execution block,” said the Jade Emperor. “Cut him into a thousand pieces!”
“Your Majesty,” said Lord Lao Tzu, “I’m afraid such a punishment is no longer possible. After eating so many of my Pills of Immortality, his body must be as hard as a diamond. No weapon could pierce or even scratch it.”
“Then what are we to do with him?” asked the Jade Emperor in dismay.
“Perhaps I can be of service,” said Lao Tzu. “Hand him over to me, and I’ll heat him in my Crucible of the Eight Trigrams. In just an hour his body will be consumed to ash—and at the same time, I can recover my elixir.”
“I accept your kind and considerate offer,” said the Jade Emperor. “We will return to the palace to await word of your success.”

7
The Buddha’s Bet

Book 
cover: The Monkey KingIn the alchemy laboratory of the Cinnabar Palace, Lord Lao Tzu, Supreme Patriarch of the Way, dumped Monkey into the Crucible of the Eight Trigrams, clamped down the lid, and lifted the crucible onto the hearth.
“Stoke up the fire as high as you can,” he told his assistant. “We’ll need the greatest heat possible to refine this villain.”
Meanwhile, Monkey was starting to come to. “What hit me?” he wondered, rubbing his sore head. “And where in Heaven have they taken me?”
He groped around in the dark. “It’s some kind of porcelain pot, and it’s getting warm! Are they trying to bake me? Or burn me to ashes? Well, I won’t let them do it!”
Monkey pushed and kicked at the lid, but it wouldn’t give. Then he took the miniature staff from his ear, held it pointing up, and said, “Grow!”
In a flash the staff enlarged to five feet, pushing against the bottom of the crucible and shattering the top. As Monkey jumped out, he knocked over the astonished Supreme Patriarch, sending him head over heels.
Monkey ran in a blind rage all the way from the Cinnabar Palace to the Cloud Palace of the Golden Doors, brandishing his staff at every heavenly official along the way. At the palace steps he found the Heavenly General of Mighty Miracle and the twelve Thunder Generals, who all grew pale at the sight of him.
“So you thought you could do away with the Monkey King!” shouted Monkey. “Well, here’s a message for the Jade Emperor: I’m no longer the Protector of Horses. I’m now the Great Sage Equal to Heaven. And he’s no longer the Jade Emperor, because I’m taking over! If he doesn’t step down from the Celestial Throne, I’ll come and pull him off it!”
* * *
In the Hall of Divine Mist, the Jade Emperor could hardly believe the message he had heard from the Heavenly General.
“The audacity of this wretched monkey knows no bounds!” he declared. “Gather as many soldiers as you need and wipe him out!”
“Your Majesty,” said the Heavenly General uneasily, “I fear we are unable to do so. The creature is too powerful a fighter for any single warrior to defeat. And if we send great numbers against him, he can easily outdo us with an army made from the hairs of his body. Even if we capture him again, we have no way to destroy or imprison him.”
“Just what are you telling me?” asked the Jade Emperor in amazement. “That I must give up my throne to this stinking monkey?”
“Your Majesty,” said Kwan Yin, “I don’t think it need come to that. There is still one who could defeat the rebellious Immortal and preserve your rule. Why not send to the Western Paradise and ask the assistance of the Buddha?”
The Jade Emperor said, “If the resources of Heaven are not enough to defeat this monster, I suppose I have no choice!”
Moments later, the Spirit of the Great White Planet Venus was speeding on a magic cloud out the West Gate of Heaven. It was not long before he reached the Western Paradise, where he landed on the Mountain of Miracles and entered the Temple of the Thunderclap.
The Buddha listened closely to the message of the Great White Planet. Then he turned to his disciples. “Remain steadfast in your practice of meditation until my return.”
* * *
Outside the Cloud Palace of the Golden Doors, Monkey marched up and down, swinging his staff, till his patience ran out.
“Time’s up!” he yelled at the quaking Thunder Generals. “I’m coming in!”
But just as he stepped forward, a magic cloud landed in front of him. Off it stepped a huge man in the robe of a monk.
“What’s this?” said Monkey. “Who are you, old monk, and why are you standing in my way?”
The man laughed. “I am Siddhartha, often called the Buddha. I am told you call yourself the Great Sage Equal to Heaven and even demand the Jade Emperor’s place on the Celestial Throne.”
“That’s right,” said Monkey. “He’s been there long enough. Someone else should get a turn.”
“The Jade Emperor,” said the Buddha, “has been perfecting himself through four million lifetimes, for over two hundred million years. And you’re not yet even fully human! What makes you think you’re suited to rule Heaven and Earth?”
“I have great powers,” said Monkey. “I’ve mastered the Seventy-Two Changes. And I can travel for hundreds of miles with a single somersault!”
“Indeed!” said the Buddha. “Then could you stand on the palm of my hand and somersault clear out of it?”
Monkey stared at the Buddha. “Enlightenment must have addled your brain! I just said I can somersault hundreds of miles. How could I not jump out of your palm?”
“Then wager with me,” said the Buddha. “If you get off my palm with a single somersault, the Celestial Throne will be yours. I’ll just tell the Jade Emperor to come live with me in the Western Paradise. But if you don’t make it off my palm, you’ll return to Earth and leave Heaven alone.”
“You can make good on your promise?” asked Monkey.
“Certainly,” said the Buddha.
“Then you’re on!”
Monkey put away his staff and jumped onto the Buddha’s palm, which was the size of a lotus leaf. Then he gave the mightiest leap of his life.
Head over heels Monkey tumbled through the air, spinning like a windmill for hundreds, thousands of miles. At last he came to five olive-colored pillars reaching high into the sky.
“This must be the end of Heaven,” he told himself, and he landed at the base of the middle pillar. “That bet wasn’t hard to win. But I’d better leave behind some proof.”
He plucked a hair from his tail and said, “Change!” The hair turned to a writing brush filled with ink, and Monkey wrote on the pillar,
MONKEY WAS HERE
He returned the hair to his tail, gave another mighty leap, and moments later landed back in the Buddha’s palm.
“All right, old monk,” said Monkey. “Now keep your part of the bargain and tell the Jade Emperor to clear out.”
“You impudent ape!” said the Buddha. “You’ve been on my palm the whole time!”
“What are you talking about?” said Monkey. “I somersaulted clear to the end of Heaven! If you don’t believe me, come see the proof for yourself.”
“There’s no need to go anywhere,” said the Buddha. “Just look down.”
Monkey looked down, and there at the base of the Buddha’s middle finger were the characters,
MONKEY WAS HERE
“It can’t be!” declared Monkey. “It’s some kind of trick! I’m going back to look for myself.”
But before Monkey could leap again, the Buddha turned his hand over, thrust Monkey out the West Gate of Heaven, and pushed him down to Earth. The hand turned into a five-peaked mountain which pinned Monkey between stone walls. His head and arms were out, but the rest of him was hopelessly trapped.
“You can’t do this to me!” cried Monkey. “I’m the Monkey King! I’m an Immortal! I’m the Great Sage Equal to Heaven! Let me out!”
He stopped to consider. Then he added, “Please?”

Epilogue:
To Stone Returned

Book 
cover: The Monkey KingHigh above in Heaven, outside the Cloud Palace of the Golden Doors, the Buddha was receiving profuse thanks and congratulations from the Jade Emperor, the Lady Queen Mother, and Lord Lao Tzu. But at last he said, “I must now return to my disciples in the Western Paradise.”
He turned to Kwan Yin, Most Compassionate Bodhisattva and Goddess of Mercy. “Would you care to accompany me?”
As the two flew west on magic clouds, Kwan Yin said gently, “No doubt the rebellious Immortal deserved a strict punishment. But wasn’t eternal imprisonment a bit harsh?”
“His punishment is not eternal,” replied the Buddha. “You may remember I once told you about this very monkey. He is destined to become an enlightened one, a Buddha.”
“And how will that come about?” asked Kwan Yin.
“Five hundred years from now,” said the Buddha, “I will need a messenger from the Middle Kingdom to come to the Western Paradise and carry back holy scriptures. It will be your own role to find a man or woman worthy of the task. At that time, too, you will recruit our penitent monkey friend to protect the messenger on the long and perilous journey. By doing so, the monkey will atone for his crimes and earn Enlightenment.”
“The compassion of the Buddha is beyond measure,” said Kwan Yin.
Buddha and Bodhisattva smiled at one another and touched hands lightly. Far ahead, the Temple of the Thunderclap gleamed in the setting sun.

About the Story

Book 
cover: The Monkey KingMonkey is the most popular figure in all Chinese literature, loved for centuries by young people and adults alike. His story is found in a classic sixteenth-century novel, The Journey to the West (Xi You Ji or Hsi Yu Chi), as well as in countless later adaptations, from Chinese opera to comic books.
The novel, written anonymously but often attributed to the humorist Wu Cheng’en, is an epic comic fantasy of 100 chapters. My retelling covers only the first seven chapters, which form a kind of prelude. The bulk of the novel recounts the journey of the Buddhist monk Sanzang to collect sacred scriptures from Buddha in the Western Paradise, aided by Monkey and several other magical creatures.
Monkey’s adventures provide a breathtaking, whirlwind tour of Chinese mythology, with its rich amalgam of Buddhist and Taoist elements. Here are notes on some of these.
Jade Emperor, Heaven. Though the Jade Emperor is ruler of Heaven and Earth, he is not so much a supreme God as a supreme administrator. In fact, he is outranked by the three top divine beings of the Chinese pantheon, Buddha, Lao Tzu, and Confucius—who are themselves subject to higher universal forces.
The Chinese Heaven is modeled closely on the government of the Chinese emperors. In other words, it is a bloated bureaucracy, crammed with innumerable officials with pompous titles, with a finger in every possible earthly activity.
Lao Tzu, Immortals, Patriarch Subodhi. Centuries before Taoism was established as an organized religion, it existed as a spiritual discipline similar to the yoga systems of India. (Tao is pronounced “DOW,” rhyming with “cow.”) The followers of this branch of Taoism, represented in the story by the Patriarch Subodhi and his disciples, were ascetics living in mountain hermitages. These ascetics aimed to become “Immortals” by developing conscious spirit bodies that could transcend death. But for most Chinese, this was simplified into the belief that Taoist masters achieved physical immortality.
The founder of Taoism is said to be Lao Tzu, who became known as a divine being. He is thought to have lived around the 5th or 6th century B.C., though we cannot be sure he actually lived at all. He is also supposed to have written the Tao Te Ching (“Book of the Way”), the primary text of Taoism and the most famous of all Chinese classics.
In Taoist literature, secrets of spiritual discipline were often coded in the metaphorical language of alchemy. Most Chinese, though, took this language literally. And so Lao Tzu and other Taoist figures were thought of as master alchemists, producing “Elixir of Life” and “pills of immortality.” Cinnabar, or mercuric sulfide—which I’ve used for the name of Lao Tzu’s palace—was a prime ingredient in such “alchemy.”
Buddha, Bodhisattva, Western Paradise. Buddha, or the Buddha, is the title given to Siddhartha Gautama, founder of Buddhism, now revered as a divine being. He lived in India from around 563 to around 483 B.C.
The title means “Enlightened One” or “Awakened One.” As such, it is often applied by Buddhists not only to Siddhartha but to all who attain his state of mind—a state that is said to bring a perception of the true nature of reality and a release from the need for additional lives. Bodhisattva is a related title for one who has become enlightened but remains on earth to help others toward that goal.
The Western Paradise is where good Buddhists are taken after death—a congenial place where they can progress more rapidly toward becoming Buddhas themselves. This is the teaching of the “Pure Land” school of Buddhism, which predominates in East Asia. In The Journey to the West, the Western Paradise is also the present home of the Buddha and seems to be somewhere in India.
Kwan Yin (or Kuan Yin, or Guan Yin). The Bodhisattva Kwan Yin, commonly called the Goddess of Mercy, is China’s favorite divine being—much more widely loved and worshiped than the Buddha, Lao Tzu, Confucius, the Jade Emperor, or any other. Her name means “heeding the cry.” She hears and helps all those who cry out to her in need, and also delivers babies to their mothers.
Dragon King of the Eastern Sea. In Chinese mythology, dragons are in most cases benevolent. They live underwater and are found in every good-sized lake and river. They can also fly, as they do while performing their main job, which is to bring rain.
There are four dragon kings, headed by the one in the Eastern Sea. Their magnificent palaces and treasure hordes are legendary.
Yama, Judges of the Dead, Land of Darkness. The Land of Darkness is the Chinese Hell. It is not underground but in a kind of parallel dimension. When people reach their fixed times of death, demon officials arrest their spirits and bring them before Lord Yama, the First Judge of the Dead. If their good deeds balance or outweigh their evil ones, they are sent directly to the Tenth Judge for rebirth. Otherwise, they must first pass before the other judges for punishment of various kinds of wrongdoing.
Especially good spirits might be brought to the Land of Darkness only briefly or not at all. They might be sent to Heaven to receive official posts, or to the Buddhist Western Paradise, or to Mount Kunlun, home of the Taoist Immortals.
Lady Queen Mother. In The Journey to the West, the Lady Queen Mother is the wife of the Jade Emperor and lives in Heaven. Elsewhere she is often known as the Queen Mother of the West, ruler of Mount Kunlun, home of the Taoist Immortals. In either case, she tends the orchard where the Immortal Peaches grow.
My retelling simplifies and shortens Monkey’s tale but broadly follows the original story line. The translations consulted were:
Monkey, by Wu Ch’êng-ên, translated by Arthur Waley, John Day, New York, 1943; reprinted by Grove, New York, 1958. Abridged.
The Journey to the West, translated and edited by Anthony C. Yu, University of Chicago, Chicago and London, 1977. Four volumes.
Journey to the West, by Wu Cheng’en, translated by W. J. F. Jenner, Foreign Languages Press, Beijing, 1982. Three volumes.

Lady White Snake: A Tale From Chinese Opera

The old tales of China tell us that all things may grow and change. A stone may become a plant. A plant may become an animal. An animal may become a human. A human may become a god.
Just so, a snake may become a woman. And we are told of one who did.
Who can say for sure how it began? Yet after centuries of ceaseless effort—meditating, disciplining herself, mastering the energies of the universe—this white snake took human form. Immortal now and with great powers, she longed for one thing more.
Human love.
* * *
Perhaps no spot in China is more lovely than the famed West Lake. Lying beside the city of Hangzhou, bordered by green hills, it is often compared to a painter’s landscape or a fabled beauty. Visitors from far and near stroll the banks and take boats across the water.
Among the strollers on one spring day was a lovely young lady dressed in white and her young maid in blue—or so they seemed. How could anyone know they were really a white snake and a blue snake in human form? Flying on clouds from their home on sacred Mount Emei, they had come to Hangzhou to sample the joys of the human world.
“It’s even more beautiful than I’d hoped,” said Lady White as they walked along. “Can you smell the peach blossoms? And look, Blue! Here’s the famous Broken Bridge.”
“But the bridge isn’t broken!” said Blue.
“That’s just what it’s called,” said Lady White, smiling. “Oh, sister, I’m so glad we came here from our cold and dreary mountain.”
As the sun passed behind dark clouds, they spotted a young man with an umbrella under his arm. “How handsome he is!” said Blue, and Lady White agreed. Her heart felt something she had never known before.
Just then it began to rain, and they took shelter under a willow. The young man, whose name was Xu Xian, noticed their predicament. “Ladies,” he said, “that willow won’t keep you dry! Please use my umbrella.”
“But, sir, you need it yourself,” said Lady White.
“Don’t worry about me,” he said. “Look, there’s a boat coming to shore. Let me hire the boatman to take us back to the city.”
As they crossed the lake, the ladies insisted that the young man sit close to share the umbrella. He and Lady White exchanged shy glances and spoke awkwardly, while Blue helped the conversation along and smiled in amused delight.
Before long, the boat reached the landing the ladies had asked for. By then the rain had stopped, but Blue pointed secretly skyward, and it started once again.
Just as hoped, the young man said, “Please, you must take the umbrella home with you. I’ll come for it tomorrow.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Lady White. “We will expect you. Please do not disappoint us!”
The next morning, Xu Xian visited the house where the ladies were staying. As Blue served tea and then wine, the young man told Lady White he was an orphan and had been returning from a visit to his mother’s grave when he met them. He lived with his sister and her husband and worked as an assistant in a shop for herbal medicine.
Pleased by his words and his manner, Lady White whispered to Blue and left the room. Blue said, “My mistress wants to know if you would like to marry her.”
In surprise, the young man said, “There’s nothing I’d like better! But with the little I earn, how could I support the three of us?”
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” said Blue. “My mistress has an inheritance from her father. Anyway, today is lucky, so you really should get married right away. You can tell your sister later, and that umbrella will do just fine as a gift for the bride. I’ll go ahead and light the candles.”
Almost before he knew it, Xu Xian was standing next to Lady White in her bridal gown. They bowed to Heaven and Earth, to their ancestors, and to each other. They were now husband and wife!
* * *
The newlyweds decided to move to the city of Zhenjiang and open an herb shop of their own. The shop was a great success, for Lady White could tell just what was wrong with a patient and just what compound to prescribe. What’s more, she showed great dedication in helping the sick, no matter how poor.
The two were supremely happy with their work and with each other. Adding to their joy, Lady White soon announced she was expecting a child.
One day when Lady White had gone off to rest, an old Buddhist monk entered the shop and spoke to Xu Xian. “I am Fahai, the abbot of Gold Mountain Temple,” he said. “I have come to warn you of a great danger. By my spiritual powers, I have discovered that your wife is a thousand-year-old snake. She hides her true nature for now, but one day she will surely turn on you and devour you.”
“How dare you say that!” said the young man. “It’s nothing but wicked slander!”
But Fahai told him, “Just make sure she drinks realgar wine for the Dragon Boat Festival. She’ll change back then to her true form, and you’ll see for yourself.”
Soon came the Dragon Boat Festival, when everyone drank wine mixed with foul-smelling realgar to drive away snakes. Knowing the danger to her kind, Lady White stayed in bed pretending to be ill. But Xu Xian called her out of the bedroom and said cheerily, “We mustn’t let the festival pass without sharing at least one cup of realgar wine!”
When his wife made excuses, he suddenly remembered Fahai’s warning and mentioned it as a joke. Lady White was horrified at this unexpected assault on their happiness. Afraid then to make her husband suspicious, and hoping by her powers to withstand the realgar, she drank one cup and then another.
Before she could drink a third, she began to retch. She quickly returned to the bedroom, while Xu Xian hurried out to prepare her some medicine. But when he came back with it, he found on the bed not his lovely wife but a huge white snake.
The young man collapsed to the floor, where Blue found him moments later. “Sister,” she called, “wake up! Your husband has died of shock!”
Lady White, again in human form, knelt by her husband and wept. Then she declared, “I will fly to Kunlun Mountain and steal a miracle mushroom from the gods. That and nothing else can bring him back to life.”
Taking both her own sword and Blue’s, Lady White flew swiftly on a cloud all the way to holy Kunlun Mountain. But just as she came upon one of the miracle mushrooms, she was challenged by Brown Deer, a guard serving the gods. “I beg you,” said Lady White, “spare one mushroom to save my husband’s life.”
“These mushrooms are not for mortals!” said Brown Deer.
He struck at her with his sword, but she met it with her own. “Then forgive me if I take one anyway,” she said. And she fought back until she wounded him.
Lady White picked the mushroom and turned to flee. But just then White Crane, another guard, joined the fight. Holding the mushroom in her mouth, and a sword in each hand, Lady White defended herself bravely. But she was no match for both guards together and was finally beaten to the ground.
As White Crane raised his sword for a final blow, the Old Man of the South appeared and called a halt. “How dare you steal from us!” the god demanded of Lady White. But he could not help admiring her devotion to her husband. For that and the child she was expecting, he pardoned her and let her take the mushroom away.
* * *
With a drink made from the miracle mushroom, Lady White brought her husband back to life. But though he soon recovered fully, neither one of them would speak of what had happened. Terrified by what he had seen, and not knowing of his wife’s efforts to save him, Xu Xian now did his best to avoid her.
Lady White, anxious to regain his love, at last played a trick on him. She changed her white silk sash into a living snake and fooled him into thinking that this was the snake that had frightened him.
Happiness returned to the household. But not long after, Xu Xian set off for Gold Mountain Temple to offer thanks to Buddha for his recovery. On the bank of the Yangzi River, he found Fahai waiting for him. “Your wife has tricked you,” said Fahai, and he told him just what had happened.
Terrified once more, the young man asked, “How can I save myself?”
“Become a monk and live at the temple,” said Fahai. “That’s the one place she can’t reach you.”
But Xu Xian, torn between love of his wife and fear of her, could not decide. “I stand in two boats at once!” he moaned. At last, meaning to decide later, he boarded Fahai’s raft and crossed with him to the river island where the temple stood.
Once inside Gold Mountain Temple, Xu Xian was not allowed to leave. Meanwhile, Lady White waited anxiously without news for three days. Then she and Blue took their swords and rowed a boat to the island to bring him home.
Fahai was waiting for them at the temple gate. Blue cried, “Give him back, you shaven-headed donkey!” But Lady White silenced her. Patiently appealing to Fahai’s compassion and sense of justice, she pleaded with him to return her husband.
“Demon!” cried Fahai. “My duty is to protect unsuspecting humans from such as you!”
“I have harmed no one and helped many,” protested Lady White. “Surely the demon is he who divides man and wife!”
“Sister,” declared Blue, “we must crush this temple!”
Fahai called down an army of heavenly warriors, while from the river below, Lady White and Blue called up an army of water animals. The two armies fought fiercely, and led by Lady White, her side was winning. But at last her condition made her falter. With her allies around her for protection, she hastily retreated.
Lady White and Blue fled to Hangzhou, where they found themselves once more by Broken Bridge. Believing her husband had betrayed her, Lady White said, “The bridge may not be broken, but my heart is.”
Blue told her, “If I ever see that traitor again, I’ll kill him!”
Just then, Xu Xian himself arrived. From within the temple, he had heard the noise of battle and learned it was his wife who had come for him. Determined at last to stand by her, he had managed to escape, then had searched till he found them.
But Blue, furious at sight of him, chased him with her sword. Lady White stood between them to protect her husband, but then turned on him herself and declared how he had hurt her. The young man protested, “Fahai kept me prisoner—yet all that time I only thought of you!”
“Dear husband,” said Lady White, “set aside your fear and hear me now.” Then, ignoring Blue’s signals of alarm, she revealed everything—what she was in truth and all she had done for him. “And now,” she said, “your heart must tell you what is right or wrong.”
Xu Xian replied, “Finally I realize all you’ve suffered for my sake. Human or not, I’ll love you always. If I don’t, let Blue cut off my head!”
* * *
United once more, the three stayed in Hangzhou with the sister of Xu Xian, and there Lady White gave birth to her baby boy. But the couple’s happiness was not to last. Just one month after their son’s birth—on the day they were to present him to friends and relatives—Fahai arrived, his golden alms bowl carried by a heavenly warrior. Lady White was instantly held captive by the bowl’s golden ray.
Blue attacked the warrior with her sword, but he fought her off with Fahai’s dragon staff. “Sister, save yourself,” called Lady White, “and come back later to avenge us!” Helpless for the moment, Blue fled.
Xu Xian pleaded with Fahai and tried to seize the bowl, but to no avail. “Now at last,” he said, “I see who is the real demon!”
Realizing there was no hope, Lady White said goodbye to her husband and to her baby. Then she told Fahai, “Though you tear me from my husband’s arms, you cannot stop our love.”
Then Fahai ordered the warrior to imprison her under Thunder Peak Pagoda by West Lake. He declared, “Not until the lake dries up or the pagoda falls will she come out again!”
* * *
Centuries passed. Xu Xian and Fahai passed away, but Blue did not forget. On Mount Emei, she trained herself until her powers were at their height. Then she gathered an army of mountain animals and marched on Thunder Peak Pagoda.
The pagoda’s guardian spirit met her with his own army, but it was defeated and forced to flee. Then Blue’s army set fire to the pagoda, which quickly crumbled.
“Sister, come out!” called Blue.
And there from the ruins rose Lady White—free again at last!
* * *
So ends the legend of Lady White. Who can say for sure what happened then? Perhaps she returned to Mount Emei, never more to brave the human world. Perhaps she flew above the clouds to live in peace in Heaven.
Or perhaps she strolls beside West Lake along with sister Blue, waiting for her heart to stir again.