Fun JTTW Text Reference for Artists
I've written at length about Sun Wukong's golden headband (here, here, here, and here). Anyone who has read the novel will know that it is used to rein in Monkey's unruly behavior through the application of pain. Such events have been portrayed by artists like Chen Huiguan in his Newly Illustrated and Complete Journey to the West (Chen Huiguan Xinhui Quanben Xiyouji, 陈惠冠新绘全本西游记, 2001) and Tianwaitang in his piece Tripitaka's Curse (2010).
But I've never seen someone depict the instance with the greatest potential for an everlasting visual impact. In chapter 27, Tripitaka angrily recites the tightening spell 20 times to punish Monkey for killing what he thought was an innocent woman (it wasn't). This causes our hero's head to deform like a cartoon character!
The sight so frightened the Tang Monk that he fell from his horse. Lying on the road, he did not speak another word except to recite the Tight-Fillet Spell back and forth exactly twenty times. Alas, poor Pilgrim's head was reduced to an hourglass-shaped gourd! As the pain was truly unbearable, he had to roll up to the Tang Monk and plead, "Master, please don't recite anymore. Say what you have to say" (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 2, p. 23)
唐僧一見,驚下馬來,睡在路傍,更無二話,只是把緊箍兒咒顛倒足足念了二十遍。可憐把個行者頭勒得似個亞腰兒葫蘆,十分疼痛難忍,滾將來哀告道���「師父莫念了,有甚話說了罷。」
The original Chinese lists the "double-waisted" calabash gourd (yayao'er hulu, 亞腰兒葫蘆). I hope this gives artists an idea of what Wukong's head would look like.
I've previously noted how the novel describes Sun Wukong as an actual monkey, and it's because of this that the headband would likely rest on his eye orbits. I imagine his head being squeezed into the shape of a calabash gourd would make his eyes comically (or grotesquely) bulge, too.
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Dude Tang sanzang really sound like a gentle but also....ya know-
and maybe we could get a fic of him?I kinda curious actually-
Taken Aboard
Yandere Tang Sanzang and Sun Wukong
(I’ve noticed recently that I enjoy writing yandere introduction fics- them meeting you. The content is a bit softer, but I enjoy establishing these things!)
You don't really want the shiny little key, no matter how important it looks. You just know that it's important. Made from polished silver and ending in many prongs, with a large gemstone set into the bulb... it was clearly valuable.
But you don't want it. Not the silver, not the jewel. You want what comes with taking it- a chase. And if these people didn't want to play your games, why would they come into your forest?
They’re only at the very entrance of the forest, where the trees are thinnest, but it’s still a foolish expedition that they’re surmounting.
There's easier ways to get through the area, after all. The forest is thick with trees and sharp vines, running with many rivers and populated by thousands of different animals. Clearly, these strangers are in no rush and have supplies to spare if they're traveling directly through instead of around.
So what's the harm in one little game?
You’ve learned all the creatures in this forest by heart- their scents and sounds and shapes, each palm-sized critter and earth-shaking beast impossibly dear to your heart.
Your hands; diminutive and deft, shift from tight skin to soft feathers. And as nail curves to talon, the bones of your fingers slide around your palm until they’ve diminished from five to four. In a sudden. startling flash of golden light does the rest of your form fall away.
As the aureate rays that wrap your body burn away from your reducing frame, the new truth of your body becomes clear- you’ve taken the form of a diminutive songbird. Were it not for your green-flecked wings, you would be entirely indistinguishable as a demon by the eye alone.
There’s just enough wind filtering through the dense forest to aid your feathers, sending your small form skyward.
You gather speed by twisting around clustered branches and thick tree trunks, breaking through a canopy of foliage and soaring to the warm sky.
Wings close to your body, you zip overhead the group and unfurl them in what would be a grand display, had you a more imposing form.
Tucking your wings tight, you dive haphazardly, snatching the key from a very startled monk all dressed up in a fancy cossack with a jangly golden stick.
Prying the metal free from his fingers, you retreat to the denser woods, taking a moment to perch as he calls out indignantly for you to return.
But you don’t even have time to gloat to yourself before a multicolored hawk comes at you, red and blue and ginger feathering.
Barely you manage to dodge, watching the bird soar past. The wind left in it’s blazing wake is so fast that your feathers are nearly torn out by their quills.
It rounds sharply, lurching at you again, only missing when you drop from the branch and dip towards the ground. The hawk turns and dives, losing you as you loop a low-hanging branch. It curves the bend with you, only inches away. Through the leaves, it misses by a hairsbreadth, mistaking a browning leaf for your insignificant form. Over the river your shadows startle the koi, causing them to retreat to the muddy depths. All across and through the forest are you hounded, slowly falling closer to the talons of the glorious hawk.
And you finally slip, diving too slow to avoid the clutch of avian claws.
But cold keratin is not what cages you.
Furry fingers tightly enfold your fragile form, stuck fast between the palms of the Monkey King.
He drops from the sky with some measure of grace, tail swaying in glee born of victory.
Exhausted from the chase, you concede defeat in the form of birdsong, melodically peeping and chirping to the simian from the cage his hands form.
Sun Wukong pauses at your display of surrender. It’s not often that a demonic enemy accepts being beaten. He carefully opens his hands to view you- and, to his disbelief, you hop onto the pointer finger of his right hand, holding the little key in your beak.
“You’re a funny little demon, aren’t you? So cute, but so darn troublesome… here, give me that.”
You don’t protest or fight as he snatches the jeweled key, stuffing the metal into his pocket.
“Wukong! Wukong, don’t hurt them!” Says a worried voice from just a few paces away, clearly out of breath from running. “Wukong do not make me recite the… sutra?”
His voice trails away at the sight of you, cupped in the simian’s ginger-furred hands.
“…they aren’t running, Master. They just… gave me the key after I caught them.”
The monk approaches slowly, then takes you into his gentle hands, a note of pity in his contemplative eyes. One soft finger brushes against the green spots that speckle your quills.
“Demon, I kindly ask you- reveal to me your name and form.”
With a giggling peep, you do as asked and immediately return to your true form- in his palms.
Tang Sanzang gasps from the sudden shift in weight, pulled to the ground before he can right himself. You giggle again, sprawled half on his lap and half on the dirt. And Sun Wukong laughs too, enjoying a moment of indignity from his oft-stoic master.
There’s a flash of irritation that fades the second the monk gets a good look at you- gods, you’re only a child. And so thoroughly ragged too. Mud and leaves in your never-cut hair, your fingernails chipped and uneven. Shredded clothing and no shoes.
“Have you been out here long, little one? In the forest, all on your lonesome?” Pity in his voice, compassion in his eyes. “When was the last time you had a meal? A drink? Come, quench yourself with my canteen,” he commands, lifting the fur-wrapped metal to your lips.
“They’re not a baby,” Wukong argues, tapping one clawed finger against your nose. “And don’t act like they’re harmless, Master.”
You pull away from the canteen after a long sip, sticking your tongue out at him. “No one asked you, Hóutóu!”
“Are you getting cheeky with Sun Yéyé? Maybe I should chase you all around your own home again, brat!”
Tang Sanzang sighs, not cutting into the squabble. Petty arguing was better than outright violence, and neither of you seemed all too serious about the verbal spat.
All he can really do is change the subject.
“I can hardly leave a little one all alone out here- even in the forest, it must grow cold at night. Come, you may rest in my tent when the sun falls. Then we shall find your parents, and-“
“Nope!”
“…excuse me? ‘N-no’, little one? You mustn’t joke with me like that-“
“I’m not joking,” you cheerily and confidently respond. “This whole forest is my home! And I don’t have parents, anyways! I was born from a fallen peach tree!”
That didn’t sound… too implausible, honestly. Strange things gave birth to demons, after all. Rocks, in Wukong’s own case.
But, even if you were a demon born of nature and the wilds…
Wouldn’t it be horribly cruel to leave a child out here, all alone?
You were small enough to still fit in his lap, small enough that you only came to Wukong’s hip even when you stood on your toes.
A child. Gods, how could you have survived on your own for so long? Demon or not, you were a child. Gods above, he couldn’t leave you here.
It couldn’t be that you’d leave easily. You had just declared that this forest was your home. And with the powers and skills you had, simple force wouldn’t be enough.
He… had some praying to do. To Guanyin, and to another blessed length of golden metal.
You would not be staying here a night longer.
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So I was wondering and isn't it weird that there are 10 different stone animal figurines in one photo. And we just happen to have 10 Kings of the Underworld? Could this be a hint from the creators that the woman created the 10 kings?
I also noticed that there is a stone figure of a monkey. At first I thought hey it might be the same monkey figurine we were able to see up close, but no! There's a distinct difference between them. And here my question comes. Was there supposed to be 11 kings from the beginning instead of 10? (I've read your theories and they're awesome^^) And guess we'll see the fourth mythical monkey? Because if so, I can't wait :D
HEY WAIT A MINUTE.
For as much as I've stared at this screenshot I can't believe I didn't notice there was a DIFFERENT stone monkey in the background until now!
As for the 10 Kings of the Underworld, as far as my research has yielded they have no associations with animals and there isn't anything about a potential 11th King.
Now with the 3rd and 4th celestial primates, I have no idea if we'll see them! I have talked about MK potentially being the Long Armed Gibbon in the past, but it's not something I'm certain on. With writing theories you often just throw stuff out there and see if anything sticks.
HOWEVER.
Out of curiosity I did a little digging into gibbon symbolism in Chinese culture, and I found this lovely little quote:
In ancient China, gibbons were often considered being a symbol of the world of the supernatural, mysterious and remote from man's daily life. According to Taoist beliefs harking back to about 150 B.C., the occult powers of gibbons included the ability to assume human shape and to prolong their life to several hundred years. Even in later dynasties, gibbons often served as examples for the ideal human existence and were represented in numerous paintings of varying naturalism.
(Gibbon Research Lab)
Now, I read "included the ability to assume human shape" and had to do a double take, because obviously that's something MK is distinctly able to do. It would help explain why MK took the form of a human child when he first meets Pigsy:
Gibbons being a symbol of the supernatural also feels very relevant to MK as a character. He wants to maintain a sense of normalcy ("Just like none of this never happened"), but that stopped the moment he picked up the staff. MK is now very separated from the daily life he used to have ("He's not even pretending to deliver noodles anymore" - "Seriously? You still think we're just some noodle delivery guy? You can't remember where we came from, and we got all this power, and you never once asked why us?").
And I just think it's neat!
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