Chapter 16: The Mythic World of Guyu — Cangjie, the Hoopoe, and the Queen Mother of the West

Section 1: The Myth of Cangjie — Four Eyes and Double Pupils, "Peering into the Mysteries of Heaven and Earth"

The connection between Guyu and Cangjie has already been discussed at length in the special chapter on the origin of writing. Here let us look, from the perspective of "myth," at the marvelous character of Cangjie's own image.

In legend, Cangjie's appearance is extraordinarily marvelous—tradition holds that he was born with "four eyes," or with "double pupils." This mythic depiction of "four eyes" or "double pupils" is by no means an arbitrary flight of fancy, but a mythic expression of Cangjie's "extraordinary power of observation."

Writing arose from the observation and distillation of the "pattern" (the veins and markings) of Heaven, Earth, and the ten thousand things; and to distill writing out of the bewildering complexity of celestial phenomena, terrestrial features, bird tracks, and tortoise-shell markings required a pair (or even two pairs) of eyes beyond the ordinary, capable of discerning the "pattern" within all things. The account of "four eyes" is precisely a mythic exaggeration celebrating Cangjie's extraordinary power of observation, penetrating Heaven and Earth and discerning the ten thousand phenomena—as if he had grown extra eyes, in order to see the mystery of "pattern" hidden within all things, which ordinary people cannot see.

The deep connection between this myth and Guyu lies here: it once again confirms the conviction that "writing originates in observing Heaven and scrutinizing Earth." Cangjie's invention of writing through observing, with his "four eyes," the pattern of Heaven and Earth resonates precisely with the same spirit as the ancients' "gazing up and scrutinizing down" to fix the solar terms (such as using the gnomon and scale to measure the sun's shadow and determine Guyu)—both are the use of an extraordinary power of observation to grasp and transcribe the "pattern" and "rhythm" of Heaven, Earth, and the ten thousand things.

One observed celestial patterns in order to invent writing; the other observed celestial phenomena in order to fix the solar terms. Cangjie's "four eyes" and the discerning eyes of the ancients who observed the celestial signs to bestow the seasons are, at bottom, one and the same power of "reading the book of Heaven." Sacrificing to Cangjie at Guyu is, in a sense, also an act of reverence toward this great wisdom—one that gazes up and scrutinizes down, penetrating Heaven and Earth, uniting writing and calendrics.

Section 2: The Mythic Countenance of the Hoopoe — From Auspicious Bird to Emissary of the Queen Mother of the West

The hoopoe, of Guyu's third pentad, also holds an extraordinary identity in myth—it bears a mysterious connection with one of the most important goddesses of high antiquity, the Queen Mother of the West (Xiwangmu).

The "Classic of the Western Mountains" chapter of the Classic of Mountains and Seas records the image of the Queen Mother of the West: "The Queen Mother of the West's form is like a human's, yet she has a leopard's tail and a tiger's teeth, and is skilled at whistling; her hair is disheveled, and she wears a sheng; she presides over the calamities of Heaven and the five forms of destructive killing." The Queen Mother of the West's appearance is human-like, yet she has the tail of a leopard and the teeth of a tiger, and excels at a long whistling cry; her hair is disheveled, and she wears a "sheng" (a splendid headdress); she presides over Heaven's calamities and the five kinds of destructive, killing qi.

Note well these four characters, "disheveled hair, wearing a sheng"—the Queen Mother of the West wears a "sheng" upon her head, a splendid headdress! And the bird of Guyu's third pentad, the "daisheng" (hoopoe), takes its very name from the cluster of feathers atop its head, which can open like a crown, resembling the "sheng" worn by women. The bird's "wearing of the sheng" and the goddess's "wearing of the sheng" converge, marvelously, upon this single character "sheng."

The ancients may, on account of this shared name of "sheng," have come to regard the hoopoe as an auspicious bird associated with the Queen Mother of the West, or even as her emissary. An ordinary bird, alighting on the mulberry in late spring and announcing the season of silkworms, thus forged, through that single cluster of splendid feathers atop its head, a mythic bond with that great high-antiquity goddess of "disheveled hair, wearing the sheng," who presides over Heaven's calamities.

Section 3: The Hoopoe, Sericulture, and a Hidden Thread of Female Deities

Looking still more deeply into the connection between the hoopoe and the Queen Mother of the West, we find it faintly draws out a thread running through "woman—sericulture—deity," quietly according with Guyu's theme of mulberry and silk.

Guyu's third pentad, "the hoopoe descends upon the mulberry," announces the matter of women's work and sericulture—a domain originally led by women (gathering mulberry, rearing silkworms, reeling silk, weaving cloth were all the duties of women). And the hoopoe, the bird that announces the season of silkworms, is in turn linked, through the shared "sheng," to the Queen Mother of the West (a goddess). Furthermore, Leizu, the deity of "the First Sericulturist" said in legend to have first taught the people to rear silkworms, was likewise a woman (consort of the Yellow Sovereign).

And so we see that, surrounding Guyu's theme of mulberry and silk, there gathers a series of female figures: the mulberry-gathering maiden, the queen consort performing personal sericulture, Leizu the First Sericulturist, and the "sheng"-wearing Queen Mother of the West—the matter of mulberry and silk, from the mulberry-gathering maiden of the human world, to the deity of the First Sericulturist in sacrifice, to the mythic Queen Mother of the West, forms a single thread of "woman—sericulture" running through the three realms of humanity, ancestors, and spirits.

This is by no means accidental. Sericulture (the foundation of clothing) stands opposite farming (the foundation of food), just as yin stands opposite yang, woman opposite man, weaving opposite plowing. Within the civilizational structure of "men plow, women weave," sericulture naturally belongs to women, to the realm of "yin." And so, surrounding the myth and ritual system of Guyu's sericulture, one finds everywhere the figures of female deities and women—this is the profound projection, on the level of myth and ritual, of agrarian civilization's division of labor by gender.

This small pentad, "the hoopoe descends upon the mulberry," thus draws out an entire mythic realm, presided over by women, bearing upon the fundamental matter of human "clothing." The mythology of Guyu, then, holds not only Cangjie's vigorous, yang-natured "inventing writing, peering into Heaven," but also the yielding, capacious "nurturing clothing through sericulture" represented by the hoopoe, the Queen Mother of the West, and Leizu—one yang, one yin; one writing, one clothing—corresponding precisely to Guyu's dual theme of "rained millet (writing)" and "the descent upon the mulberry (silkworm-rearing)."

Section 4: The True Meaning of Myth — The Ancients' Poetic Memory of "the Origin of Civilization"

Looking back over the various myths of Guyu—Cangjie inventing writing, whereupon "Heaven rained down millet, and ghosts wept in the night"; the hoopoe descending upon the mulberry, linked with the Queen Mother of the West and Leizu—we must finally ask: what is the true meaning of these myths$13

Their true meaning lies in preserving, in poetic form, the ancients' collective memory of "the origin of civilization." The myth of Cangjie's invention of writing preserves the memory of the origin of "written civilization"—how humanity leapt from the simplicity of knotted cords into the pattern of writing and tallies. The myths of the hoopoe, Leizu, and the Queen Mother of the West preserve the memory of the origin of "sericultural civilization"—how humanity learned to rear silkworms, reel silk, and clothe the world. And these two great origins of civilization—writing and sericulture, pattern and clothing—converge, precisely, within this single solar term of Guyu (the writing of "rained millet," the clothing of "the descent upon the mulberry").

Thus, the mythic world of Guyu is, at its essence, a poetic monument to "the origin of civilization." It tells later generations: in that far-off high antiquity, it was Cangjie who gave us writing that could be transmitted through the ages; it was Leizu who gave us silk to cover our bodies. These two things—the wisdom of civilization and the warmth of clothing—are the two greatest gifts the ancients bestowed upon human survival.

And that the ancients, without prior agreement, bound the commemoration of these two gifts to this rain of late spring, Guyu's "rain giving birth to the hundred grains," is precisely meant to express a most profound conviction: whether it is the grain in the field, the clothing on the body, or the writing at one's desk, all are, at bottom, the joint nurturing—of human life and human civilization alike—by the humaneness of Heaven and Earth's nurturing and the achievement of the sages' creation. The mythology of Guyu is precisely the most ancient, most moving poetic expression of this conviction.