In the Chinese tradition of tales of the spirit world, what kinds of ghosts are most common? Which kind have been most popular on the silver screen? What do the forms and popularity of these ghosts say about the thinking and secrets of Chinese people?
She is beautiful as a heavenly fairy, and, though the shade of a departed soul, Nie Xiaoqian appears not in the least spooky or menacing. At a desk, she begins writing a poem: "A ten-mile wide placid lake surface, covered with mist/I contemplate my long hair, and in my youthful beauty I worry/Standing alone gazing at the moon, hoping someone will take care of me. . . ." She pauses to think of the fourth line, but is interrupted by her spectral matron, to whom she is a servant.
Ning Caichen, a young scholar, walks before the same desk, and finishes the poem with the line, "I envy not deities, I only envy lovers." In an instant, the desolate lake blossoms with countless colorful flowers. The black and white film is transformed by vivid hues. Thus begins the tale of romance between the young scholar and the lovely ghostess.
Black box of the soul
"Ghost stories are the 'black box of the soul' for Chinese; they reveal the 'other-worldly consciousness' long repressed by Confucianism," avers Wang Yi-chia, editor-in-chief at Health World magazine and a skilled analyst of ghost tales.
The writers of ghost novels and films are of course individuals, but the "sheet music" for these "spectral symphonies" comes from the folk tradition; the writers are but guest soloists.
Ghost stories reflect the thinking, culture, and lifestyles of a given society. Though both East and West have ghosts, they are very different. Ghosts have no innate forms; rather, their images are carved out by living cultures. Opening up this "black box" stuffed with the souls of the departed, the first one up is the female ghost. What role has she played for the Chinese?
The same old story: boy loves ghoul
The film Qingnu Youhun, first made by director Li Han-hsiang in 1960, was a big hit when remade not long ago by Hong Kong director Tsui Hark; two sequels have since been filmed. Thus did Nie Xiaoqian, a character from Liao Zhai Zhi Yi (Strange Stories From the Leisure Studio, a compilation of popular tales of the occult made in the late 17th century), become a star of the silver screen.
No matter what the source of the tale-novels of the Wei-Jin era, classic ghost stories of the Qing dynasty, or the countless phantasmic films of Yao Feng-pan-all the scripts seem to be the same: love between a beautiful ghostess and a young scholar. Never has a story told of male ghost falling in love with a young woman, nor of romance between spirits.
The first reason for this is that traditionally the writers were themselves young scholars, as were the readers (most everyone else being illiterate). Of course the male lead had no desire to be a ghoul, so that role was left to the female lead. More importantly, by making the female lead a ghost, the writers gained far more room for fantasizing.
For most of mankind, ghosts are fearful and unsightly. Chinese have been no exception. Thus the character for "ugly" in Chinese (chou, 醜) is rooted in the radical for "ghost" (gui, 鬼).
But Chinese ghostesses are exactly the opposite. They are of surpassing beauty and grace, with alluring smiles and charming demureness. Moreover, most come from established families, and are skilled in all the arts, as well as social graces. At the same time, they are true to their lovers as well as warm and gentle. The men in these stories, meanwhile, are always transformed from "ordinary people terrified of ghosts" into "the saviors of the ghosts."
Beautiful, talented, and passionate
Thus was Nie Xiaoqian rescued by Ning Caichen, who dug up her corpse and reburied it next to his house. Every day Nie helped Mother Ning with her ablutions, and did the housework, winning her affection. And after Ning's wife died, Nie bore Ning's son. Just look! Chinese ghosts not only have feelings and a concept of duty, they also-as one amazed Englishman said after seeing the film-are "full of vitality!" In contrast, he opined, most English ghosts are "wreathed in an aura of death."
Perhaps the hardest thing to understand about these stories is how these elegant, genteel products of elite households, upon becoming ghosts, suddenly become audacious and passionate pursuers of love. They always take the initiative to strike up acquaintances and break the ice, volunteer themselves for passionate embraces, and have insatiable desire. "The women ghosts seem to have intense passions that need men to assuage them. In fact, it's the men who have the intense desire, but they project their lust onto the female ghosts, who are unrestrained by human reason or custom," says Wang Yi-chia.
Seen from this perspective, a love affair with a ghostess can satisfy a man's every fantasy. These women have talent, beauty, fiery passion, and even wealth and status (from their families), while the men have no earthly responsibilities. Since Chinese have always believed that there is a large gap between the spirit world and the human world, so long as the male is a "nice guy," when he has had his fill of pleasure, the female ghost will always disappear back to the nether world. Very few ghostesses have, like Nie Xiaoqian, regained human form and remained at their lover's side for life.
A way out of the spirit world
Another reason why there are so many female ghosts in the Chinese literary tradition is that women had so few choices in real life, and ghosts could remedy that. In traditional, paternalistic Chinese society, women were often victimized-abandoned by husbands, maltreated by mothers-in-law. . . . With no place to turn, such women had only two choices: They could either wait for their tormentor to die and, hopefully, be punished in hell, or the woman could become a ghost and take revenge while their tormentor was still living in the mundane world.
One of the most popular ghost stories in Taiwan is the tale of the Lintou Lass, a tragedy that came over with pioneers in the Qing dynasty. Legend has it that her husband was an official from mainland China posted to Taiwan. When his term of office was up, he abandoned her, and returned to mainland China with all his money. In that era when women had no autonomy, she ended up hanging herself in the Lintou woods. With the help of a kind-hearted person, her spirit crossed the sea and found her husband. She attached herself to his body, and in a blood-curdling voice poured out her tragic story to those around, ending by using her husband's own hand to strike him dead with the chop of an ax.
Every era gave birth to stories of this (super)nature. The Tang dynasty tales "Wang Kui Betrays Gui Ying" and "The Story of Huo Xiaoyu" both tell of loyal women encountering unfaithful men. Once deeply devoted and sworn to love for all time, these men abandoned their old loves to gain social status. As for these women, loyal to their vows and tearfully heartbroken, how else could they take revenge except by becoming ghosts? Even in Shui Hu Zhuan (Outlaws of the Marsh)-primarily an adventure story of noble bandits-a similar episode occurs: After bandit leader Song Jiang kills his adulterous wife, Yan Xijiao, she is able to return to the mundane world to capture alive her former lover, Zhang Sanlang. Obviously women in human form had not nearly as much power as they did in spectral guise.
"All movies with women ghosts have the same four-stage formula: a man and woman have a romance, the man's feelings change, the woman dies from hate and bitterness, and she returns as a ghost to take her revenge." So states Yao Ching-kang, a judge at the Golden Horse Awards for film.
And why are female ghosts so stereotyped? They always have long, disheveled hair, hanging over a cruel green face, with loose white clothing waving in the breeze.
"White clothing was lingerie in olden times," explains Juan Chang-juei, head of the department of anthropology at the Taiwan Provincial Museum. In ancient times, women wore white undergarments at their marriage. After the wedding night, these were carefully stored away, to be worn again only on the day of death. They symbolized a woman's virtue and chastity. In addition, for Chinese white is the color appropriate for funerals and mourning. So female ghosts have traditionally worn white. In contrast, many Western demons prefer black.
However, looking at many contemporary programs and books of the supernatural, ghostesses have a new image. Some wear dresses or long pants, looking just like any other modern person. Times have changed, and different types of ghosts are popular. And women ghosts now only have green faces and disheveled hair when they "transform" to terrorize someone; most are at first sight well-dressed and graceful.
Men are good for you?!
Wang Yi-chia, who graduated in medicine from National Taiwan University, has an extremely unromantic theory about why female ghosts look for lonely men without partners. "The basic reason lies in the fact that men have nocturnal emissions," he avers.
Many scholars who have studied man's belief in a spirit world trace this belief to dreams. When early man saw deceased persons or total strangers in dreams, he could only explain them as phantoms. Men who have nocturnal emissions, meanwhile, often dream of beautiful women. How to explain the appearance of these beautiful, stimulating women? Perhaps they, too, are ghosts! Wang explains the fact that ghost stories invariably involve ghost females encountering young male scholars to this biological difference between men and women. He strengthens his argument by drawing attention to the Chinese faith in "using yang [which represents both the masculine and mundane] to compensate for weaknesses in yin [which represents both the feminine and the otherworldly]."
In the Lie Yi Zhuan (Tales of the Strange) of the Wei-Jin era, there is the following story: There was a scholar named Tan, 40 years old and unmarried. One night he was reading the Shi Jing (Book of Odes), when a young girl of 15 or 16 appeared. She gave herself to him, and they became man and wife. But she warned Tan that until three years had passed, he could never shine a light on her.
After they had a son, one night, Tan was unable to restrain himself. Taking advantage of his wife's slumber, he took a lantern and had a peek. He was startled to see that the wife with whom he shared his bed every night was flesh and blood only above the waist-below she was a skeleton.
Then there is the story "Skeleton of the Temple of Zhou Yu" from the Qing dynasty. Within half a month after the female ghost began her relationship with the scholar, new flesh began to grow in around her eyes. It seems like the "yang within the yang" (the sperm within the male) could actually put flesh on the bones of the "yin within the yin" (a woman in the spirit world). This may also be why the young scholars get weaker and weaker.
The ancient Chinese medical text Qian Jin Fang (Essential Prescriptions Worth One Thousand Gold Ingots) has one intriguing segment which reads, "Thinking of intercourse when alone is very harmful to longevity and brings on many illnesses. Demons may take advantage of this to have intercourse. . . which will cause immense loss to man's essence." This clearly states that men are a "tonic" for female ghosts. On the other hand, living women are seen as "yin within the yang" (the feminine in the mundane world), and cannot be of any value to the "yang within the yin" (male ghosts in the spirit world), which is another reason why one never hears of traditional ghost tales involving the shades of men having relations with living women.
Self-help for women
In China's traditional male- dominated society, daughters' "spirit tablets" (marking the place of eternal rest of their souls) were always placed in the home of the husband, and were not worshipped as part of their own family lineage. A woman who died unmarried had no place for her soul to rest and be cared for, and these became known in folk tradition as "little misses."
Sometimes the parents of homeless "little misses" would place their memorial tablets in general temples, or temples specially for such unmarried female spirits, where a religious would make offerings to them. Others have to "save themselves" by finding some way to become legally married to some living male. Says Wang Yi-chia, "Ghost stories often reflect the concept of marrying the deceased to adopt them into a family line." We can see this core element in many famous romances between man and ghost.
Take for example that ghostess who found the student Tan and bore a son. Because Tan shone a lantern on her before it was time, it was inevitable that the couple would have to separate. Before departing this world she left Tan a pearl-decorated dress. Tan took the dress to the market, where it was purchased by a wealthy family. The family then recognized it as one that had been buried with their late daughter, and they caught and beat Tan. After a series of events, the girl's parents finally came to believe Tan's story, and they accepted him as their son-in-law. Thus the marriage process across the line between the mundane and the nether worlds was completed.
Also, Nie Xiaoqian and the comely ghost Fu Liqing (from the story "Peony Lantern") both had no one to look after them. In the Liao Zhai story "Ninth Daughter Gongsun," after the ghost Ninth Daughter marries the scholar, she tells him pitifully, "I have been wandering, with nowhere to go. Fortunately we were able to share the night, and I hope you will take my corpse and bury it next to your family grave so that I might have someone to rely on for eternity." This appeal reflects the Chinese tradition of the living making offerings to and caring for the needs of the deceased in the afterworld, a tradition that lies behind many a story of love between man and ghost. Sad, isn't it, that in traditional Chinese society a woman could not find autonomy and independence even after death.
Wandering ghosts, unclean ghosts
Souls that have people to make offerings to them may rest in peace, and won't be troublesome. Thus only one type of specter makes itself visible to man: the "lonely soul" or "wandering ghost" that either has no one to look after it or has died a violent death. In Taiwan's pioneering days, when disease was rampant, many spirits-often called the "good brothers," "benevolent grandfathers," and so on-who were appealed to for help were all "wandering ghosts."
In the Taiwanese dialect, these wandering shades are known as lasap ("filthy"). In Mandarin it is said that they are "unclean." Li Yih-yuan of the Academia Sinica explains in his essay "The Cosmology of Chinese Ghosts" that this represents "a product of disorder." Ghosts who are not worshipped and who are not watched over go around causing trouble. The mass of ghosts helped back into the cycle of reincarnation at Ghost Festival are just these wandering souls; they are "fed" with offerings by the people in hopes that they will have their fill of food and wine and leave contented and without trouble. At Tomb Sweeping Day, people will take a bit of food from their offerings to loved ones and scatter it around. Anyway, they are there to "feed" their ancestors, so why not leave something for the hungry wandering ghosts as well!
Wandering ghosts must rely on the kindness of strangers, finding a meal here, missing one there. Of course, with no home of their own, the best thing for them is to find someone they can rely on. For male ghosts with no heirs to light incense and make offerings to them, the family can adopt another son to take that responsibility; there is no need for male ghosts to "harass" the ladies in the land of the living.
Ancestor worship
In the Chinese tradition of ancestor worship, the spirits of ancestors are very close to the living. So long as they have enough clothing and sustenance, and have no worries, they can pass time contentedly in the other world, and from there lend protection to their descendants. The Shanding cave people of 20,000 years ago buried the remains of their ancestors in the mountain caves, where they lived in peaceful coexistence. The Chinese character kuai (塊), meaning "piece" but originally referring to a clod of earth, is made up of the characters for "land" (土) and "ghost" (鬼), from the idea that every inch of the earth on which we walk is the flesh and blood of our ancestors.
However, there are some ancestral ghosts who will find occasion to come back to the mundane world. In one story, there was a young student skilled at geomancy. One day he was out exploring in a mountain area with perfect geomantic conditions for a gravesite, and didn't leave himself enough time to get back down. Just as he was wondering what to do, an old man with swollen feet walking with a stick appeared. He invited the student to stay in his "shelter from the cold." The youth followed the old man to his abode, which turned out to be moldy and inundated with water.
The old man told the student where he originally lived and who his family was. He said that his children built this mountain home for him because he always liked the mountains. Unexpectedly, not long after he moved in, there was a flood, causing his feet to swell up and giving him rheumatism. The old man asked the student to visit his family on the way home and tell them what had happened.
At daybreak the next day, the student was awakened by the shining sun. He found himself laying on a stone tomb. He raced to the old man's family to tell them what he had seen, so that they could find a better final resting place for the man.
Thus, ancestral ghosts find they have no choice but to appear when they are disturbed or in trouble-when their graves have been flooded, when their corpses have been impaled by the roots of a tree, when no one has come to make offerings for a long time and they haven't a cent to their name.
Besides reflecting the durability of the Chinese concept of ancestor worship, such stories also reveal how Chinese ghosts must rely on the living to get by, and how they closely interact with the lives of the living. Even today, people commonly burn paper money, cars, houses, and even computers and eyeglasses, to send these on to the deceased. Most amusingly, it is even said that the ghosts of mah-jongg loving souls have appeared in dreams to their descendants, asking for a paper mah-jongg set to be burned in offering to them. There are also many stories of ancestral ghosts appearing to their descendants in the Western tradition, but very rarely does anyone hear of one of these phantoms asking for something to be sent along!
Can't get no. . . animation
Among Chinese people it is believed that a person has "three souls (hun) and seven sources of animation (po)." There are many old women at the Hsing Tien Temple in Taipei who help people to recover hun or po that have been lost in a moment of shock, fright, or surprise. By arranging these two, hun and po, in simple order, there are four possibilities: First are beings with both soul and sources of animation; these are the living. Next there are those with neither hun nor po; these are the dead. Third are those with souls, but no sources of animation or corporeal life; these are ghosts. Finally there are those with bodily animation, but no souls; these are zombies.
A living person filled with vitality has a complete complement of hun and po. Souls are the basis of human spiritual life-thought, emotion, memory. Thus we often say to people who are unable to concentrate, "where did your soul get to?" The po, or sources of vitality, are the motive force behind physical processes-movement, growth, and so on. Thus physical training is often referred to as "working the po."
Ghosts, with souls but no sources of animation, have feelings and memories from their lives, and retain intellectual skills like the ability to play chess or music. But their bodies are very frail. They do not eat earthly food; they have no weight or heat; they can cross water without making a splash, and they cast no shadow; they move as if floating, and some can even fly or pass through walls. Female ghosts in particular show "unearthly" beauty.
On the other hand, zombies, who have physical power but no souls, not only have no feelings, but they are not even able to recognize their family members; they are "walking corpses" who want to bite into any human they see. The physical functions in zombies, meanwhile, remain strong. Not only do their hair and fingernails continue to grow, but their petrified bodies have superhuman strength, and they can smash through doors with ease. In films, zombies are always portrayed jumping around wildly and drinking blood.
Living corpse-it's official!
But why is it that zombies in films always wear the dress of a Qing dynasty official? Is it out of deference to nationalist sentiment? Or is it one way that ordinary people can express their disdain of officialdom? In fact, it's neither. It's only because zombies have nothing like the enchanting beauty of a Nie Xiaoqian, so they have to wear something up-scale to get their share of attention.
In the early work of ghost film director Yao Feng-pan, the zombies were rather plainly attired. But it is a common phenomenon that zombies seem to appear in the clothing of the previous dynasty. Thus in Qing dynasty zombie stories, the living dead were dressed like scholars of the Ming dynasty. The point is to emphasize that zombies are "long dead, from a remote era in the past."
Zombies are often excluded from the ranks of ghosts, and they are often described as "Chinese vampires." In fact, Chinese zombies and Western vampires are not very similar. While both have vicious hearts under their ruthless surfaces, vampires accumulate memories and knowledge from the mundane world. Vampires also are irresistibly attractive to their (female) victims, who, though having the lifeblood sucked out of them, seem to be in state between ecstasy and death, and to submit willingly.
That ghost is just "to die for"
Except for the mindless zombies, Chinese phantoms are capable of distinguishing between good and ill; they return ill-will for ill-will, and benevolence for kindness. But the ghosts of those who died unjustly or wrongly-for example, those drowned, hung, or otherwise dead by suicide, or those killed in auto accidents or while giving birth-are different. There is no one directly responsible. Thus, in places where accidents often occur, one often hears legends of ghosts with grievances roaming the area trying to find "replacement souls," so that the ghost can be liberated to be reincarnated. "Substitute-seeking ghosts," as these specters are known to Chinese, are the result of some insurmountable difficulty or "dead end" in life, and they represent the frustrations of humans toward life's turns of fortune.
Many peoples in the world share the belief that there is something inauspicious about "dying when it is not yet time." This is especially true of suicides, who are variously denied entry into heaven or reincarnation. No fate than those could be worse for a spirit. In many Western countries influenced by Christianity, suicide has been against the law, while a proverb has it that "a good death is still not as good as a bad life." All of these beliefs are various ways to persuade people to cherish life.
Then there are those who have died tragically, but, according to traditional ethics, cannot take revenge directly against those (such as mothers-in-law or husbands) who drove them to their demise. In Wang Yi-chia's analysis, "Some 'substitute ghosts' have not died to replace some other ghost who died unjustly, but are scapegoats for people with power in the real world."
Nevertheless, not all wronged ghosts will try to find a soul to take their place. For example, there was a kind-hearted water ghost who could not bear to take the life of an innocent just to recover his own life, and so passed up several opportunities to be reincarnated. Finally this water ghost was promoted to be an official among phantoms-Lord Cheng Huang-thus breaking the vicious circle of new unjust deaths substituting for previous unjust deaths. And there are many folk customs, such as placing floating lanterns in the water on Ghost Festival, to help aggrieved ghosts find a way out of their predicament.
Life is short, worries last long
Over the course of history, poets have often sighed, "A person gets only one life; it disappears like dust in the wind." Or, "Compared to the sun and the moon, our lives are merely morning dew." Nothing worries men more than the fact that life has a limit.
Regret it you may, but it always ends in death. Having failed to achieve eternal life, mankind has turned its attention to the afterlife. And through ghost stories, people have expressed their fears and sketched out their ideal state of affairs. Zhou Zuoren, a writer in early Republican China, said, "When I hear someone talking about ghosts, it is equivalent to hearing them talk about their deepest feelings." Whatever people want, we imagine that ghosts must also want. And we can be sure that what ghosts are said to want simply affirms what people seek.
In Buddhism it is believed that whatever a person sees at the moment of death is what that person wants to embrace. If one is unable to transcend the mundane world, then one will be stuck there forever. In the end, the appearance of a ghost is always due to the same thing-an uneasy soul. So all it can do is wander in the gloomy and shadowy realm of the ghostly.
Look back at all the various ghosts-the male ghost who fears that no one will look after him, the female phantom trapped in the pain of emotional hurt and revenge, the old man unable to rest in peace in a tomb full of water, and the aggrieved "substitute seeking" ghost looking everywhere for someone to stand in for it-and you will notice something interesting: The appearance of ghosts reflects the fact that life is too short; the tragedies of ghosts represent the persistent attachment to the mundane world.
In the ghost story classic Zi Bu Yu (What Confucius Would Not Discuss), there is a tale of someone who died by hanging whose ghost is looking for a substitute. But a certain "Mr. Huoda" (meaning "Mr. Carefree") took her hanging rope. After failing to frighten Huoda into giving it back, the ghost could only beg the man in low tones to please ask her family to do Taoist ceremonies for her and invite a monk to more frequently chant sutras for her, to help her be reincarnated. This Huoda laughed and said, "You want a masterful monk, and I am one! I will read the sutra for you!" He then began to chant, "A beautiful world, without limit or obstacle; going in death, coming in life, why seek a substitute? If you must go, then go-why not be happy with what you are!" When the ghost heard this, she prostrated herself in gratitude, and then disappeared without a trace.
From the point of view of the living, the greatest joy for a ghost is "a good death." From the ghost's perspective, the problem for the living is how to live well, and die well. This is something that people will spend their whole lives learning!
Photo
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(left) The king of spirits keeps down wandering ghosts at the time of the pudu ("general crossing"), when Chinese people hold ceremonies to try to help pitiful wandering phantoms to get back into the cycle of reincarnation. (photo by Diago Chiu)
(right) Ghost souls, drifting between the spirit and mundane worlds, are actually shadows of ourselves, and reflect dark secrets in the human mind.
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In Chinese stories of romance between man and ghost, why is it always a female ghost that falls in love with a young scholar? The photo is a still from a film based on the story of Nie Xiaoqian. (photo courtesy of Star TV)
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In the Chinese tradition of ancestor worship, ghosts without families have no one to look after their needs. They long to escape from their ghostly state and be reincarnated in human form. (photo by Vincent Chang)
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Many people have heard stories about ancestors whose graves have been disturbed appearing in dreams to tell their descendants what has happened. The photo shows damage from Typhoon Herb, in which the dead as well as the living suffered damage.
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Chinese have always liked things to be concrete. After the Buddhist doctrine of the six paths of reincarnation entered China, they evolved into the following six categories: officialdom; the common people; widows, orphans, and other unfortunates; four-legged beasts; animals born from eggs; and amphibians and insects. People who want to be reborn on the higher paths had better observe the moral strictures.
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The most terrible fate after death is to suffer endless tortures in hell. (photo courtesy of the Museum of History)
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Water lanterns are supposed to help aggrieved ghosts find their way, so they can leave the spirit world and stop their aimless wandering.
(photo by Hsueh Chi-kuang)
Many people have heard stories about ancestors whose graves have been disturbed appearing in dreams to tell their descendants what has happened. The photo shows damage from Typhoon Herb, in which the dead as well as the living suffered damage.
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