Fu: Do Chinese Charms Really Work?

It's a fu, or Chinese talisman. You may have seen one in a Chinese "zombie" movie: the Taoist priest, garbed in his sorcerer's robes, intoning an incantation, and ringing a magic bell, holds one up to expel evil, subdue demons, and restore the place to tranquility.

Nor are they simply the stuff of novels and films; you may well have heard about them in the news.

This February, for example, a fu was said to have helped crack an embezzlement case at a branch of the Bank of Taiwan in Kaohsiung.

According to reports, as the police were still gathering evidence, two bank employees went to consult a chit'ung, or shaman, named "Red Boy" for help on the case. Red Boy insisted that they have a certain coworker of theirs brought to him for questioning. To make sure she came, he gave them a fu to stick onto the leg of her chair. The "suspect" did indeed agree to see him, and confessed the whole crime.

Two years ago Kaohsiung witnessed an even stranger case involving a fu. A 70-year-old woman took her daughter-in-law to court, accusing her of placing under her bed talismans designed to drive her to death from insanity.

The district attorney discovered that the 31-year-old daughter-in-law, who worked in her mother-in-law's flour company, being refused a pay raise, had spent some NT$4,000 (over US$100) on more than 70 fu, which she had indeed placed under her mother-in-law's bed, hoping thereby to cause her death. The case for "attempted premeditated murder" was thus apparently quite clear. Nevertheless, the judge dismissed the case on the grounds that the accused's actions were "mere superstition" and could actually in no way cause harm to the plaintiff.

The judge may have denied the fu's effectiveness, but the world is a big, big place, and the spirits of the nether world may not play by our rules. The power of the fu is attested, in fact, throughout Chinese history. The Yellow Emperor, for example, progenitor of the Chinese people, was said to have defeated Ch'ih Yu at the battle of Cholu by the power of a fu which he had obtained from the Queen Mother of the West. And the History of the Latter Han tells of a certain Ch'ang Fang who acquired a fu and a bamboo staff from an old medicine seller whom he had seen disappear into a medicine jug. Ch'ang Feng was able to beat up ghosts and goblins with the staff, until one day he accidentally lost the fu and was killed by a host of avenging spirits.

Besides ghosts, Chinese talismans are said to have power over the living as well. Ko Hung, a writer of the Eastern Chin dynasty (317--420), relates the following story: A certain Ko Hsuan, versed in the occult arts, went boating with several young companions who, noticing several dozen fu in his boat, asked him whether they really worked. Ko Hsuan, pointing to a washer girl on the riverbank, asked them if they'd like to see her go for a little jog, and tossed a fu into the river. The girl took off running and didn't stop until Ko Hsuan cast out another fu several li down the river.

Setting aside the question of these stories' veracity, what sort of theories have led people to believe that a little piece of paper could possess such power?

According to authorities on the subject, the power lies not in the paper, but in the spirits that, they say, reside between heaven and earth. The fu works like military papers commanding the spirits to perform a certain task. "The higher the spiritual attainments of the Taoist priest, the more spirits he can mobilize into action," explains Liu Wen-san, a lecturer at Tainan Teachers College who has studied the art of fu for many years.

Chen Yung-sheng, a chief priest at the Taoist World Temple in Tainan, agrees. Drawing one for us, he explained that fu are normally written with black ink or red cinnabar on yellow, red, or black paper and measure about seven inches long by three wide. As to the characters, they usually list the gods or spirits to be invoked and the task to be performed, but since they're written quickly, decorated with various magical flourishes, and come in a bewildering variety of forms, they're difficult to make out clearly.

No matter what the type, Master Chen emphasizes that each fu must go through a magic ritual, including an incantation and, often, three revolutions over a joss stick, before becoming effective. The fu is then given to the person requesting it, for pasting up, burning, or mixing into a concoction for drinking. The most common types of fu, he says, are in some temples even printed up by machine.

The varieties of fu are truly myriad. They are those for a harmonious marriage, for abundant offspring, for flourishing livestock, for the eradication of pests, for prevention of fire and flood, for the curing of every sort of ailment from prenatal disease to senility.... And if you're down on your luck, suffering from unrequited love, looking for your keys, or bothered by bugs flying around your lamp, there are fu to help you. There is even a fu for kids in trouble with their parents which makes them "feel no pain when spanked."

They come in all sorts, but do they work? When we asked Master Chen, he only frowned. The magical process is complex, he said, and can go awry at one small slip or a moment's inattention. inattention.

What's more, as the Eastern Chin author Ko Hung once wrote, "... fu are celestial signs derived from Lao Tzu.... the reason why they are seldom effective today is that many errors have crept in over the long history of their transmission...." Since these words were written over 1,500 years ago, the amount of "depreciation" the fu have suffered down through the years can only be imagined.

Nevertheless, these magical strips of paper are still widely popular with the people. They can be seen pasted over the lintels of homes, tacked up in kitchens, dangling from the rearview mirrors of taxicabs, and, packed inside little red or yellow packets by fond grandmothers, hanging from the necks of children traveling away from home.

Do they work? Let's hope so. Then all we need to do is hang one up and family life will be harmonious, the money will come rolling in, our children will do us proud, we'll find our true loves, the pigs, and chickens will all grow plump, we won't be bothered by mosquitoes or cockroaches, we'll never get sick, and babies won't cry or wet their beds. Kids won't even feel it when they're spanked.

Wouldn't it be fine?

[Picture Caption]

The power of a fu comes from the spirits residing around the altar. The god holding the Five Thunder Tablet is Celestial Master Chang.

A fu is pasted up behind the altar in this country store. (courtesy of Lien Hui-ling)

Taoist Master Chen Jung-sheng, in full attire, demonstrates how a fu is penned.

This is the most potent prop in a Taoist priest's conjurations--a Five Thunder Tablet.

Under the bright sun at the beach, this package containing a protective fu appears especially eye-catching. Whether it works is up to you. (courtesy of Lien Hui-ling)

After setting out a fu, a priest asks Chung K'uei to expel the evil spirits from this accident-plagued stretch of road. (courtesy of Lien Hui-ling)

A fu is pasted up behind the altar in this country store. （courtesy of Lien Hui-ling）

Taoist Master Chen Jung-sheng, in full attire, demonstrates how a fu is penned.

This is the most potent prop in a Taoist priest's conjurations--a Five Thunder Tablet.

This is the most potent prop in a Taoist priest's conjurations--a Five Thunder Tablet.

Under the bright sun at the beach, this package containing a protective fu appears especially eye-catching. Whether it works is up to you. （courtesy of Lien Hui-ling）

After setting out a fu, a priest asks Chung K'uei to expel the evil spirits from this accident-plagued stretch of road. （courtesy of Lien Hui-ling）