The recent relocation of the Taipei zoo presented the workmen with some real headaches. Think a bit: how do you go about transporting a creature as tall as a giraffe?
Actually, this kind of problem is nothing new. Five hundred years ago giraffes were sometimes given as gifts of international friendship among the countries of Asia and Africa.
According to the official History of the Ming Dynasty, giraffes were presented as tribute to the Chinese emperor by various countries of the "South Sea" (including the Kingdom of Pangkela, today's Bangladesh) during the reigns of Yung Lo, Hsuan Te, and Cheng T'ung in the first half of the 15th century.
The giraffe shown being brought as tribute by an emissary in a painting by Shen Tu from 1414 is remarkably true to life. Written on top of the painting in Shen Tu's own hand is a poetic essay called "Auspiciously Receiving the Ch'ilin: A Paean with Preface." Shen Tu called the giraffe a ch'ilin, or Chinese unicorn. and said that it was born "in a nook of the Southwest, on the margins of the Great Sea." Its appearance was "five chang in height, with the hooves of a horse and the body of a chun." (A chun was a type of small, hornless deer.) Its disposition was calm and unhurried, he said, and its cry soft and graceful. When the courtiers heard about the arrival of this magical beast so rarely encountered through the ages, they rushed to have a look.
Shen Tu's description of a ch'ilin seems in some ways to tally with one written by Liu Hsiang (77 B.C. to 6 B.C.). There the chi'lin had "the body of a chun and the tail of an ox; one horn on a round head. . . a measured gait and measured movements. . . in leisure, a smooth refinement; in activity, a dignified demeanor."
In fact, the fantastic chi'lin existed in the Chinese imagination before the giraffe was ever brought to China. The ch'ilin is one of the four mythical creatures of traditional Chinese imagery, which combine elements of realism and fantasy. (The others are the phoenix, the tortoise, and the dragon.) In the Book of Songs, the ch'i is male, and the lin female, and they were considered creatures symbolic of jen, or humanheartedness, appearing only during the benevolent reign of an enlightened ruler.
The ch'ilin often appears as a decorative motif in folk art. For example, temple stone carvings sometimes depict "a ch'ilin bearing a book," in allusion to some legends about Confucius. It's said that a ch'ilin disgorged a jade book in the courtyard before Confucius was born. Later, Confucius dreamed he saw a ch'ilin produce three books from its mouth. And finally, when he was 71, Confucius saw a ch'ilin die and exclaimed, "My Way is at an end! " He died two years later, and the ch'ilin later became a symbol of the sage.
"The ch'ilin delivering a son" is another widespread good-luck design.
Because the ch'ilin was such a popular legendary creature through the ages, as soon as people saw an exotic animal somewhat resembling it--the giraffe--they promptly named it a ch'ilin and considered it a symbol of royalty and propitiousness.
Today, the ch'ilin portrayed in traditional art may seem to differ quite a bit from the giraffes transferred to the new Taipei zoo. But it's interesting to note that the Japanese even today call the giraffe a kirin, using the same characters the Chinese pronounce ch'ilin.
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