2025/04/28

Taiwan Today

Taiwan Review

The Chinese New Year comes in like a mouse

March 01, 1984
For the people of Britain, and many elsewhere in the world, 1984 is the Year of The Book (by George Orwell). Britain ushered in the year with an unabashed deluge of Orwelliana-operas, musicals, "Big Brother Is Watching" T-shirts, seri­ous radio programs on the topic "How right was Orwell"....

However, and with no wish to down­-grade the accomplishments of Orwell, for Chinese people all over the world, 1984 is more properly the year of, say, John Steinbeck's of Mice and Men, for reasons engraved deeply in the Chinese culture.

The year 1984 marks a return to the beginning of the ancient Chinese sixty-year symbolic cycle. The traditional designation for the beginning year con­sists of chia (the first of the Ten Heavenly Stems, or the first designation under the Chinese decimal cycle) and tzu (the first of the Twelve Earthly Branches, or the first designation in the duodecimal cycle). And this chiatzu year is also the Year of Shu (the Mouse).

Like the West, the East has a zodiac, but the Eastern system has a cycle of twelve years, instead of months. Each year of the Eastern cycle has its own particular animal symbol whose roots stretch back to ancient India. This system has had immense influence on the Chinese people since the period of the Southern and Northern Dynasties (420-589 A.D.).

One of the traditional stories pertain­ing to the origins of China's zodiacal system begins on a certain New Year's Day, ages ago, when the Buddha called all the animals of the world to him. He promised that those who came would receive a gift for their fealty. Of all the ani­mals in the world, only twelve came, in this order: the mouse, the ox, the tiger, the rabbit, the dragon, the snake, the horse, the sheep, the monkey, the fowl, the dog, and the pig. As a mark of honor, each was given a year, ever after to be named for him.

When each animal received its year, each then contributed its characteristic traits to it, making the year distinctly its own. According to Oriental belief, people born in an animal's cycle year all have traits characteristic of the namesake animal.

A couple may aspire to give birth to a son in the Year of the Dragon, that is to say to give birth to a noble dragon in the Year of the Dragon. But what can people expect of an offspring born in the Year of the Mouse? Well, in the zodiac of the East, there is more to an animal than his appearance. Since mice are generally more active at night, the saying goes, just be sure the child is born at night and everything then should be quite alright.

Actually, those born in the Year of the Mouse, say the experts, are noted for their charm, but are also fussy about small matters and have a tendency to pinch pennies. When Mouse people want something very much, they will work hard for the thing desired. Because they are thrifty, they are able to save a great deal of money. Unfortunately, they may lose what they have saved by spending it on someone they love who does not really love them. Curiously enough, only through love does a person born in this year become generous. Mouse people have clever, optimistic, and resourceful natures. They can minimize the difficulties of their environment and take joy in all. As a result, their personalities an relatively lively and changeable.

Through the ages, the mouse ha: had a continuously close relationship with human beings. The little rodent is ubiquitous. According to Ku Chin Tu Shu Chi Cheng, compiled and published by Imperial order of the Ching Dynasty, altogether in China, there are more than 50 species of such rodents. Generally, the Chinese people call the little mammal a lao shu (the former meaning old, the latter mouse). Li Shih-chen, editor of the Pen Tsao Kang Mu, an ancient book which lists some 1,000 plants and 1,000 animals of medicinal value, notes it was because the house mouse has a longer life than the rest of the species that the animal came to be called lao shu.

Of the twelve animals in the zodiacal cycle, two are especially unpraiseworthy in human terms, and the mouse is one of them. The northern Chinese have another name for the mouse, hao tzu. Hao means consumer. The animal is disgusting to humankind not only because of its cunning and sneaky facial features, but also because of its amazing destruc­tive ability. And its reproductive capacity is another pain in the neck for men. Tuan Cheng-shih, who lived during the Tang Dynasty, once quipped, "When a mouse king makes water, each drop be­comes a mouse." An ancient book en­titled Lu Yi Chih, a collection of rare happenings, has a slightly different version: "When a mouse shakes its body, each of the fallen hairs turns into a tiny mouse."

Under the fantasy pens of old Chinese writers, love affairs occur between beautiful ladies and magical animals. For example, the fox, as cunning as the mouse, is constantly a subject of such stories. Even the terrible dragon, the snake and tiger, the unhurried bovine, the clever monkey, not to mention tiny ants, have been polished in the phrases of the story teller. But the mouse is seldom praised. Rather, it is compared to thieves, rascals, and other mean and ava­ricious characters. A popular saying, "A mouse crossing the street will be beaten by whomever sees it," fully bespeaks the Chinese people's dislike for the creature.

Although it is such a pest that pen wielders have almost gnashed their teeth in hatred, the mouse may have been, more or less, a contributor to ancient writings. Its whiskers were reportedly used in old China to make rare brushes for writers. Wang Hsi-chih (312-379), often regarded as the greatest of Chinese calligraphers, wrote in his Pi Ching (About Writing Brushes): "It is said that Chang Chih and Chung Yao used brushes made of mouse whiskers to accomplish forceful calligraphic work." It is also reported that Wang Hsi-chih's Lan Ting Hsu (the handwritten copy of a famous literary piece by Wang) and Yueh Ta Ming by Su Shih (1036-1101, the renowned Sung Dynasty man of letters, also known as Su Tung-po) were also written with such a brush.

In old Canton, rats were served as table delicacies under another name—house deer. New-born rats would be fed with honey for at least two to three days before their turn at the table for a dish called mi chi chi (mi means honey, chi chi is the sound rats make). This dish must have been served before the Tang Dynasty, since Chang Wen-cheng of the Tang Dynasty recorded the custom in his Chao Yeh Chien Tsai.

Despite the fact that, today, the Chi­nese call the mouse lao shu, few of them know that, according to documents, the people in northeastern China during the Han Dynasty called the bat lao shu. The lao shu the Chinese people now refer to as mouse was simply called shu in the Chin Dynasty (221-207 B.C.). In Chao Nan and Hsing Lu, two chapters of the Book of Odes, this saying is recorded: "Who says the shu has no teeth. Then why are there holes under the walls of my house'?"

A number of stories concerning mice are recorded in the books of history. Among them, the most ridiculous may be the story about a dethroned emperor of the Chi Dynasty (479-502), of the Period of the Southern Dynasties. Before he became a ruler of the Chi Dy­nasty, Hsiao Pao-chuan was merely the second son of Emperor Ming. Then be­ cause his oldest brother had caught an incapacitating disease, the Emperor named Pao-chuan crown prince. But the new heir apparent was fond of play instead of study-he never tired of the sport of catching mice, even hunting them with the court eunuchs in the depth of night. He became a laughingstock in his time. It was predicted that if someday he ascend­ed the throne, he would not be able to stay long. And exactly as people had thought, after no more than two years, the muddle-headed mouse hunter was dethroned by Emperor Wu of the Liang Dynasty and demoted to the rank of marquis.

Any word or phrase that can be crowned with the word shu (mouse) has an unpleasant meaning, for instance, shu pei (scoundrel), shu tzu (mean fellow), shu chi (limited talent), shu tan (cowardice), shu tsuan (running away like frightened rats), mu kuang ju shu (literally, a mouse can see only an inch-shortsighted), shu tu chi chang (literally, a rat's stomach and a chicken's in­testines- narrowmindedness), chang tou shu mu (with the head of a roe­buck and the eyes of a rat-repulsively ugly and sly-looking)....

In China, no one knows exactly when the mouse became the symbol of a corrupt official. One song concerning a rat is included in the chapter on Wei Feng in the Book of Odes:

"O big rat, big rat, please do not eat my millet grains. Please do not eat my wheat. Please do not eat my rice seedlings. I have fed you for three years. What you have done to the fields shows that you are forgetful of all the favors I have done for you. Now, I have made up my mind to leave here until I find a land I love."

Naturally, the rodent in the song refers to the landlord or a corrupt official. But, one thing also worth noting is that the singer choses only to escape from such an adverse situation, instead of resisting.

There is a rodent allusion connected to the popular phrase chi chuan sheng tien (A powerful person's underlings will rise). When Tang Fang attained perfection in Taoism and entered heaven, even his chickens, dogs, and house ascended after him. Then, a ques­tion arose: Was it true that the disgusting mice from Tang's house followed, but failed to rise high enough and then fell back to the ground? Yi Yuan, a book-collection of weird items authored by Liu Ching-shu of the Sung Dynasty, records: ".... All the chickens and dogs followed him, except the mice fell down to the ground, though they did not die." Shui Ching Chu, authored by Li Tao-yuan of the Northern Wei Dynasty (534-550), states: "Facing toward the sun, Tang Fang ascended to heaven. His chickens crowed in the skies and his dogs barked above the clouds. Only the mice, because of their despicability, were left on earth."

In the eyes of the Chinese people, the mouse has a dual personality. Sometimes he is cowardly and furtive, some­times self- composed. In his Chu Shu Fu, Lu Yuan-ming of the Later Wei Dynasty (386-534 A.D.) gives a trenchant description of the arrogant, contented manner of a mouse in his house: "Its whiskers look like those of half-lowered wheat ears; the eye, the half of a bean; the ear, the tender leaf of the Chinese scholar tree; the tail, the last drops of wine on the side of a cup." And he added, "It either plays with its whisk­ers in my bed, or walks unhurriedly through each of the rooms. So self­-composed."

There is an ancient legend among the Chinese to the effect that mice fathers marry off their daughters during the Chinese New Year holidays. Since this year is "The Year of the Mouse," the tale has achieved renewed popularity.

The story The Wedding of the Mice has been told through generations in almost every province in China:

"Once upon a time, during the Ming Dynasty, there lived a family named Hua at Suhsi in Kiangsu Province. There was an abandoned guard tower in the family yard. One year at the stroke of midnight on New Year's Eve, the loud and high-pitched sounds of drums, gongs, and bugles were heard from the tower. The family members rushed to take a look inside, through the tower's wall cracks.

"When they beheld the scene, they were all dumbfounded. There was an imposing march of hundreds of midget people carrying an elaborate trousseau into a hole at the foot of a wall. They heard similar noises the next night and were even more surprised to find the tower beautifully and brilliantly decorated. They saw tiny bearers carrying a palanquin, moving toward a hole in the tower. The sob of a young lady was heard from inside the sedan chair, and the weeping of an old man following the chair. The procession disappeared into the hole.

"The Hua family peeked into the tower every day. A hair month later, during the Lantern Festival, they heard the cries of a new-born baby. And a few days later they round that the baby was old enough to study with a white-bearded teacher.

"One day, a Taoist priest passed by and warned the family that the whole house was haunted by evil spirits. He told them he was willing to help them, and after he had exorcised the spirits, the family opened the door to the old tower to sadly discover thousands of mice bodies."

It become a custom for people to go to bed early on the evening of the mouse wedding day, and to remind themselves to put out all the oil-lamps to avoid disrupting the joyrul occasion.

In the minds of today's children, turtles, toads, fish, and shrimp appear in the procession escorting the mouse bride to her mouse groom's home. In the Chen-chiang area of Kiangsu Province, child­ren used to love to sing this song:

There is a moon in the sky,
      a watchtower on earth;
A toad jumps over the watchtower.
While I was grinding rice
      in Suchow one day.
I saw a wedding of the mice.
Turtles blew the flute,
      tortoises beat the drum.
Two shrimp danced in front.
Fish came to light the lanterns;
Silver carp came as guests ....

Popular

Latest