The Ape Sun Wu Kung

Far, far to the east, out in the middle of the Great Sea, lies an island called the Mountain of Flowers and Fruits. On that mountain stands a tall rock. Ever since the world began, this rock had been soaking up the secret life-giving power of heaven and earth, of the sun and the moon, and that power had filled it with a magic gift for creating. One day the rock split open, and out rolled an egg made of stone. And by magic, a stone ape hatched out of the egg.

As soon as he had broken out of the shell, the ape bowed in every direction. Little by little he learned to walk and to jump. Two beams of golden light shot from his eyes, so bright that they reached the highest palaces of heaven and frightened the Lord of the Heavens himself. The Lord sent out two gods, Thousandmile-Eye and Fine-Ear, to find out what was going on. They came back and reported, “The light is shining from the eyes of a stone ape who hatched from an egg that came out of the magic rock. There is nothing to worry about.”

The ape grew up bit by bit. He ran and leaped about, drank from the springs in the valleys and ate the flowers and fruit, and the time passed in carefree play.

One hot summer day he went down to the valley with the other apes of the island to bathe and cool off. There they found a waterfall plunging down a high cliff. “Whoever can push through that waterfall without getting hurt shall be our king,” the apes said to one another. The stone ape jumped into the air with delight. “I’ll go through!” he cried. He shut his eyes, crouched low and sprang right through the roaring, foaming water.

When he opened his eyes, he saw an iron bridge, hidden from the outside world by the waterfall as if behind a curtain. At the entrance stood a stone tablet carved with the words: “This is the heavenly cave behind the water-curtain on the Blessed Island of Flowers and Fruits.” Overjoyed, the stone ape leaped back through the waterfall and told the others what he had found. They were delighted and begged him to take them there. So the whole tribe of apes jumped through the water onto the iron bridge and crowded into the cave palace. Inside was a hearth with heaps of pots, cups and dishes, every one of them made of stone.

Then the apes honored the stone ape as their king and gave him the name Handsome King of the Apes. He made long-tailed monkeys, ring-tailed monkeys and all sorts of others his officials and advisers, his servants and attendants. They lived a blissful life on the mountain. At night they slept in their cave palace, they kept clear of birds and beasts, and their king was perfectly happy. About three hundred years went by in this way.

One day, as the King of the Apes sat feasting merrily with his subjects, he suddenly began to cry. The apes were alarmed and asked why he had turned so sad in the middle of all their happiness.

“It’s true that we don’t have to obey the laws of men,” said the King, “and that no bird or beast dares attack us. But little by little we are growing old and weak, and one day the hour will come when Death, the Ancient One, will carry us off. Then in a moment we will be gone, and we can never live on earth again!”

When the apes heard this, they covered their faces and sobbed. But an old ape stepped out of the crowd. His arms were joined in such a way that he could slide the length of one into the other. “O King,” he called out loudly, “the fact that this thought has come to you shows that you have awakened to the search for truth! Of all living creatures, only three kinds are free from Death’s power: the Buddhas, the blessed spirits and the gods. Whoever reaches one of these three ranks escapes the wheel of being born again and lives as long as the heavens themselves.”

“Where do these three kinds of beings live?” asked the King of the Apes.

“They live in caves and on holy mountains in the great world of mortals,” the old ape replied.

The King was very pleased. He told his apes that he would go and seek out gods and holy spirits to learn the road to everlasting life from them. The apes hauled in peaches and other fruit and sweet wine for a farewell feast, and they all celebrated together.

Early the next morning the Handsome King of the Apes built himself a raft out of old pine trunks and took a bamboo stick to push it along. He climbed aboard all alone and poled his way across the Great Sea. The wind and waves were kind to him, and he reached the mainland and went ashore. On the beach he came across a fisherman. He went straight up to him, knocked him down, pulled off his clothes and put them on himself.

Then he wandered from place to place, visiting all the famous sights. He went into market squares and crowded cities and learned how to behave properly and how to talk and act like a well-mannered human being. But his heart was set on learning the teachings of the Buddhas, the blessed spirits and the holy gods, and the people of that country cared only about honors and riches. Not one of them seemed to care about life itself. He went on like this until nine years had slipped by without his noticing.

At last he came to the shore of the Western Sea. “Surely there are gods and saints on the other side of this sea!” he thought. So he built another raft, floated across the Western Sea and reached the land of the West. There he let his raft drift away and went ashore.

After searching for many days, he suddenly saw a tall mountain with deep, quiet valleys. As the Ape King walked toward it, he heard someone singing in the woods, and the song sounded like one the blessed spirits might sing. He hurried into the forest to see who it was and found a woodcutter at work.

The Ape King bowed and said, “Honored and holy master, I throw myself down and worship at your feet!”

“I’m only a working man,” said the woodcutter. “Why do you call me a holy master?”

“If you aren’t a blessed god, how is it that you sing that heavenly song?”

The woodcutter laughed. “You know something about music! The truth is, a saint taught me that song.”

“If you know a saint,” said the Ape King, “he can’t live far from here. Please show me the way to his home.”

“It isn’t far,” the woodcutter answered. “This is called the Mountain of the Heart. In it there is a cave where a saint lives whose name is The Discerner. He has had countless disciples who reached blessedness, and thirty or forty are still living with him. Just follow this path to the south, and you can’t miss his home.”

The Ape King thanked him, and sure enough, he came to the cave the woodcutter had described. The gate was shut, and he did not dare knock. So he sprang up into a pine tree, picked pine cones and gobbled up the seeds. Before long one of the saint’s disciples opened the gate. “What kind of animal is making all that racket?” he asked.

The Ape King jumped down from the tree and bowed. “I have come looking for the truth,” he said. “I didn’t dare knock.”

The disciple had to laugh. “Our master was sitting deep in meditation,” he said, “when he told me to bring in the seeker after truth who was standing outside the gate, and here you really are. Well, come along with me!”

The Ape King smoothed down his clothes, straightened his hat and went in. A long passage led past splendid buildings and quiet, hidden huts to the place where the master sat upright on a seat of white marble, with his disciples standing ready to serve him on his right and left. The Ape King threw himself down on the ground and greeted the master humbly. When the master questioned him, he explained how he had found his way there. And when he was asked his name, he said, “I have no name. I am the ape who came out of the stone.”

“Then I will give you a name,” said the master. “I name you Sun Wu Kung.”

The Ape King thanked him joyfully, and from then on he was called Sun Wu Kung. The master told his oldest disciple to teach Sun Wu Kung how to sweep and clean, how to come and go properly, good manners, how to work in the fields and how to water the gardens. In time he learned to write, to burn incense and to read the holy scriptures. Six or seven years passed in this way.

One day the master took his teaching seat and began to speak about the great truth. Sun Wu Kung grasped the hidden meaning of his words and started to jig and dance with joy.

“Sun Wu Kung,” the master scolded, “you still haven’t put aside your wild nature! What do you mean by behaving so improperly?”

Sun Wu Kung bowed. “I was listening carefully,” he said, “when the meaning of your words suddenly opened up in my heart, and without thinking I began to dance for joy. I wasn’t giving in to my wild nature.”

“If your spirit has truly awakened,” said the master, “then I will show you the great truth. But there are three hundred and sixty roads that lead to it. Which road shall I teach you?”

“Whichever you like, Master!”

“Shall I teach you the road of magic?”

“What does magic teach?”

“It teaches you to call up spirits, to consult oracles and to foretell good and bad fortune.”

“Can it give you everlasting life?”

“No.”

“Then I won’t learn it.”

“Shall I teach you the sciences, then? They are the nine schools of the three faiths. You learn to read the holy books, chant spells, speak with the gods and summon the saints.”

“Can they give you everlasting life?”

“No.”

“Then I won’t learn them.”

“The road of stillness is a very good road. It teaches you to live without food, to rest in silent purity and to sit lost in meditation.”

“Will that give you everlasting life?”

“No.”

“Then I won’t learn it.”

“The road of action is a good one too. It teaches you to balance the forces of life, to exercise the body, to brew the elixir of life and to hold your breath.”

“Will that give you everlasting life?”

“It will not.”

“Then I won’t learn it! I won’t learn it!”

At that the master pretended to lose his temper. He jumped down from his seat, seized his cane and scolded, “What an ape! He won’t learn this, and he won’t learn that! What on earth are you waiting to learn?” He rapped Sun Wu Kung three times on the head, went into his inner room and shut the great door behind him.

The disciples were very upset and heaped blame on Sun Wu Kung. But he paid no attention and only smiled quietly to himself, because he had understood the riddle the master had set him. “Three taps on the head,” he thought, “means I must be ready at the third watch of the night. Going into his inner room and shutting the great door means I must come to him by the back door, and he will explain the great truth to me in secret.”

So he waited until evening and pretended to lie down to sleep with the other disciples. But at the third watch he got up quietly and crept to the back door. Sure enough, it was standing a little open. He slipped inside and went to stand by the master’s bed. The master was asleep with his face to the wall, and the ape did not dare to wake him, so he knelt down beside the bed. After a while the master turned over and murmured a little verse to himself:

“Hard, hard work it is
To make the truth plain;
Unless you find the right pupil,
You talk yourself hoarse in vain.”

“I am waiting here respectfully,” said Sun Wu Kung.

The master threw on his clothes, sat up in bed and said sharply, “You wretched ape! Why aren’t you asleep? What are you doing here?”

“But yesterday you showed me that I should come to you at the third watch, by the back door, to be taught the truth,” Sun Wu Kung answered. “That is why I dared to come. If you will be kind enough to teach me, I will be grateful to you forever.”

“This ape really has brains in his head, to understand me so well,” the master thought. Aloud he said, “Sun Wu Kung, your wish is granted. I will speak openly with you. Come close, and I will show you the way to everlasting life.”

Then he whispered into the ape’s ear a holy magic spell for gathering together the forces of life, and he explained the secret knowledge word by word. Sun Wu Kung listened eagerly and soon knew it all by heart. He thanked his teacher, went out and lay down to sleep. From then on he practiced breathing in the right way, kept watch over his soul and spirit and tamed the wild urges of his heart. Three more years passed while he did this, and then the work was complete.

One day the master said to him, “Three great dangers still threaten you. Anyone who sets out to do something beyond the ordinary faces them, because the demons and spirits grow jealous and hunt him down. Only those who can overcome these three dangers live as long as the heavens.”

Sun Wu Kung was frightened. “Is there any way to protect myself?” he asked.

So the master whispered another secret spell in his ear, and with it Sun Wu Kung gained the power to change himself into seventy-two different forms. Within a few days he had mastered the art.

One day the master was walking in front of the cave with his disciples. He called Sun Wu Kung over and asked, “How far have you come with your art? Can you fly yet?”

“Yes, indeed,” said the ape.

“Then let me see.”

The ape sprang five or six feet up into the air. Clouds gathered under his feet, and he walked on them for a few hundred yards before he had to come down to earth again.

The master smiled. “That’s what I call crawling about on the clouds,” he said, “not sailing on them like the gods and saints, who fly over the whole world in a single day. I will teach you the magic spell for turning cloud somersaults. With one somersault you travel eighteen thousand miles.”

Sun Wu Kung thanked him joyfully, and from that day on he could travel any distance in any direction he liked.

One day Sun Wu Kung was sitting with the other disciples under the pine tree by the gate, talking over the secrets of their teaching. In the end they asked him to show them some of his transformations. Sun Wu Kung could not keep his secret to himself, so he agreed.

“Just give me a task!” he said with a grin. “What do you want me to turn into?”

“Turn into a pine tree,” they said.

Sun Wu Kung muttered a spell and spun around, and there before their eyes stood a pine tree. They all burst into loud guffaws. The master heard the noise and came out of the gate, trailing his cane behind him.

“Why are you making such a racket?” he called sharply.

“Sun Wu Kung turned himself into a pine tree,” they said, “and it made us laugh.”

“Sun Wu Kung, come here!” said the master. “Tell me, what tricks are you up to? Why do you need to turn yourself into a pine tree? All your hard work means nothing more to you than a chance to do magic for your friends to gape at. That shows your heart is still not under control.”

Sun Wu Kung humbly begged his pardon.

“I am not angry with you,” said the master, “but you must leave.”

With tears in his eyes, Sun Wu Kung asked, “But where shall I go?”

“You must go back where you came from,” said the master.

As Sun Wu Kung sadly said goodbye, the master gave him a stern warning. “Your savage nature is bound to bring trouble on you one day. You must never tell anyone that you were my pupil. If you breathe so much as a word of it, I will fetch your soul and shut it up in the deepest hell, where you won’t escape for a thousand ages.”

“I won’t say a word! I won’t say a word!” Sun Wu Kung promised. He thanked the master for all his kindness, turned a somersault and rose into the clouds.

Within an hour he had crossed the seas and saw the Mountain of Flowers and Fruits below him. Feeling happy and at home, he let his cloud sink to the ground. “Children, I’m back!” he shouted. At once his apes came pouring out of the valley, from behind the rocks, out of the grass and from among the trees, thousands of them, crowding around to greet him and ask about his travels.

“I have found the way to everlasting life,” Sun Wu Kung told them, “and I need never fear Death the Ancient One again.” The apes were overjoyed. They raced each other to bring him flowers and fruit, peaches and wine, and once more they honored him as the Handsome Ape King.

Then he gathered them around and asked how they had been while he was away.

“It’s a good thing you’ve come back, great king,” they said. “Not long ago a devil came and tried to take our cave by force. We fought him, but he carried off many of your children, and he will probably soon be back.”

Sun Wu Kung was furious. “What devil dares to be so bold?”

“He is the Devil-King of Chaos,” the apes answered. “He lives in the North, who knows how many miles away. We only saw him come and go in clouds and mist.”

“Just wait, I’ll deal with him!” said Sun Wu Kung, and with a somersault he vanished.

In the farthest North stands a high mountain, and on its slope is a cave with the words “The Cave of the Kidneys” written above it. Little devils were dancing in front of the door. “Tell your Devil-King to give me back my children, and be quick about it!” Sun Wu Kung shouted at them. The frightened little devils carried the message inside, and the Devil-King grabbed his sword and came out.

He was so huge and broad that he could not even see Sun Wu Kung. He wore black armor from head to toe, and he loomed over the little figures at his gate. “Cursed devil, where are your eyes?” Sun Wu Kung yelled. “Can’t you see the Venerable Sun?”

The devil looked down and saw a stone ape standing in front of him, bareheaded, dressed in red, with a yellow sash and black boots. He laughed. “You’re not even four feet tall, you’re not yet thirty years old and you have no weapon, and yet you dare to make such a fuss!”

“I’m not too small for you,” said Sun Wu Kung, “and I can make myself as big as I like. You sneer because I have no weapon, but my two fists can pound their way up to the sky.” He crouched, clenched his fists and set about the devil. The devil was big and clumsy, while Sun Wu Kung leaped about nimbly, landing blow after blow on his ribs and belly, faster and harder all the time.

In desperation the devil swung his great blade at Sun Wu Kung’s head. Sun Wu Kung dodged it and turned to his magic. He plucked out one of his hairs, chewed it, spat it into the air and said, “Change!” At once it became hundreds of little apes, who charged at the devil. Sun Wu Kung, you should know, had eighty-four thousand hairs on his body, and he could transform every single one. The sharp-eyed little apes darted around the Devil-King on every side, tearing at his clothes and tugging at his legs until he crashed full length to the ground. Then Sun Wu Kung stepped up, wrenched the blade from his hand and finished him off.

He went into the cave and freed his captive children. He called his changed hairs back to him, lit a fire and burned the wicked cave to the ground. Then he gathered up the apes he had rescued and flew home with them like a whirlwind to his cave on the Mountain of Flowers and Fruits, where all the apes welcomed them with joy.

Now that Sun Wu Kung had the Devil-King’s great blade, he drilled his apes every day. They had wooden swords and bamboo spears, and they played marching music on reed pipes. He had them build a camp so that they would be ready for any danger. Then a thought struck him. “If we go on like this, some king of men or beasts may decide to fight us, and we could never hold out against him with wooden swords and bamboo spears! What should we do?”

Four baboons stepped forward. “In the capital of the empire of Aulai there are countless soldiers,” they said, “and there are coppersmiths and steelsmiths there too. Why not buy steel and iron and have those smiths forge weapons for us?”

One somersault, and Sun Wu Kung was standing at the city moat. “Buying the weapons first would take far too long,” he said to himself. “I’d rather use magic and just take some.” He blew on the ground, and a tremendous gale sprang up, hurling sand and stones before it, so that all the soldiers in the city ran away in terror. Then he went to the armory, plucked out a hair, turned it into thousands of little apes, emptied out the whole store of weapons and flew home on a cloud.

When he gathered his people and counted them, there were seventy-seven thousand in all. They kept the whole mountain in awe, along with all the magic beasts and spirit princes who lived there, and these came out of seventy-two caves to honor Sun Wu Kung as their leader.

One day the Ape King said, “Now you all have weapons, but this blade I took from the Devil-King is too light for me. What should I do?”

The four baboons stepped forward again. “With your spirit powers, O King, you will never find a weapon fit for you anywhere on earth,” they said. “Can you travel through water?”

“All the elements obey me,” said the Ape King. “There is nowhere I cannot go.”

“The water by our cave flows into the Great Sea, to the palace of the Dragon-King of the Eastern Sea,” the baboons said. “If your magic allows it, you could go to the Dragon-King and have him give you a weapon.”

That suited the Ape King. He jumped onto the iron bridge, muttered a spell and dived into the waves. They parted in front of him, and he went on until he reached the palace of water-crystal. There a sea-spirit asked who he was. He gave his name and said, “I am the Dragon-King’s nearest neighbor, and I have come to pay him a visit.” The sea-spirit carried the message inside, and the Dragon-King of the Eastern Sea hurried out to welcome him, offered him a seat and served him tea.

“I have learned the secret knowledge and gained the powers of immortality,” said Sun Wu Kung. “I have trained my apes in warfare to defend our mountain, but I have no weapon I can use, so I have come to borrow one from you.”

The Dragon-King had General Flounder bring in a great spear, but Sun Wu Kung did not like it. Then he ordered Field-Marshal Eel to fetch a nine-pronged fork that weighed three thousand six hundred pounds. Sun Wu Kung weighed it in his hand and said, “Too light! Too light! Too light!” The alarmed Dragon-King had the heaviest weapon in his armory brought out. It weighed seven thousand two hundred pounds, and it was still too light for Sun Wu Kung. The Dragon-King swore he had nothing heavier, but Sun Wu Kung would not give up. “Just have a look around!” he said.

At last the Dragon-Queen and her daughter came out. “This saint is a nasty customer to deal with,” they told the Dragon-King. “That great iron bar is still lying here in our sea, and not long ago it was glowing red. That is probably a sign that it’s time for it to be taken away.”

“But that is the rod the Great Yu used when he put the waters in order and fixed the depths of the seas and rivers,” said the Dragon-King. “It can’t be taken away.”

“Just let him see it,” said the Dragon-Queen. “What he does with it then is none of our business.”

So the Dragon-King led Sun Wu Kung to the measuring rod. It gave off a golden glow that could be seen from far away. It was an enormous iron bar with golden bands at each end. Sun Wu Kung lifted it with all his strength. “It’s too heavy,” he said. “It ought to be a bit shorter and thinner.”

The moment he said it, the rod shrank. He tried again and found that it grew bigger or smaller whenever he told it to. It could even shrink to the size of a needle. Sun Wu Kung was delighted. He let it grow huge again and thrashed about in the sea with it until the waves shot up as high as mountains and the dragon palace shook on its foundations. The Dragon-King trembled with fear, and all his turtles, fish and crabs pulled in their heads.

Sun Wu Kung laughed. “Many thanks for the fine present!” he said. “Now I have a weapon, but I still have no armor. Rather than go knocking at two or three other doors, I expect you’ll be happy to find me a suit of mail.”

The Dragon-King said he had no armor to give.

“Then I won’t leave until you get me some,” said the ape, and he began to swing his rod.

“Don’t hurt me!” cried the terrified Dragon-King. “I’ll ask my brothers.” He had the iron drum beaten and the golden gong struck, and in a moment all his brothers came from the other seas. The Dragon-King took them aside. “This is a dreadful fellow, and we mustn’t make him angry,” he said. “First he took the rod with the golden bands from me, and now he insists on having armor too. The best thing is to give him what he wants at once and complain about him to the Lord of the Heavens later.” So the brothers brought a magic suit of golden mail, magic boots and a magic helmet.

Sun Wu Kung thanked them and went home to his cave. Beaming, he greeted the children who came out to meet him and showed them the rod with the golden bands. They all crowded around, each wanting to lift it off the ground just once, but it was like a dragonfly trying to topple a stone pillar or an ant trying to carry off a mountain. The rod would not budge a hair. The apes gaped and stuck out their tongues. “Father, how can you possibly carry such a heavy thing?” So he told them the rod’s secret and showed them what it could do.

Then he set his kingdom in order. He made the four baboons his field-marshals, and seven beast-spirits joined him as well, the ox-spirit, the dragon-spirit, the bird-spirit, the lion-spirit and the rest.

One day, after dinner, he lay down for a nap. First he shrank the bar and tucked it into his ear. As he slept, he dreamed that two men came toward him carrying a card with the name “Sun Wu Kung” written on it. They gave him no chance to fight back, but chained him and led his spirit away. When they reached a great city, the Ape King slowly came to his senses. Over the city gate hung an iron tablet engraved in big letters: “The Underworld.”

Suddenly he understood. “Why, this must be Death’s home!” he said. “But I escaped his power long ago. How dare he have me dragged here?” The more he thought about it, the angrier he grew. He pulled the golden rod out of his ear, swung it and let it grow big. Then he struck down the two officers, burst his chains and rolled into the city with his bar swinging before him.

The ten Princes of the Dead were terrified. They bowed to him and asked, “Who are you?”

“If you don’t know me, why did you send for me and have me dragged here?” said Sun Wu Kung. “I am the heaven-born saint Sun Wu Kung of the Mountain of Flowers and Fruits. Now, who are you? Tell me your names quickly, or I’ll hit you!”

The ten Princes of the Dead humbly told him their names.

“I, the Venerable Sun, have won everlasting life,” said Sun Wu Kung. “You have no power over me! Quick, bring me the Book of Life!”

They did not dare refuse, and had the scribe bring in the Book. Sun Wu Kung opened it. Under the heading “Apes,” number 1350, he read: “Sun Wu Kung, the heaven-born stone ape. He shall live three hundred and twenty-four years and then die without illness.” He took the brush from the table and crossed out the whole ape family from the Book of Life. Then he threw the Book down. “Now we’re even!” he said. “From today on I won’t put up with any more of your cheek!”

He cleared a path out of the Underworld with his rod, and the ten Princes of the Dead did not dare to stop him. They only complained about him afterward to the Lord of the Heavens.

Just outside the city Sun Wu Kung slipped and fell, and that woke him up. He realized he had been dreaming. He called his four baboons and said, “Splendid, splendid! I was dragged off to Death’s castle, and I stirred up quite a commotion there. I made them hand over the Book of Life, and I crossed out the hour of death for all the apes!” And from then on the apes of the mountain no longer died, because their names had been struck out in the Underworld.

Meanwhile the Lord of the Heavens sat in his palace with all his servants gathered around him. One saint stepped forward and presented the complaint of the Dragon-King of the Eastern Sea, and another presented the complaint of the ten Princes of the Dead. The Lord of the Heavens read both reports. Each told of the wild, unruly behavior of Sun Wu Kung. So the Lord ordered a god to go down to earth and arrest him.

But the Evening Star came forward and said, “This ape was born from the purest powers of heaven and earth, of sun and moon. He has gained the secret knowledge and become an immortal. Remember, O Lord, your great love for every living thing, and forgive his offense! Order him to be called up to heaven and given a post here, so that he may come to his senses. Then, if he disobeys your commands again, let him be punished without mercy.”

The Lord of the Heavens agreed. He had the order written out and told the Evening Star to deliver it to Sun Wu Kung. The Evening Star rode down on a many-colored cloud to the Mountain of Flowers and Fruits. He greeted Sun Wu Kung and said, “The Lord heard about what you have done and meant to punish you. I am the Evening Star of the Western Skies, and I spoke up for you. So he has sent me to bring you up to heaven, where you will be given a post.”

Sun Wu Kung was overjoyed. “I was just thinking I ought to pay Heaven a visit one of these days,” he said, “and sure enough, Old Star, here you are to fetch me!” He called his four baboons and told them firmly, “Take good care of our mountain! I’m going up to heaven to have a little look around.”

He climbed onto a cloud with the Evening Star and floated upward. But he kept turning somersaults and went so fast that the Evening Star on his slow cloud was left far behind. Before he knew it, Sun Wu Kung was at the Southern Gate of Heaven and about to stroll straight through. The gatekeeper tried to stop him, but he paid no attention, and they were still arguing when the Evening Star caught up and explained. Then Sun Wu Kung was let in. When he reached the palace of the Lord of the Heavens, he stood there bolt upright without bowing his head.

“So this hairy face with the pointed snout is Sun Wu Kung?” asked the Lord of the Heavens.

“Yes, I am the Venerable Sun!”

All the Lord’s servants were shocked. “This wild ape doesn’t even bow, and he has the nerve to call himself the Venerable Sun! His crime deserves a thousand deaths!”

But the Lord said, “He has come up from the earth below and doesn’t know our rules yet. We will forgive him.” Then he ordered that a post be found for him. The marshal of the heavenly court reported, “There is no post free anywhere, but an official is needed in the heavenly stables.” So the Lord made him Stablemaster of the Heavenly Horses. The servants told him to give thanks for this honor. “Thanks to the command!” Sun Wu Kung called out loudly. He took his letter of appointment and went off to the stables to begin his new job.

He worked with great energy. The heavenly horses grew sleek and fat, and the stables filled with young foals. Half a month flew by, and then his heavenly friends held a banquet for him. As they ate, Sun Wu Kung happened to ask, “Stablemaster? What sort of title is that?”

“Why, it’s an official title.”

“And what rank does it have?”

“No rank at all.”

“Ah,” said the ape, “so it’s so high that it stands above every other honor?”

“No, it isn’t high. It isn’t high at all,” said his friends. “It isn’t even listed on the official roll. It’s a very lowly post. All you have to do is look after the horses. If you make them fat, you get a good mark, but if they grow thin or sick or fall down, you’ll be punished at once.”

The Ape King flew into a rage and leaped up. “What, they treat me, the Venerable Sun, so shamefully? On my mountain I was a king and a father! Why did he have to lure me into his heaven to feed horses? I won’t do it any longer! I won’t do it any longer!” And in a flash he had overturned the table, pulled the rod with the golden bands from his ear, made it big and fought his way out to the Southern Gate of Heaven. Nobody dared to stop him.

Back on his island mountain, his people crowded around him. “Great king, you’ve been gone more than ten years!” they said. “Why have you only come back now?”

“I was hardly ten days in Heaven,” said the Ape King. “This Lord of the Heavens doesn’t know how to treat people. He made me his stablemaster, and I had to feed his horses. I’m so ashamed I could die. But I didn’t put up with it, and here I am again!”

His apes hurried to hold a banquet to cheer him up. While they sat at the table, two horned devil-kings came and gave him a yellow imperial robe. He slipped it on with delight and made the two devil-kings leaders of his vanguard. They thanked him and began to flatter him. “With your power and wisdom, great king, why should you serve the Lord of the Heavens? It would be perfectly proper to call you the Great Saint Who Is Heaven’s Equal.”

The ape liked this very much. “Good, good!” he said, and he ordered his four baboons to have a flag made at once with the words “The Great Saint Who Is Heaven’s Equal.” From then on he had himself called by that title.

When the Lord of the Heavens heard that the ape had fled, he ordered Li Dsing, the god who carries a pagoda, and Li Dsing’s third son, Notscha, to capture him. They marched out at the head of a heavenly army, set up camp in front of his cave and sent a brave warrior to challenge him to single combat. Sun Wu Kung beat him easily and sent him running, and even shouted after him with a laugh, “What a windbag! And he calls himself a heavenly warrior! I won’t kill you. Run along and send me a better man!”

When Notscha saw this, he rushed up to fight himself.

“Whose little boy are you?” Sun Wu Kung asked him. “You mustn’t play around here, or you might get hurt!”

“Cursed ape!” Notscha shouted. “I am Prince Notscha, and I’ve been ordered to take you prisoner!” And he swung his sword at Sun Wu Kung.

“Very well,” said Sun Wu Kung, “I’ll stand right here and not move.”

Notscha grew furious and turned himself into a god with three heads and six arms, holding six different weapons, and charged. Sun Wu Kung laughed. “The little fellow knows the trick! But easy, wait a moment. I’ll change too!” And he also became a figure with three heads and six arms, swinging three gold-banded rods. Then they fought. Their blows fell so fast that it looked as if thousands of weapons were flying through the air, and after thirty rounds neither had won.

Then Sun Wu Kung had an idea. He secretly pulled out a hair, turned it into a copy of himself and let it go on fighting Notscha. He himself slipped around behind Notscha and struck him so hard on the left arm with his rod that his knees gave way with the pain, and he had to retreat in defeat. “This devil-ape is far too strong,” Notscha told his father Li Dsing. “I can’t beat him!” There was nothing for it but to go back to Heaven and admit defeat. The Lord of the Heavens bowed his head and tried to think of some other hero to send.

Then the Evening Star came forward again. “This ape is so strong and so bold that probably none of us is a match for him,” he said. “He rebelled because the post of stablemaster seemed too lowly for him. The best thing would be to soften justice with mercy, let him have his way and name him Great Saint Who Is Heaven’s Equal. We need only give him the empty title, without any duties, and the matter will be settled.”

The Lord of the Heavens agreed and sent the Evening Star once more to summon the new saint. When Sun Wu Kung heard he had come, he said, “Old Evening Star is a good fellow!” He had his army line up to give his visitor a grand welcome, put on his ceremonial robes and went out politely to meet him. The Evening Star told him what had happened in Heaven and said he had brought his appointment as Great Saint Who Is Heaven’s Equal.

The Great Saint laughed. “You spoke up for me before, Old Star, and now you’ve taken my side again. Many thanks! Many thanks!”

When they came before the Lord of the Heavens together, the Lord said, “The rank of Great Saint Who Is Heaven’s Equal is very high. But now you must not play any more pranks.” The Great Saint thanked him, and the Lord ordered two skilled builders to put up a palace for him east of the peach garden of the Queen-Mother of the West. He was led into it with every possible honor.

Now the Saint was perfectly content. He had everything his heart could desire and no work at all to bother him. He took life easy, wandered about Heaven wherever he pleased and paid calls on the gods. He showed a little respect to the Three Pure Ones and the Four Rulers, but the planet gods, the lords of the twenty-eight houses of the moon and of the twelve signs of the zodiac and all the other stars he greeted with a cheerful “Hey, you!” So he idled away day after day among the clouds of Heaven with nothing to do.

At last one of the wise ones said to the Lord of the Heavens, “The holy Sun has been idle day after day. There is a danger that some mischief may come into his head. It might be better to give him something to do.” So the Lord called the Great Saint and said, “The peaches of life in the Queen-Mother’s garden will soon be ripe. I put you in charge of guarding them. Do your duty faithfully!”

The Saint was pleased and thanked him. Then he went to the garden, where the keepers and gardeners knelt to receive him. “How many trees are there in the garden altogether?” he asked.

“Three thousand six hundred,” the gardener answered. “The twelve hundred trees in the front row have red blossoms and small fruit that ripens once every three thousand years. Whoever eats it becomes bright and healthy. The twelve hundred trees in the middle row have double blossoms and sweet fruit that ripens every six thousand years. Whoever eats it can float in the rosy dawn without ever growing old. The twelve hundred trees in the back row have red-striped fruit with small stones, which ripens every nine thousand years. Whoever eats it lives forever, as long as the heavens themselves, and stays untouched for thousands of ages.”

The Saint listened happily. He checked the records, and after that he came every day or two to see how things were going. Most of the peaches in the back row were already ripe. Each time he came, he found some excuse to send the keepers and gardeners away, then sprang up into the trees and stuffed himself with peaches to his heart’s content.

Now the Queen-Mother of the West was getting ready for the great peach banquet to which she always invited all the gods of Heaven. She sent out the fairies in their seven-colored gowns with baskets to pick the peaches. “The garden is in the care of the Great Saint Who Is Heaven’s Equal now,” the keeper told them, “so you must report to him first.” He led the seven fairies into the garden, and they searched everywhere for the Great Saint but could not find him. “We have our orders, and we mustn’t be late,” they said. “We’ll start picking in the meantime.” They filled several baskets from the front row. In the second row the peaches were already scarce, and in the back row only one half-ripe peach was left hanging. They pulled down the branch, picked it and let the branch spring back up.

Now the Great Saint had turned himself into a peach worm and was taking his midday nap on that very branch. Rudely woken, he took on his true shape, grabbed his rod and was about to strike the fairies.

“The Queen-Mother sent us here,” they cried. “Don’t be angry, Great Saint!”

“And whom has the Queen-Mother invited?” asked the Great Saint.

“All the gods and saints of Heaven, of the earth and of the world below.”

“Has she invited me too?”

“Not that we know of,” said the fairies.

The Saint grew angry. He muttered a spell and said, “Stay! Stay! Stay!” and the seven fairies were frozen to the spot. Then he jumped on a cloud and sailed off toward the Queen-Mother’s palace.

On the way he met the Barefoot God. “Where are you going?” he asked.

“To the peach banquet.”

The Saint told him a lie. “The Lord of the Heavens has ordered me to tell all the gods and saints to go first to the Hall of Purity to rehearse the ceremonies, and then go to the Queen-Mother together.” Then he turned himself into the image of the Barefoot God, sailed to the Queen-Mother’s palace, brought his cloud down and walked in as calmly as you please.

The feast was ready, but none of the gods had come yet. Suddenly the Great Saint smelled wine and saw nearly a hundred barrels of precious nectar standing in a side room. His mouth watered. He pulled out a few hairs and turned them into sleep worms, which crept into the noses of the cup-bearers so that they all fell asleep. Then he feasted on the delicious food, opened the barrels and drank until he was nearly senseless. “This whole business is starting to make me nervous,” he said to himself. “I’d better go home and sleep for a while.” He stumbled out of the garden on unsteady legs and, sure enough, lost his way and ended up at the home of Laotzse.

There he came to his senses, straightened his clothes and went in. No one was about, because Laotzse was visiting the God of Light, and all his servants were with him, listening. Finding the house empty, the Great Saint went all the way into the inner room where Laotzse brewed the elixir of life. Beside the stove stood five gourds full of pills of life that had already been rolled. “I’ve been meaning to make a couple of these pills for a long time,” said the Great Saint, “so it suits me nicely to find them here.” He emptied the gourds and gobbled up every pill.

Having eaten and drunk his fill, he began to think. “Bad, bad! The damage I’ve done can’t easily be put right. If they catch me, my life will be in danger. I’d better go back down to earth and stay a king!” So he made himself invisible, slipped out through the Western Gate of Heaven and went home to the Mountain of Flowers and Fruits, where he told his welcoming people all about his adventures.

When he described the nectar of the peach garden, his apes said, “Couldn’t you go back and steal a few jars of that wine, so that we can taste it too and live forever?” The Ape King was willing. He turned a somersault, crept into the garden unseen and picked up four more barrels, two under his arms and two in his hands. Then he vanished without a trace and carried them back to his cave, where he enjoyed them with his apes.

Meanwhile, after a night and a day, the seven fairies the Great Saint had frozen to the spot were able to move again. They picked up their baskets and told the Queen-Mother what had happened. The cup-bearers came running too, to report that someone unknown had wrecked the food and drink. The Queen-Mother went to complain to the Lord of the Heavens. Soon afterward Laotzse arrived to report the theft of his pills of life, the Barefoot God came to say that the Great Saint Who Is Heaven’s Equal had tricked him, and servants rushed in from the Great Saint’s palace to say that their master had vanished. The Lord of the Heavens was alarmed. “This whole mess is surely the work of that devil of an ape!” he said.

So the entire army of Heaven was called out to catch the ape, together with all the star gods, the time gods and the mountain gods, with Li Dsing once more in command. He surrounded the whole mountain and spread the sky-net and the earth-net so that no one could slip away. Then he sent his bravest heroes into battle. The ape fought them off bravely from dawn to sunset, but by then his most loyal followers had been captured, and that was more than he could bear. He pulled out a hair and turned it into thousands of Ape Kings, all laying about them with gold-banded iron rods. The heavenly army was beaten, and the ape went back to his cave to rest.

Now Guan Yin had also gone to the peach banquet and had learned what Sun Wu Kung had done. She was visiting the Lord of the Heavens just as Li Dsing came in to report his great defeat on the Mountain of Flowers and Fruits. “I can suggest a hero who will surely beat the ape,” Guan Yin told the Lord. “It is your grandson, Yang Oerlang. He has conquered all the spirits of beasts and birds and overthrown the elves of the grass and bushes. He knows how to deal with devils like this.”

So Yang Oerlang was sent for, and Li Dsing took him to his camp and asked how he meant to defeat the ape. Yang Oerlang laughed. “I think I’ll have to outdo him at changing shapes,” he said. “It would be best to take away the sky-net, so that nothing gets in the way of our fight.” He asked Li Dsing to station himself high in the air holding the magic spirit mirror, so that if the ape made himself invisible, the mirror would find him again. When everything was arranged, Yang Oerlang went out with his spirits to give battle in front of the cave.

The ape sprang out and saw a mighty hero with a three-pointed sword standing before him. “And who might you be?” he asked.

“I am Yang Oerlang, grandson of the Lord of the Heavens!”

The ape laughed. “Oh yes, I remember! His daughter ran off with a certain Sir Yang, and Heaven gave them a son. You must be that son!”

Furious, Yang Oerlang charged at him with his spear, and a fierce battle began. They fought three hundred rounds without either winning. Then Yang Oerlang turned himself into a giant with a black face and red hair. “Not bad,” said the ape, “but I can do that too!” And they went on fighting as giants. But the ape’s baboons were terrified, and Yang Oerlang’s beast spirits and planet spirits pressed the apes so hard that most of them were overpowered and the rest ran and hid. When the ape saw this, his heart sank. He gave up his giant shape, grabbed his rod and fled, with Yang Oerlang hot on his heels.

In his need the ape shrank his rod to a needle, stuck it in his ear, turned into a sparrow and flew up to the top of a tree. Yang Oerlang suddenly lost sight of him, but his sharp eyes soon saw through the disguise. He threw down his spear and crossbow, became a sparrow hawk and swooped at the sparrow. The sparrow soared high into the sky as a cormorant. Yang Oerlang shook out his feathers, became a great sea crane and shot up into the clouds after it. The cormorant dropped down into a valley and dived into a stream as a fish.

When Yang Oerlang reached the valley and could not find the trail, he said to himself, “This ape must have turned into a fish or a crab. I’ll change shape too, and catch him.” So he became a fish hawk and hovered over the water. The ape, down in the water, saw the fish hawk and knew it was Yang Oerlang. He swung around and fled, and when his pursuer was only a beak’s length behind, he crawled ashore as a water snake and hid in the grass. Yang Oerlang saw the snake slither out of the water, turned into an eagle and stretched out his claws to seize it. But the snake sprang up, turned into a speckled buzzard, a form his opponent scorned, and perched on the edge of a steep cliff.

When Yang Oerlang saw that the ape had turned himself into a buzzard, he would not play the shape-changing game any longer. He took his own form again, picked up his crossbow and shot at the bird. The buzzard tumbled down the side of the cliff. At the bottom, the ape turned himself into a little chapel of a field god. His open mouth was the gateway, his teeth were the two halves of the door, his tongue was the statue of the god and his eyes were the windows. Only his tail he did not know what to do with, so he let it stick up stiffly at the back as a flagpole.

When Yang Oerlang reached the foot of the cliff and saw a chapel with its flagpole standing behind it, he laughed. “That ape really is a devil of an ape!” he said. “He wants to lure me inside so that he can bite me. But I won’t go in. First I’ll smash his windows, and then I’ll kick in his doors!” The ape was terrified when he heard this. He leaped like a tiger and vanished into the air without a trace. With a single somersault he reached Yang Oerlang’s own temple, took on Yang Oerlang’s shape and walked in. The spirits on guard did not recognize him and knelt to welcome him. So the ape sat down on the god’s throne and had the prayers that had come in brought to him.

When Yang Oerlang could no longer see the ape, he flew up to Li Dsing. “I was competing with the ape at changing shapes, and suddenly I lost him,” he said. “Look in the mirror!” Li Dsing looked into the magic spirit mirror and laughed. “The ape has turned himself into your double,” he said. “He’s sitting in your temple, quite at home, and making mischief.”

Yang Oerlang seized his three-pointed spear and hurried to his temple. The door spirits were bewildered. “But our master came in just this minute! How can another one be arriving now?” Yang Oerlang paid no attention. He strode into the temple and aimed his spear at Sun Wu Kung, who took back his own shape and laughed. “Young sir, don’t be angry! The god of this place is Sun Wu Kung now.” Without a word Yang Oerlang attacked him, and Sun Wu Kung picked up his rod and struck back. Fighting all the way, they burst out of the temple together and, wrapped in mist and cloud, made their way back to the Mountain of Flowers and Fruits.

All this time Guan Yin had been sitting in the great hall of Heaven with Laotzse, the Lord of the Heavens and the Queen-Mother, waiting for news. When none came, she said, “Laotzse and I will go to the Southern Gate of Heaven and see how things stand.” When they saw that the fight was still not over, she said to Laotzse, “Why don’t we give Yang Oerlang a little help? I’ll shut Sun Wu Kung up in my vase.”

“Your vase is made of porcelain,” said Laotzse. “Sun Wu Kung could smash it with his iron rod. But I have a ring of diamond that can hold every living thing. We can use that!” He flung his ring through the air from the gate of Heaven and struck Sun Wu Kung on the head with it. The ape was so busy fighting that he could not protect himself, and the blow on his forehead made him stumble. He got up again and tried to run, but Yang Oerlang’s heavenly hound bit his leg until he fell. Then Yang Oerlang and his followers came up, tied him with leather straps and fastened him in such a way that he could no longer change his shape. Laotzse took back his diamond ring and went back to the hall of Heaven with Guan Yin.

Sun Wu Kung was brought in in triumph and sentenced to death. He was taken to the place of execution and tied to a post. But every attempt to kill him, with ax and sword, with thunder and lightning, failed. Nothing harmed so much as a hair on his head.

“No wonder,” said Laotzse. “This ape has eaten the peaches, drunk the nectar and swallowed the pills of life as well. Nothing can hurt him. The best thing would be for me to take him away and put him in my stove to melt the elixir of life back out of him. Then he will crumble into dust and ashes.” So Sun Wu Kung’s chains were taken off, and Laotzse took him home, pushed him into his furnace and told the boy to keep the fire burning hot.

But around the rim of the furnace were carved the signs of the eight elemental forces. When the ape was pushed inside, he took shelter under the sign of the wind, so the fire could not harm him, and the smoke only made his eyes sting. He stayed in the furnace for seven times seven days. Then Laotzse had it opened to take a look. The moment Sun Wu Kung saw the light shining in, he could not bear to be shut up a moment longer. He sprang out and knocked the magic furnace over. He flung the guards and servants to the ground, and when Laotzse himself tried to grab him, he got such a shove that he landed with his legs sticking up in the air like an upside-down onion.

Then Sun Wu Kung took his rod out of his ear and laid about him wildly, smashing everything in his path, until the star gods shut their doors and the guardians of Heaven ran away. He reached the palace of the Lord of the Heavens, and the gatekeeper with his steel whip only just managed to hold him back. Then the thirty-six thunder gods were sent against him. They surrounded him, but they could not catch him.

“Buddha will know what to do,” said the Lord of the Heavens. “Send for him at once!”

So Buddha came up out of the West with his disciples Ananda and Kashiapa. When he saw the uproar, he said, “First of all, put down your weapons and bring out the Saint. I wish to speak with him.” The gods drew back.

Sun Wu Kung snorted. “Who are you, that you dare speak to me?”

Buddha smiled. “I have come from the blessed West. I am Buddha. I have heard about the rebellion you have stirred up, and I have come to tame you.”

“I am the stone ape who has gained the secret knowledge,” said Sun Wu Kung. “I am master of seventy-two transformations, and I will live as long as Heaven itself. What has the Lord of the Heavens done to earn the right to sit on his throne forever? Let him make way for me, and I’ll be satisfied!”

Buddha smiled again. “You are an animal who has gained magic powers. How can you expect to rule here as Lord of the Heavens? You should know that the Lord of the Heavens has labored for countless ages to perfect his virtue. How many years would it take you to reach the dignity he has won? And tell me, is there anything else you can do besides your shape-changing tricks?”

“I can turn cloud somersaults,” said Sun Wu Kung. “Each one carries me eighteen thousand miles. Surely that’s enough to make me Lord of the Heavens?”

“Let us make a bet,” said Buddha, still smiling. “If you can leave my hand with one of your somersaults, I will ask the Lord of the Heavens to make way for you. But if you cannot get out of my hand, you must let me put you in chains.”

Sun Wu Kung could hardly keep from laughing. “This Buddha is out of his mind!” he thought. “His hand isn’t even a foot long. How could I fail to jump out of it?” So he opened his mouth wide and said, “Agreed!”

Buddha held out his right hand, which looked like a small lotus leaf. Sun Wu Kung jumped into it in one bound and said, “Go!” Then he turned somersault after somersault, flying along like a whirlwind. As he flew, he saw five tall, reddish pillars rising up to the sky. “That must be the end of the world!” he thought. “Now I’ll turn back and become Lord of the Heavens. But first I’ll write my name here to prove I came this far.” He pulled out a hair, turned it into a writing brush and wrote in big letters on the middle pillar: “The Great Saint Who Is Heaven’s Equal.” Then he somersaulted back to his starting point, jumped down from Buddha’s hand and cried with a laugh, “Now hurry up and see that the Lord of the Heavens clears out of his palace for me! I’ve been to the end of the world and left my mark there!”

“Wicked ape!” Buddha scolded. “How dare you say you have left my hand? Look and see whether ‘The Great Saint Who Is Heaven’s Equal’ is written on my middle finger!”

Sun Wu Kung was terribly frightened, because at the first glance he saw that it was true. But he pretended not to believe it, said he would take another look and tried to use the moment to escape. Buddha, however, closed his hand over him, pushed him out of the gate of Heaven and made a mountain of water, fire, wood, earth and metal, which he gently set down on top of him to hold him fast. A magic spell pasted on the mountain kept him from breaking free.

There Sun Wu Kung had to lie for hundreds of years, until at last he changed his ways and was set free so that he could help the Monk of the Yangtze River bring the holy scriptures back from the West. He honored the Monk as his master, and from then on he was called the Wanderer. Guan Yin, who had freed him, gave the Monk a golden ring. Sun Wu Kung was persuaded to put it on his head, and at once it grew fast so that he could never take it off. Guan Yin also gave the Monk a magic saying that would tighten the ring if the ape ever disobeyed. Wilhelm’s compressed telling closes by saying that from then on he was polite and well-behaved.

About this story

“The Ape Sun Wu Kung” is chapter LXXIV, the final tale in Richard Wilhelm’s The Chinese Fairy Book, translated by Frederick H. Martens (New York: Frederick A. Stokes, 1921). It tells the Monkey King’s story from his birth out of a stone egg to his imprisonment under Buddha’s mountain, and ends briefly with his release to serve the Monk on the journey to the West.

Wilhelm’s note reads the tale as an allegory, like The Pilgrim’s Progress, in which the ape stands for the human heart: the stone ape is the stony heart of natural man, and the Buddhas, blessed spirits and gods stand for the ideals of Buddhism, Taoism and Confucianism. He says the name Wu Kung means “the magic awaking to nothingness,” that the ape recalls Hanumant, Rama’s companion, and that Laotzse’s diamond ring stands for the Tao. Sun Wu Kung can fight every outside power, Wilhelm adds, but Buddha conquers him without fighting at all, simply by being everywhere. The Monk of the Yangtze River, he notes, is Huan Dschuang. Those are the source editor’s interpretations, including the comparison with Hanumant; they are not proof of a single origin or the only way to read the tale. This adaptation retains the main sequence and avoids graphic battle detail. The older English text combines the names “Shakiamuni Amitofu”; this telling uses “Buddha” in that speech rather than presenting that combined form as a religious identification.

Read the original: The Chinese Fairy Book (Project Gutenberg)

Suggested for ages 9–12 with guidance for repeated battles, killing, attempted execution, imprisonment and a magic circlet used to enforce obedience. The immortality practices, peaches and pills belong to fantasy.

From protecting a home to demanding a throne

Sun Wu Kung’s first victories answer recognisable needs: a safe home behind the waterfall, freedom from death and rescue for captured companions. Yet he soon rejects the baboons’ suggestion that he buy weapons and takes an armoury by force instead. At the dragon palace, a polite request becomes a threat. Following that change makes the rebellion more than a series of entertaining fights: his ability to obtain something grows faster than his judgment about obtaining it.

Heaven also mishandles him. He works energetically in the stables before discovering how low the post is ranked, and the later grand title deliberately carries no responsibility. These scenes distinguish useful work, public status and real authority. His anger at humiliation is understandable without making the thefts or attacks harmless.

The contest in Buddha’s hand changes what winning means. Sun Wu Kung thinks distance proves independence, but his own signature reveals that he has never left the hand. At the close, however, an external circlet controls his behaviour. That leaves a useful question: is forced compliance the same as the self-command his teacher wanted him to learn?

Keep a record of requests and consequences

Choose the armoury, the dragon palace, the stables and the peach garden. For each, record what Sun Wu Kung wants, what he does well, who else is affected and what follows. Then compare the private midnight lesson with the public pine-tree display. In which scene does he seek understanding, and in which does he seek an audience?

Where the wider journey begins

The rebellion and mountain imprisonment belong to the larger story of Journey to the West. This page follows Wilhelm and Martens’s short ending, not the complete pilgrimage. Columbia University’s teaching resource explores the later relationship between Monkey, the monk Xuanzang and the other pilgrims, including their need for one another. That wider story gives the characters further difficulties after the moment at which this version stops.

Talk about it

• Why did Sun Wu Kung leave his happy home to search for everlasting life?
• Why did the master send him away, and what warning did he give?
• How did Buddha beat Sun Wu Kung without fighting him?
• What do you think the golden ring on Sun Wu Kung’s head means?

Related stories

• Yang Oerlang — the hero who matches Sun Wu Kung change for change
• The Monk of the Yangtze-kiang — the story of the Monk the ape later serves
• The Kindly Magician — another Wilhelm tale about the elixir of life

Also known as: Sun Wukong, The Monkey King