In the early 1980s a Japanese TV serial, Monkey, became a surprise cult hit on New Zealand Teleision. It was raucous, oddly dubbed and was broadcast at just the moment to find an audience among students emerging from a weekend hangover. So this story of Monkey (“the punkiest monkey that ever popped” according to the theme tune) and a band of oddly matched pilgrims journeying to the west of China found a local niche audience.
The hero of the 1980s TV serial, Monkey. Photo: Supplied
It was one of hundreds of adaptations over the centuries of the Chinese classic, Journey to the West, attributed to Wu Cheng’en (circa 1580) and one of China’s literary classics. A new translation by Julia Lovell, Monkey King: Journey to the West, keeps it irreverent, pacy and short.
The book falls into three sections.
The first follows the irrepressible Monkey as he seeks immortal sagehood and acquires the tricks that will later serve him on the journey; he can fly by “cloud somersaulting”, he perfects the art of subterfuge and gets a bludgeon which can grow to the sky or shrink to the size of a needle. Unfortunately, he falls foul of Heaven’s Jade Emperor by snacking his way through immortal peaches. He is imprisoned under a mountain.
The second section, probably the least interesting because Monkey is missing in his mountain prison, brings together the story of the other disciples, all fallen spirits. It’s like a Ming dynasty “putting the band together”. There’s Pigsy, who can’t control his appetites, mainly gluttony and lust, but can fly using his pig ears; Sandy, a sand monster; and a white dragon horse.
A new translation of the Chinese classic Journey to the West Photo: Supplied
Finally, the pilgrims are given their mission; they can redeem themselves if they accompany a human monk Tripitaka to bring back Buddhist scriptures to China.
And so unfolds the tale as the band are beset by demons who want to feast on Tripitaka’s pious flesh, femme fatales who want to seduce him, a family of demons who have it in for Monkey, flaming mountains, demonic scorpions, mad Taoist rulers, dragons in every river, a country of women who use magic to put the males into labour and that’s about the half of it. Monkey points out that every damned high mountain seems to house a demon. There had been a historic journey to the west, when a seventh century Buddhist monk Xuanzang traveled to India in search of Buddhist scriptures, but nine centuries later the kernel had been transformed into a phantasmagoric extravaganza.
The novel has the structure of a serial; each chapter a new adventure and each one posing the question; how will our heroes get out of this one?
Most of the characterisation is done through banter; Tripitaka is cowardly; Pigsy, boastful; Sandy, loyal. And Monkey steals the show. He is irreverent, shrewd, can’t go past a demon without wanting to fight it and, ultimately, the real leader, though he learns compassion.
Lovell keeps the wise-cracking crackling and modern. Much of the novel is taken up with snappy dialogue. Lovell likens the novel to an action-packed sit-com.
Here, for example, is Tripitaka, the virgin monk, having to marry a love-lorn queen.
"What should I do?" Tripitaka asked Monkey.
"Perhaps you'd best stay here," Monkey replied. "these sorts of opportunities don't grow on trees."
"Our ruler only wants you," the (courtier) told Tripitaka. "after the wedding banquet, your disciples can carry on to the west."
As soon as the women had left, Tripitaka grabbed Monkey. "What are you playing at? How can you marry me off while you three go to the west? I'd rather die."
"I know, I know," Monkey soothed him. "But given we're in a tight corner, we have to fight plots with plots."
The band of four pilgrims from the TV serial, Monkey. Photo: Supplied
One of the novel’s subversive themes is how the pilgrims encounter pervasive bureaucracy and stifling hierarchies everywhere. Lovell, a professor of Modern Chinese History and Literature at the University of London, delights in emphasising it. Heaven, Earth and Hell are all bureaucracies of some kind.
In Heaven, Monkey chafes at the rules and at being given the bottom sinecure (“Imperial Groom” or stable boy). Earth has its imperial China with jostling officials and an Emperor. Even Hell is hierarchical - and inefficient. Even as the pilgrims fulfill their quest they discover Buddha’s helpers are corrupt, extorting gifts to get the correct sutras. No wonder Chairman Mao loved Monkey, the rebel outsider wreaking havoc on authority wherever he could.
Lovell keeps the tale short, much shorter. The original runs to 100 chapters, this version 36. She estimates this translation is around one quarter of the original; gone are large wadges of adventures in exchange for keeping the pilgrimage moving. If she was in charge of Peter Jackson’s The Hobbit it would be one movie, not three.
Lovell’s translation works because she has emphasised the things a new reader can enjoy, while not labouring it. Gone are Tripitaka’s 81 calamities; in their place enough adventures to make it feel like a multitude. She has emphasised the humour, the banter and the scrapes. What’s left is an accessible age-old yarn of a quest, mismatched friends and eventual triumph.
Monkey King: Journey to the West
Wu Cheng'en
Translated by Julia Lovell
Penguin
