Chinese mythology is a rich and varied tradition with influences from Confucianism, Taoism,
and Buddhism.
Similar to other cultural mythologies, the tales were often considered actual history,
featuring villains and heroes, and some beings that defy categorization.
One such figure is the Taotie —the most enduring of the “Four Evils” of Chinese
myth.
Despite the consistent descriptions of sharp
teeth, strong claws, and a notoriously voracious appetite, this monster’s genesis remains
elusive.
Yet it also happens to share a name with one of the most famous motifs in ancient Chinese
art.
So how did the bulging eyes and gaping mouth of the taotie design on Bronze vessels turn
into the taotie monster that still intrigues us today?
Did I also mention it represents greed and gluttony?
[Monstrum intro.]
Long before its appearance in written history, the taotie existed in another documented form—ancient
Chinese art.
From the very start of the Bronze Age [c.3000 BCE] the taotie featured prominently
in the patterns, lines, and ornaments of bronze items—precursors to written storytelling.
These “beast-face” designs—later called the taotie motif—were symmetrical representations
of non-human creatures that famously dominated bronze art as early as the Shang Dynasty (c.
1600-1045 BC) and enduring into the Zhou dynasties (c.1045-256 BCE)—from roughly 1600 to 256
BCE.
Often these faces were rendered using a multiple perspective approach, combining the profile
views of other animals to form a central zoomorphic image or beast.
The style is defined by its two, round bulging eyes, a gaping mouth that often featured no
lower jaw, heavy eyebrows, ears, and sometimes horns.
Naturally, there are no written records of
what this bronze age iconography was called when they were created or what purpose the
designs served.
Archeologists, historians, and other scholars have pieced together plausible explanations
and generated likely narratives, but as with all ancient scholarship, this leaves ample
room for variations and disagreement.
In fact, many scholars argue that the taotie design originated far earlier, in Neolithic
times, citing images of the taotie beast-face across multiple artistic forms, including
jade objects.
Either way, the taotie beast-face is one of the earliest monstrous forms found in Chinese art.
So what might the taotie have represented?
Experts present several theories, many of which revolve around the ancient Chinese religious
tradition of ancestor worship.
Some argue that taotie designs depict the animal helpers of male and female shamans,
who aided communication between the living and the dead.
Other scholars assert that they are a depiction of masks that were worn to symbolize ancestor
spirits, and still others diverge a bit and suggest that the taotie may represent even
older beliefs in nature deities and spirits.
Of course there are some scholars who say
it’s just an ornamental pattern and not much else-- but where’s the fun in that?
This theory ignores the very history of how the bronze vessels came to be, who commissioned
them, the artisans who made them, and why.
Bronze Age artisans created these Chinese vessels under the employment of rich and powerful
patrons, often royalty and nobility.
Thus, the taotie, a frequent figure on such items, might also have served as a status
symbol meant to evoke the owner’s social class.
This interpretation holds up, especially when you consider that beginning in the Warring
States period, the word “taotie” came to mean “glutton.”
Further, many of these bronze vessels were
commissioned not for just any wealthy patrons, but for the Shang Dynasty kings themselves.
These kings —believed to have gods as their ancestors —maintained their power through
conquests in battle and successful harvests.
Sacrificial offerings to the kings’ ancestral deities and to the supreme deity, Di, were
collected from lesser nobles in the form of processions, spoils from hunts, and animal
and human sacrifice.
The bronze vessels used in such tributes—ones that were adorned with early images of taotie—were
of utmost importance, being fundamental to the rituals, and thus instrumental in politics
and even the overall economy.
In fact, bronze-making skills were honed almost
exclusively around ornamental pursuits, rather than functional efforts like weapons or agricultural
tools.
And so we can infer that the image of the taotie, with its fangs, horns, and large eyes,
was an integral component of early Chinese ceremonial and religious life.
Over time, taotie bronze vessels developed connections to food for humans too.
The feasts of ancient China were notorious.
In the Zhou Dynasty (c. 1045-256 BC) after the Bronze Age, it was estimated that for
some time 60% of the ruling kings’ servants were dedicated to food- related duties, even
as the majority of the population lived with chronic deprivation and even starvation.
The filling of a bronze vessel with sacrificial food or food for a feast associated the taotie
motif with abundance and underscored that having enough to share was a sign of good
manners and social inclusion.
The association of the word taotie with gluttony
did not emerge until after this period, in the last three periods of the Zhou dynasty,
when the outbreak of war meant feeding one’s soldiers became more of a priority than feasting,
and further strain was placed on food supplies.
The taotie motif on the bronze vessels may have then been seen as a sign of extravagance--something
to be avoided during wartime.
It’s no surprise, then, that the artistic rendering of the taotie face ended up inspiring
mythology in the form of the Taotie monster, one of the four “legendary monsters” or
malevolences of Chinese mythology.
In Chinese mythology, depictions of monsters
served an instructive or even protective purpose, and could be portrayed repelling evil or helping
humans avoid real dangers.
Creatures like the Taotie were considered real and mythological, capable of occupying
either or both states.
That said, the mythological version of Taotie, with its insatiable appetite and incredible
greed, definitely inspired fear as it offered instruction—I mean, they were said to be
man-devouring beasts after all.
Written narratives of the Taotie monster begin
to appear around the 4th century BCE, starting with the The Zuo Tradition or Zuo’s Commentary
(Zuo zhuan), which also happens to be the first complete narrative work in Chinese literature.
As the story goes, in ancient times two
of the ruling gods had eight virtuous sons each, and three other gods had one worthless
son each: Hundun (‘Chaos’), Qiongqi (‘Completely Devious’), and Taowu (‘Benighted Trouble’).
These in turn were the three evils—malevolences—whose maliciousness passed down through
generations until the time of Emperor Yao, a legendary ruler in Chinese mythology.
During Yao’s reign, a fourth evil son, “greedy for food and drink” was born to the ancient
Jinyun clan.
This one could never be satisfied!
He hoarded food, refusing to share with even those most desperate for charity.
He was called Taotie, and became the fourth Malevolence.
Luckily Emperor Yao’s minister expelled these Four Malevolences and their clans to
the four edges of the earth, once in each cardinal direction—tasking them with warding
off demons and bad spirits.
Like most myths, there are variations, including
one from Ming dynasty scholar Yang Shen, who wrote in this text [Sheng’an waiji]) that
taotie is one of the nine children of the dragon, who “liked to eat and drink” to
excess.
Different origin story, same defining traits.
In The Guideways through Mountains and Seas
or Classic of Mountains and Seas [Shanhaijing], a comprehensive text of Chinese mythology,
geography, nature, and bestiary, we find another taotie- like being.
In the text, there’s a creature called the
Paoxiao.
It has “a goat’s body with a human’s face,” eyes behind its armpits, tiger’s
teeth, and human hands.
It “makes a sound like a baby” and is a “man-eater.”
Quite the combination of features.
Composed between the 4th and 1st centuries BCE, all of the strange creatures depicted
in this comprehensive text were believed to actually exist, and it was us humans’ job
to live among them safely.
While the earliest taotie bronze images don’t seem to resemble this monster at all, Chinese
philosopher and scholar Guo Pu (276-324 C.E.), considered an expert on the text, insists
that this is the same Taotie mentioned in Zuo’s Commentary, leading many scholars
to agree.
Outside of Chinese relics, Yu-Gi-Oh, and a few video games, physical depictions of the
Taotie are largely limited in modern culture.
In fact, Taotie graced the silver screen for the first time in the 2016 film The Great
Wall.
Though it is portrayed as an alien reptilian species with dark green skin and sharp teeth,
the body markings are similar to the patterns seen in Ancient Bronze Chinese vessels, and
the name “Tao Tei” is similar enough.
We can roll our eyes at Matt Damon’s man
bun, but in many ways, this movie is another example of how traditional monster legends
can be adapted to fit modern narratives--and modern audiences.
I also see some historical legitimacy in the adaptation.
The green skin reminds me of the Neolithic jade figures with taotie-like decorative design.
And some of the grunt Tao Tei soldiers have human-like hands, “‘tiger’s teeth,”
annddd eyes near their shoulders, calling to mind the creature from Classic of Mountains
and Seas.
The queen of the species in the film even has horns—again paying homage to the early
taotie bronze motifs.
As for their motivation—pure Taotie.
The director of the film [Zhang Yimou] has even acknowledged ancient inspiration for
his gluttonous creatures.
And gluttony is a timeless theme.
The Taotie arose from visual motifs—not only oral or written stories, which not only
makes its original evolution unique, but demonstrates how the evolution of mythology and monsters
is fluid.
The Taotie is such a good example of how mythology is always changing.
Visuals can construct meaning, and in this example, the evolution from art to monster
by way of mythology can end with a timeless warning against over consumption.