Here I present A Mission to Heaven (1913), the first English version of Journey to the West translated by the Welsh Baptist missionary Timothy Richard (1845-1919). Modern translator Anthony C. Yu describes it and a slightly later translation as “no more than brief paraphrases and adaptations” (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. xiii). This is because Yu’s translation stretches over 2,000 pages, while Richard’s barely breaks 370 pages. Also, there are many mistranslations that will become apparent to those who have already read Yu’s version. For example, in chapter one when light from Sun Wukong’s eyes reach the celestial realm, A Mission to Heaven reads:
They saw the light burning brightly and ordered a telescope to be brought. (The telescope was invented by Galileo only in 1609 A.D., therefore the Chinese must have had some kind of telescope before we in Europe had it. — Tr.) It was taken to the South gate of heaven to be looked through from thence (Chiu & Richard, 1913, p. 3).
However, Yu’s more accurate version reads:
Upon seeing the glimmer of the golden beams, he [the Jade Emperor] ordered Thousand-Mile Eye and Fair-Wind Ear to open the South Heaven Gate and to look out (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 102).
As can be seen, Richard completely glossed over the two named deities, choosing instead to refer to both as a telescope.
It’s interesting to note the author of A Mission to Heaven/Journey to the West is listed as one Qiu Changchun, otherwise known as Qiu Chuji (1148-1227), founder of the Dragon Gate sect of Daoism. This may be confusing to some since the novel has long been touted as the work of Wu Cheng’en (1500-1582). However, the novel was anonymously published in 1592. Qiu’s disciple is known to have written a travel journal titled Journey to the West (西遊記), which detailed his master’s journey to meet Genghis Khan. Therefore, early commentators confused this historical travel journal with the fictional narrative, thereby claiming Qiu as the author as early as the 17th-century. Wu Cheng’en wasn’t associated with the novel until the 1920s, and the association is again based on a similarly named work published by Wu. Historians remain divided on the true author.
Here I present all of the woodblock prints from Mr. Li Zhuowu’s Literary Criticism of Journey to the West (Li Zhuowu Xiansheng piping Xiyouji, 李卓吾先生批評西遊記, late-16th-c. or early-17th-c.) by the Ming scholar Li Zhi (李贄, 1527-1602). It’s important to remember that the original novel was published in 1592, which means the images therein are some of the earliest depictions of the characters and episodes based on that freshly published version. The PDF linked below has nearly 200 prints, illustrating everything from Sun Wukong’s discovery of the Water Curtain Cave to the pilgrims’ final attainment of Buddhahood or Sainthood. Here is a sample.
Sun Wukong fighting the heavenly army (larger version). Enhanced slightly for clarity.
For my 50th post, I am excited to host PDF copies of two gorgeously illustrated Journey to the West children’s books produced in Japan during the middle part of the 20th-century.
Son Goku (孫悟空, 1939)
This work was illustrated by Shotaro Honda (本田庄太郎, 1893-1939), a Western style-trained artist closely associated with children’s literature for nearly 30 years. As the title suggests, the book focuses on the first 7 chapters of the novel, from the time of Monkey’s birth to his final imprisonment under Five Elements mountain. Literally every single panel is worthy of framing. The illustrations are bright and vibrant, seemingly jumping from the page. See below for an example.
Monkey in the underworld striking his name from the Book of Life and Death (larger version).
This three volume work was illustrated by Mizushima Nio (水島爾保布, 1884-1958). The first volume covers Monkey’s birth to the submission of Sandy, the second covers the Ginseng fruit tree to the battle with Guanyin’s goldfish, and the third covers the Rhino demon to the end of the novel. The dark on light line work reminds one of delicate paper cut artwork brought to life. Here’s a sample.
Now that I’ve written an entry debunking the idea that Sun Wukong’s staff anchored the Milky Way, I now want to write a piece about his greatest feat of strength in Journey to the West. This feat takes place in chapter 33 after Zhu Bajie has been captured by two demon brothers, Kings Goldhorn (Jinjiao Dawang, 金角大王) and Silverhorn (Yinjiao Dawang, 銀角大王). King Silverhorn, the younger of the two, then sets out to capture Tripitaka but is forced to resort to trickery when he learns the monk is protected by Sun Wukong. He transforms himself into an elderly Daoist laying by the roadside with a broken leg. The monk takes pity and forces Monkey to carry him on his back. However, the immortal sees through the disguise and plans to throw his charge off a cliff. But…
As the Great Sage was about to do this, the monster knew instantly of his plan. Knowing how to summon mountains, he resorted to the magic of Moving Mountains and Pouring Out Oceans. On Pilgrim’s [Monkey’s] back he made the magic sign with his fingers and recited a spell, sending the Sumeru Mountain into midair and causing it to descend directly on Pilgrim’s head. A little startled, the Great Sage bent his head to one side and the mountain landed on his left shoulder. Laughing, he said, “My child, what sort of press-body magic are you using to pin down old Monkey? This is all right, but a lopsided pole is rather difficult to carry.”
The demon said to himself, “One mountain can’t hold him down.” He recited a spell once more and summoned the Emei Mountain into the air. Pilgrim again turned his head and the mountain landed on his right shoulder. Look at him! Carrying two mountains, he began to give chase to his master with the speed of a meteor! The sight of him caused the old demon to perspire all over, muttering to himself, “He truly knows how to pole mountains!” Exerting his spirit even more, he recited another spell and sent up the Tai Mountain to press down on Pilgrim’s head. With this magic of the Tai Mountain Pressing the Head, the Great Sage was overpowered as his strength ebbed and his tendons turned numb; the weight was so great that the spirits of the Three Worms inside his body exploded and blood spurted from his seven apertures (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 2, pp. 108-109).
We see here Monkey is able to successfully carry the weight of both the Sumeru and Emei mountains, while running after his master “with the speed of a meteor”. That’s quite impressive, even if he is eventually crushed under the weight of a third mountain (fig. 1). Attention should be given to the particular mountains used in this episode. Let’s start with Sumeru since this is the first one mentioned.
Buswell and Lopez (2014) describe Mount Sumeru (Ximi shan, 須彌山; Miaogao shan, 妙高山) as:
The central axis of the universe in Buddhist cosmology; also known as Mount Meru. Mount Sumeru stands in the middle of the world as its axis and is eight leagues high … The slopes of Sumeru are the abode of demigods, and its upper reaches are the heavens of the four heavenly kings. At the summit of the mountain is the heaven of the thirty-three, ruled by the king of the gods, Sakra. Above Mount Sumeru are located the remaining heavens of the sensuous realm [fig. 2] (p. 896).
[Note: The portion that has been struck through appears to be a typo. Please see the 06-19-22 update below.]
A poem in chapter four of Journey to the West describes what Monkey sees when he first comes to live in heaven as the Keeper of the Heavenly Horses. A portion reads, “Thirty-three mansions were found up here, / With names like the Scattered Cloud, the Vaisravana, the Pancavidya, the Suyama, the Nirmanarati…” (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 146). Translator Anthony C. Yu notes, “The verse here is alluding to the Indra heaven with it’s thirty-three summits (trāyastriṃśa) [fig. 2] and the six heavens of desire (devalokas)”, which are located atop Mount Sumeru (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 510, n. 1). Therefore, the heaven described in the novel is located on the same cosmic mountain as that from Hindo-Buddhist cosmology, meaning Monkey successfully supports the axis of the universe on one shoulder.
Fig. 2 – Mount Sumeru indicated in gold. The location of the aforementioned 33 heavens/mansions are indicated in pink. A great cosmic ocean is indicated in blue (larger version). Adapted from Buswell & Lopez, 2014, p. xxxii.
Mount Emei (Emei shan, 峨嵋山; 峨眉山) is one of the four sacred Buddhist mountains of China. It is considered extremely important as Chinese tradition believes, upon entering the Middle Kingdom from India, Buddhism spread from this very mountain during the eastern Han Dynasty and proliferated throughout China. The mountain is 10,167 feet high, making it over 3,000 feet taller than the other sacred Buddhist mountains. This place is believed to be the heavenly abode of the Bodhisattva Samantabhadra, making him the patron saint of Emei (Buswell & Lopez, 2014, pp. 282-283).
I want to reiterate the fact that both Sumeru and Emei are important to Buddhism. Not only does Monkey support the very axis of the Buddhist universe on one shoulder, he supports on the other the very mountain from which the religion is believed to have spread into China. I’m not sure if this was the author-compiler’s original intent, but it seems as if this feat of strength could be symbolism for Monkey literally “supporting” Buddhism by protecting his master on their journey to India. After all, the historical Xuanzang (玄奘, 602-664) on whom Tripitaka is based is considered to be one of, if not the, most prolific translators of Buddhist texts in the history of Chinese Buddhism (Buswell & Lopez, 2014, pp. 1015-1016).
I turn now to Mount Tai (Taishan, 泰山), the mountain that ultimately overwhelms Sun Wukong’s supernatural strength. It is one of the five sacred mountains of China, which differ from the four Buddhist counterparts mentioned above. Mount Tai was the epicenter of a state cult in Ancient China, one in which Sage-Kings and emperors of millennia past traveled there to perform sacrifices to heaven, thereby gaining the right to rule or attaining eternal life. An entry in the Classic of History (Shujing, 書經, 4th-c. BCE) suggests the practice goes all the way back to the Sage-King Shun (3rd millennia BCE) (Poo, 2011, pp. 20-21). Due to its great cultural and historical significance, the mountain came to be recognized as an adamantine monolith, the very name of which was used as a metaphor for something unfathomably heavy, whether it be a physical measure of weight or philosophical importance. For example, Warring States philosopher Mozi took part in a debate over the plausibility of his school of thought taking center stage in Chinese society. His opponent claimed, “As we see it, one can no more put it into practice than one can pick up Mount Tai and leap over a river with it!” Mozi highlighted the irrelevant nature of the metaphor by replying, “As for picking up Mount Tai and leaping over rivers with it, no one from ancient times to the present, from the beginning of humankind to now, has ever succeeded in doing that!” (Watson, 1999a, p. 71). Another example comes from the Han historian Sima Qian who wrote, “A man has only one death. That death may be as weighty as Mount Tai, or it may be as light as a goose feather. It all depends upon the way he uses it” (pp. 371-372). Therefore, the mountain represented the heaviest thing imaginable in Chinese culture. It’s no wonder then that not even Monkey could withstand its weight.
The idea of Mount Tai symbolizing a heavy object influenced the name of a 17th-century technique related to the development of Taiji boxing called “Crush with the Weight of Mount Tai” (Taishan yading, 泰山壓頂) (fig. 3), which involved climbing onto an opponent (Henning, 2009, pp. 78 and 82). Incidentally, the name of this technique is also a common chinese saying referring to someone being under a lot of stress (Gao, Wang, & Weightman, 2012, p. 191).
Fig. 3 – “Crush with the Weight of Mount Tai”. From Henning, 2009, p. 78 (larger version).
I find it interesting that, after easily bearing the weight of two Buddhist mountains, Mount Tai is the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. Mount Tai represents native Chinese history and culture, while Sumeru and Emei represent Buddhism, a non-native religion from India. Therefore, this episode could be read as a struggle between the domestic and foreign aspects of Chinese culture. Considering the monsters are later revealed to be Daoist attendants of Laozi sent by heaven to test the resolve of the pilgrims (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 2, p. 145), it’s possible the conflict is between Daoism, a native Chinese religion, and Buddhism.
This is obviously not a perfect theory, though. For instance, Laozi reveals that it was actually the Bodhisattva Guanyin who requested the lads be sent (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 2, p. 145). Does this explain why a Daoist spirit would summon two Buddhist mountains to crush Monkey? I’m interested in what others think.
Fig. 4 – A modern painting of Hanuman lifting the mountain (larger version). All credit goes to the original artist S. Keerthi.
Lastly, I would like to note Sun Wukong’s feat of lifting mountains recalls an episode in the Ramayana (4th-c. BCE) in which the monkey god Hanuman carries back a mountain laden with magical herbs to heal the wounds of his master‘s brother Lakshmana (fig. 4). Hanuman is the living embodiment of strength (shakti) in India (see for example Alter, 1992). Monkey is believed to be loosely based on Hanuman (Walker, 1998), so there could be a connection between both instances of mountain lifting.
Monkey’s feat appears to be based on a native Chinese story and not the Ramayana. This is first hinted at in chapter 33 when the demon exclaims the Great Sage “truly knows how to pole mountains [dan shan, 擔山]!” A poem spoken by Sun Wukong in chapter 67 confirms the connection:
Purvavideha was my ancestral home, I did cultivation on Mount Flower-Fruit. I bowed to the Patriarch of Heart and Mind and perfected with him the martial arts. I can tame dragons, stirring up the seas; I can tote mountains to chase down the sun. In binding fiends and demon’s I’m the best; Moving stars and planets, I scare ghosts and gods. Stealing from heav’n and Earth gives me great fame, Of boundless change, Handsome Stone Monkey’s my name (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 3, p. 243).
Fig. 5 – Erlang poling the mountains (larger version). Artist unknown.
“I can tote mountains to chase down the sun” (shan hui dan shan gan ri tou, 善會擔山趕日頭) is a clear allusion to the ancient tale “Erlang carries mountains to chase the suns” (Erlang dan shan gan taiyang, 二郎擔山趕太陽). The tale describes how the ancient earth was plagued by many suns that scorched the land, making it impossible for the people to grow anything. Vowing to end this plight, the hero Erlang shoulders two mountains hanging from a tree and, with the aid of magical shoes, chases down each sun [fig. 5], using the weight from both landmasses to overwhelm and crush the superfluous celestial bodies (担山赶太阳, n.d). Apart from the feat of lifting two mountains, Erlang’s fleet pursuit of each sun (gan taiyang, 趕太陽) foreshadows Monkey “giv[ing] chase to his master with the speed of a meteor” (fei xing lai gan shifu, 飛星來趕師父).
It’s interesting to note that “Erlang Carrying Mountains” (Erlang dan shan, 二郎擔山) is a common Shaolin stance, and a staff variant even appears in the Collection of Military Works(Wubei zhi, 武備志, c. 1621), a Ming treatise on military armaments and fighting techniques (fig. 6). The staff obviously recalls the pole (or in this case tree) that Erlang uses to bear the weight of the mountains.
One thing I forgot to stress was the speed with which Sun Wukong is able to run while carrying the mountains. The novel reads: “Carrying two mountains, he began to give chase to his master with the speed of a meteor!” (Kan ta tiaozhe liang zuo dashan, feixing lai gan shifu, 看他挑著兩座大山，飛星來趕師父) (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 2, p. 109). According to this page, meteors (feixing, 飛星; lit: “flying stars”) enter the atmosphere between 25,000 to 160,000 mph (40,226 to 257,451 km/h). So Monkey would be traveling at mach 32 to 208(!) while carrying the weight of the aforesaid mountains. Pretty impressive, no? This puts the Flash to shame (fig. 7). I wonder if Superman has ever carried something this heavy while running.
Fig. 7 – DC Comics’ the Flash running at super speed (larger version). Found randomly online.
I recently archived the Precious Scroll of Erlang (Erlang baojuan, 二郎寳卷, 1562), a baojuan that venerates and records the various deeds of the immortal demi-god. The work states that the Monkey King was “pressed under the base of Mt. Tai” (yazai, taishan gen, 壓在太山根) (PDF page 46) (fig. 8). This might also explain why Mt. Tai overwhelms Monkey in chapter 33.
My friend Irwen Wong of the Journey to the West Library blog was kind enough to provide me time-stamped links to the aforementioned episode in the various JTTW TV shows. I will list them in order of year.
Journey to the West (1986) – live action
Even though this is my favorite show, it did a poor job of representing the mountain. It’s little more than a boulder.
Journey to the West: Legends of the Monkey King (2000) – animated
This cartoon just has monkey trapped by a single mountain.
New Journey to the West (2010) – live action
This version uses all three mountains and really steps up the special effects. This is no surprise given the differences in time and budget between it and the 1986 edition.
Journey to the West (2011) – live action
This is my favorite depiction of the episode. The special effects are top notch. I will say the elongated arms on the Taoist are a bit odd. But Irwen suggests it’s likely a visual representation of “poling” mountains (as discussed above).
Each of these iterations have their own charm. But all of them depart from the novel by showing Monkey struggling to carry the first two mountains. I remind the reader that the literary character runs “with the speed of a meteor!” while carrying the load (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 2, p. 108). I guess that would have been hard to depict, even with modern computer graphics.
Sun Wukong’s feats are on the minds of many people as the Death Battle TV show is set to feature a fight between Hercules and our monkey hero. I’ve seen a few blogs where people try to calculate the size of Mount Sumeru. I cited a source above stating that the landmass is “eight leagues high” (Buswell & Lopez, 2014, p. 896), but this appears to be a typo, for other sources multiply this estimate by thousands of times. For example, Sadakata (1997) explains that, according to the Abhidharmakośa (Ch: Api damo jushe lun, 阿毗達磨俱舍論, 4th to 5th-century): “Sumeru has a height of 160,000 yojanas, of which half is under water. The half above water is therefore 80,000 yojanas high” (pp. 26-27). The yojana (youxun, 由旬) is approximately eight miles (12.87 km), or the distance that one can travel in one day on a cart driven by a team of oxen. But estimates also range between four and ten miles (6.43 and 16.09 km) (Buswell & Lopez, 2014, p. 1036). If eight miles is used, then Mt. Sumeru would an astounding 1,280,000 miles (2,059,960.32 km) tall.
I should note that Journey to the West does not depict Monkey’s strength consistently throughout the novel. As mentioned, he can carry two mountains (one of them the cosmic axis) on his shoulders while running with meteoric speeds. But apart from Mt. Tai, the novel describes another object that he can’t pick up. Chapter 42 reads:
[T]he Bodhisattva grew terribly angry, crying, “How dare that brazen fiend [Red Boy] change into my image!” As she cried, she flung into the ocean the immaculate porcelain vase set with precious pearls which she held in her hand …
[After her turtle emerges from the sea with the vase on its back, she orders Monkey to retrieve it for her.] Pilgrim went forward at once to pick up the vase. Alas! He could not do so at all! It was as if a dragonfly attempted to rock a stone pillar-how could he even budge it? Pilgrim approached the Bodhisattva and knelt down, saying, “Your disciple cannot pick it up.” “Monkey head,” said the Bodhisattva, “all you know is how to brag! If you can’t even pick up a small vase, how can you subdue fiends and capture monsters?” “To tell you the truth, Bodhisattva,” said Pilgrim, “I might be able to do it ordinarily, but today I just can’t pick it up. I must have been hurt by the monster-spirit, and my strength has weakened.” The Bodhisattva said, “Normally it’s an empty vase, but once it has been thrown into the ocean, it has traveled through the three rivers, the five lakes, the eight seas, and the four big rivers. It has, in fact, gathered together from all the aquatic bodies in the world an oceanful of water, which is now stored inside it. You may be strong, but you don’t possess the strength of upholding the ocean. That’s why you cannot pick up the vase…” (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 2, pp. 243 and 244).
But there may be an underlying religious reason for this. For instance, while Sun can’t lift it, the goddess does so easily, as does her holy sea turtle (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 2, p. 243). Most importantly, the story suggests that Guanyin will send her holy disciple, the “Dragon Girl Skilled in Wealth” (Shancai longnu, 善財龍女), to carry it for him (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 2, p. 244). So, this could mean that Monkey, at this point in the story, lacks the Buddhist spiritual attainments necessary to lift the vase. “Dharma Power” (fali, 法力) is considered the penultimate power in the novel’s universal hierarchy, even outclassing that wielded by high Daoist deities.
Alter, J. S., & OUP. (1992). The Wrestler’s Body: Identity and Ideology in North India. Berkeley, Calif: University of California Press.
Buswell, R. E., & Lopez, D. S. (2014). The Princeton Dictionary of Buddhism. N: Princeton University Press.
Gao, W., Wang, A., & Weightman, F. (2012). A Handbook of Chinese Cultural Terms. Bloomington, Indiana: Trafford On Demand Pub.
Henning, S. (2009). Taijiquan: Symbol of Traditional Chinese Martial Arts Culture. Journal of Chinese Martial Arts, 1, pp. 76-83.
Poo, M. (2011). Preparation for the Afterlife in Ancient China. In Olberding, A., & Ivanhoe, P. J. (Ed.), Mortality in Traditional Chinese Thought (pp. 13-36). Albany: State University of New York Press.
Sadakata, A. (1997). Buddhist Cosmology: Philosophy and Origins. Japan: Kosei Publishing Company.
Walker, H.S. (1998). Indigenous or Foreign? A Look at the Origins of Monkey Hero Sun Wukong. Sino-Platonic Papers, 81, 1-117.
Watson, B. (1999a). Mozi: Utility, Uniformity, and Universal Love. In De Bary, W. T. & Bloom, I. (Eds.), Sources of Chinese Tradition: Volume 1: From Earliest Times to 1600 (pp. 64-76). New York: Columbia University Press.
Watson, B. (1999b). The Great Han Historians. In De Bary, W. T. & Bloom, I. (Eds.), Sources of Chinese Tradition: Volume 1: From Earliest Times to 1600 (pp. 367-374). New York: Columbia University Press.
Wu, C., & Yu, A. C. (2012). The Journey to the West (Vol. 1-4). Chicago, Illinois: University of Chicago Press.
A common misconception on the internet is that Sun Wukong’s magic staff was originally used to hold down the Milky Way (fig. 1), suggesting that, since the immortal can effortlessly wield the weapon, he is strong enough to lift the weight of a galaxy. This misconception usually pops up in forums and battle wikis during debates on the lifting strength of particular mythological or fictional characters. It ultimately stems from a mistranslation in the widely read W.J.F. Jenner edition.  The passage in question reads:
The piece of miraculous iron that anchors the Milky Way in place has been shining with a lovely rosy glow for the last few days, and creating a most auspicious atmosphere (Wu and Jenner, 2001, p. 55) (emphasis mine).
However, the original Chinese reads:
我們這海藏中，那一塊天河定底的神珍鐵，這幾日霞光艷艷，瑞氣騰騰… (Wu, 2001, p. 32) (emphasis mine).
The problem lies in the partial mistranslation of the characters 天河定底 (Tiānhé dìng dǐ). Tianhe is the Chinese name for the Milky Way, while ding di means to “fix or set the depth or base of”. This refers to setting a fixed measurement for the “Heavenly River” and has nothing to do with anchoring or weighing down anything.
Fig. 1 – A panorama of the top arch of the Milky Way galaxy as seen from Chile (larger version).
The far more accurate Anthony C. Yu translations reads:
Inside our ocean treasury is that piece of rare magic iron by which the depth of the Heavenly River is fixed. These past few days the iron has been glowing with a strange and lovely light (Wu and Yu, 2012, p. 135) (emphasis mine).
Most importantly, the novel is quite clear on how much the staff weighs:
Immediately adjacent to one of the hoops was the inscription, “The Compliant Golden-Hooped Rod. Weight: 17,560 pounds” (Wu and Yu, 2012, p. 135). 
I have written an article that discusses the magic powers of the staff. These include the ability to shrink and grow, control the ocean, astral project and entangle with Monkey’s spirit, multiply endlessly, pick locks, and transform into various objects. It also has sentience to a certain degree.
Here is my theory on why Sun Wukong’s staff weighs 13,500 catties (一萬三千五百斤, 17,560 lbs./7,965 kg). I believe the number is an embellishment on the 300 to 500 catty (三五百斤) stone block lifted by the bandit Wu Song in the Water Margin (c. 1400).
1) This is the first edition I read as a youngster.
2) Anthony Yu’s (Wu & Yu, 2012) original translation says “thirteen thousand five hundred pounds” (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 135). However, the Chinese version uses jin (斤), known in English as “catty“. The catty and pound are two different measures of weight, the former being heavier than the latter. Therefore, the English text has been altered to show this. The catty during the Ming Dynasty when the novel was compiled equaled 590 grams (Elvin, 2004, p. 491 n. 133), so 13,500 catties would equal 17,560 lbs.
Elvin, M. (2004). The Retreat of the Elephants: An Environmental History of China. New Haven (Conn.): Yale university press.
Wu, C. & Jenner, W. J. F. (2001). Journey to the West: Volume 1. [S.l.]: Foreign Languages Press.
Wu, C. (2001). Journey to the West: Volume 1. Beijing: Renmin wenxue chubanshe.
Wu, C., & Yu, A. C. (2012). The Journey to the West: Volume 1. Chicago, Illinois: University of Chicago Press.