Loading ...
Sorry, an error occurred while loading the content.

Creation of Heaven and Earth by Pangu

Expand Messages
  • ghwelker3@comcast.net
    http://Traditions.cultural-china.com/en/210Traditions268.html Creation of Heaven and Earth by Pangu is the creative myth that was spread in the Orient in
    Message 1 of 396 , Nov 1, 2011
    • 0 Attachment


      Creation of Heaven and Earth by Pangu is the creative myth that was spread in the Orient in ancient times.

      Story has it that the heaven and earth were integrated into one body that resembles an egg, with Pangu slept inside. He slept for about 18000 years and then awoke. He found that he was in a vast of dark; therefore, he expanded his huge hands and cut into the darkness. After an explosion, the heaven and earth started to split. He feared that the heaven and earth may come together again, so he held the heaven with his hands and trod his legs on the land. His body grew three meters every day. Consequently, the distance between the heaven and earth became three meters longer every day. Time flies! Another 18000 years passed and now, the heaven became far away from the earth and the earth was now very thick. At the same time, Pangu also grew to a huge man. During this period, the heaven continued ascending and expanding while the earth sinking and thickening until the distance between them was as far as 90,000 kilometers which had reached the extreme. That was the condition of the universe in our eyes at present. Pangu gradually weakened after he separated the heaven and the earth. After he died, his body turned into all the things in the universe. His left eye became the sun and his right eye, the moon. The protruded parts in his body turn out to be high mountains and his blood became rivers. His muscle became the soil field, and his hair and beard became the stars on the sky and grasses on the ground. His teeth and bones turned out to be iron and huge stone while the essence in his body became pearls and precious jade. His breath became the wind and cloud, his shout became the thunderbolt, and the sweat turned out to be the rain. A lot of insects on his body were blown by wind into living human beings. This story was first appeared in Sanwu Liji written by Xu Zheng in the Three Kingdoms Period.

      The myth of Pangu was pervasively spread among the southern ethnic minorities long long ago. Both of the Miao and Yao people took Pangu as their ancestors. So far, the Zhuang people are still singing "Song about Pangu Creating the Heaven and Earth". The song goes like this: 

      Pangu split the heaven and the earth, and created the sun, moon and other stars. It is thanks to Pangu that human beings can get brightness... From historical record and oral tales, we can detect the evolution trace of the myth of Pangu in the process of spreading. Pangu split the heaven and the earth, seeded all the things in the universe and turned into the heaven and the earth. He is not only the god that created the world but also the hero who broke darkness and sought brightness. Pangu will forever remain living in the minds of generations after generations of the Chinese people.

        Fuxi and Nvwa 伏羲和女娲
        Fuxi and Nvwa...
        Fuxi and Nvwa are the human ancestors in Chinese ancient mythic legends.
        Zheng He's Voyages to the Western Sea
        Zheng He's...
        Zheng He's voyages to the Western Sea are great diplomatic undertakings in the history of China.
        Anyang Yin Ruins - the First Recorded Relics as the Capital City in Shang Dynasty
        Anyang Yin Ruins...
        Located in North-west Xiaotun Village, Anyang City, Henan Province, Yin Ruins is the first...
        Hemudu Culture
        Hemudu Culture
        Hemudu Relics, a neolithic cultural site located in the lower reaches of Yangtze Valley, got its...
        Primitives of the Paleolithic Age
        Primitives of the...
        Originated from about 2.5 million years till 10,000 years ago, the Paleolithic Age was a material...
        King Pan Festival
        King Pan Festival
        As a grand festival for worshiping Pan Hu, a remote ancestor of the Yao ethnic minority, King Pan...

        Chang Er Flying to the Moon

        Chang Er Flying to the Moon
        The legend Chang Er Flying to the Moon is a beautiful fable of ancient China. Chang Er was the...

        Related Books

      • A Reader on China (Cultural China)

        Intended for general interest readers, this one-volume book provides a basic, introductory guide...
      • Selected Short Stories from China...

        21 Chinese short stories written in the 1990s were selected - a tiny portion of the literary...
      • Snapshots of a New China: Culture...

        There are plenty of wonderful books about China that focus on tangible cultural artifacts. But...

    • ghwelker
      Message 396 of 396 , Sep 24, 2014


      A visitor views Wampum belts, fans and other diplomatic tools of the treaty process at the Smithsonian National Museum of the American Indian’s “Nation to Nation: Treaties Between the United States and American Indian Nations.” (Paul Morigi/AP)

       September 23 at 9:40 PM  

      When the National Museum of the American Indian opened a decade ago this month, the tone, design and scholarship of the exhibitions were unlike anything else in Washington. Disgusted with ham-handed and often condescending treatment from traditional anthropologists, and determined to be the author of their own self-representation in the nation’s capital, the leaders of the NMAI allowed individual tribes extraordinary input and power over what viewers saw in the museum’s galleries. The results were controversial: It was, in many ways, the ultimate postmodern museum experience, with no central narrative, no omniscient voice and no absolute appeals to the voice of science and history. But from the visitor’s point of view, it was also bewildering.

      With a new exhibition on the history of treaties between the U.S. government and native communities, the Smithsonian franchise has done a museological volte-face. “Nation to Nation,” which opened Sunday, falls squarely in the mainstream of exhibition design: a chronological walk through history, supported by documents, artifacts, photographs and other images, leading to a clear and compelling argument. The history of treaties, like the history of native people on this continent, is a troubled one, full of sincere promise and wretched betrayal; but treaties are ongoing, and just as there are still dynamic native communities all across the country, there are still treaties in force that give them autonomy, dignity and hope for the future.

      Judged side by side with other Smithsonian exhibitions, this first foray into a more mainstream presentation is successful. There are small gaffes, but these are easily remedied. In the future, the designers need to attend more diligently to the control and leakage of sound; it can be difficult to read wall texts over the pervasive noise of the videos. They might also reconsider the placement of specially designed lectern-like introductory stations, which weren’t the obvious first stop for visitors entering new rooms or thematic groupings. In a few cases, one also wished for a bit more identifying material: The 1794 Treaty of Canandaigua, an attempt to secure peace with the Iroquois (or the Haudenosaunee, as they are referred to in the exhibition), includes beautiful photographs of a northern lake, but a map would have helped locate it (Canandaigua is on the northern end of one of the Finger Lakes in upstate New York).

      But those are things to be tweaked, not greatly regretted. Otherwise, the presentation is clear, comprehensive and full of the intriguing and often maddening details of history. The exhibition is divided into three large chapters: the optimism and apparent goodwill of the early treaties, made by the young republic to secure peace, security and coexistence; the “bad paper” treaties of the 19th century, which were often little more than formalized theft; and the 20th-century legacy, in which native political and cultural leaders used existing treaties to negotiate and secure greater autonomy and independence from federal and state control.

      Throughout this larger structure is a consistent use of contrasting “viewpoint” panels, with the Native understanding juxtaposed with the official U.S. or prevailing non-Native view. It’s an effective strategy that allows both for dispassionate presentation and considerable historical complexity. Before learning about individual treaties, visitors are introduced to two radically different worldviews, including leadership styles, different understandings of land and ownership, preferences for spoken or written language and attitudes to diplomacy and promises. Native Americans were deeply connected to land and had a broad sense of territorial possession, but this wasn’t formalized in European terms on paper, or through deeds; oral agreements weren’t just a lesser or less formal version of the written contract, but more substantial, more binding than the sealed promise; and leadership was highly devolved and decentralized, not concentrated in a single leader or his delegated representative.

      It wasn’t, of course, just a matter of cultural difference or miscommunication that led to the 19th-century eviction, dispossession and genocide of native people. It was greed and the deeply embedded American conviction, abetted by the Christian religion and enforced with military might, that the white man had a superior right to the land because he was more civilized and could make better use of it.

      After a room detailing the earliest treaties, enacted in the naive belief that perhaps two very different modes of life could be made compatible, a video helps visitors segue to the much darker chapters of Manifest Destiny, the villainous Andrew Jackson (author of so much misery), the recurring tension between the states (always greedy for more land) and the federal government (technically and ethically obliged to honor existing treaties). Negotiation gave way to intimidation, bribery, trickery and lying. Treaties were merely a fig leaf: “They wanted all of it, they wanted everything,” says Suzan Shown Harjo, guest curator of the exhibition.

      And so we learn that the Cherokee Trail of Tears (another Andrew Jackson production) wasn’t exceptional; the 1838 Potawatomi Trail of Death, one of the more egregious and effective campaigns of “removal” that defined 19th-century relations between the U.S. and the Native nations, was just as criminal. Beginning in 1816, the Potawatomi of the Great Lakes region made dozens of new agreements, ceding large amounts of land in exchange for smaller reserves; but by the 1830s they were simply being forced out wholesale, at the point of muskets by armed militias.

      The early decades of the 20th century weren’t much better. A haunting 1900 photograph, reproduced at large scale, shows Native school girls praying beside their beds at an Indian school in Phoenix. For those who had survived the removals, the forced migrations beset by disease and death, the re-concentration on often desperately inhospitable new lands, and the further encroachment of efforts to privatize reservation lands, there was yet more: religious and cultural extermination. Greed and expansionism were not enough; God’s gentle people wanted souls, minds and memory, too. And by the middle decades of the last century came another appalling chapter: “Termination,” an effort by Congress to eliminate the independent status of Native tribes altogether.

      Reaction against termination, the curators argue, was the turning point, the beginning of a newly sophisticated Native awareness and resistance, and an embrace of historical treaties as a bulwark against the decimation of culture. By insisting on the treaties’ ongoing validity, they also laid the logical groundwork for a new era of economic self-
      sufficiency, and the legalized gaming that has been so prevalent and lucrative. The inclusion, among the artifacts, of poker chips and playing cards from the Agua Caliente casino in Southern California feels a bit like a joke; but it’s a joke rich with sweet revenge, as greed and stupidity become something to harvest rather than fear.

      The “feel-good” flavor of the last chapter, the celebration of resurgent Native communities after so much darkness, is a holdover, perhaps, from the earlier presentation, which stressed the ongoing presence of Indians in American life. But there is something celebratory about the tone, and the celebratory is always suspect in a museum; it’s too easy to convert history into cheap narrative uplift.

      Perhaps it’s justified in this case, though it might have been tempered by more directly posing the obvious hard questions that non-Native visitors should contemplate: Has the long history of wrongs been expiated? How do those of us who benefited from the genocide make sense of our own claims to land and property?

      For people who have followed the evolution of the National Museum of the American Indian, there will also be a few moments of dissonance. Although the exhibition incorporates multiple viewpoints and understandings, the fundamental perspective is now much closer to the master-narrative style of Western intellectual discourse; the spoken word gives way to text-dense written panels. With the introduction of a standard museological approach into the NMAI, one begins to miss the old multivalent style of the exhibitions a decade ago.

      But museums need audiences, and the NMAI was struggling to find them. So of course it had to move toward a more traditional exhibition style, toward a more Western discourse, toward a more non-Native centralization and control over the message. It couldn’t really have happened any other way. Which is the same, frustrating and deeply unsatisfying answer some of us give to the foundational historic tragedy of the United States.

      Nation to Nation: Treaties Between the United Statesand American Indian Nations

      Through fall 2018. National Museum of the American Indian, Fourth Street and Independence Avenue SW. Call 202-633-1000 or visit nmai.si.edu. Free.

      Philip Kennicott is the Pulitzer Prize-winning Art and Architecture Critic of The Washington Post. He has been on staff at the Post since 1999, first as Classical Music Critic, then as Culture Critic.
    Your message has been successfully submitted and would be delivered to recipients shortly.