The Penguin Book of Dragons

by The Penguin Book of Dragons (retail) (epub)

  THE DRAGON OF DROUGHT1

  Composed in South Asia between 1500 and 1200 BCE, the ancient collection of Sanskrit hymns known the Rig Veda preserves the oldest account of a dragon battle in human history. Many of these hymns sing the praises of the storm deity Indra. His greatest achievement was the slaying of the dragon Vrtra, a monstrous manifestation of drought who held the waters of the world captive in a mountain. Fueled by a ritual drink called soma and wielding a thunderbolt, Indra brought ruin upon “the first-born of dragons” and released the rivers for the benefit of humankind. Vrtra’s physical form is difficult to decipher from the elusive language of the Rig Veda, but the hymn’s description of him as “shoulderless” suggests the form of a giant serpent. Predating the heroes of Greco-Roman mythology by a millennium, Indra was the world’s first dragon-slayer.

  Let me now sing the heroic deeds of Indra, the first that the thunderbolt-wielder performed. He killed the dragon and pierced an opening for the waters; he split open the bellies of mountains.

  He killed the dragon who lay upon the mountain; Tvastr fashioned the roaring thunderbolt for him. Like lowing cows, the flowing waters rushed straight down to the sea.

  Wildly excited like a bull, he took the Soma for himself and drank the extract from the three bowls in the three-day Soma ceremony. Indra the Generous seized his thunderbolt to hurl as a weapon; he killed the first-born of dragons.

  Indra, when you killed the first-born of dragons and overcame by your own magic the magic of the magicians, at that very moment you brought forth the sun, the sky, and dawn. Since then you have found no enemy to conquer you.

  With his great weapon, the thunderbolt, Indra killed shoulderless Vrtra, his greatest enemy. Like the trunk of a tree whose branches have been lopped off by an axe, the dragon lies flat on the ground.

  For, muddled by drunkenness like one who is no soldier, Vrtra challenged the great hero who had overcome the mighty and who drank Soma to the dregs. Unable to withstand the onslaught of his weapons, he found Indra an enemy to conquer him and was shattered, his nose crushed.

  Without feet or hands he fought against Indra, who struck him on the nape of the neck with his thunderbolt. The steer who wished to become the equal of the bull bursting with seed, Vrtra lay broken in many places.

  Over him as he lay there like a broken reed the swelling waters flowed for man. Those waters that Vrtra had enclosed with his power—the dragon now lay at their feet.

  The vital energy of Vrtra’s mother ebbed away, for Indra had hurled his deadly weapon at her. Above was the mother; below was the son; Dānu lay down like a cow with her calf. In the midst of the channels of the waters which never stood still or rested, the body was hidden. The waters flow over Vrtra’s secret place; he who found Indra an enemy to conquer him sank into long darkness.

  The waters who had the Dāsa for their husband, the dragon for their protector, were imprisoned like the cows imprisoned by the Panis. When he killed Vrtra he split open the outlet of the waters that had been closed.

  Indra, you became a hair of a horse’s tail when Vrtra struck you on the corner of the mouth. You, the one god, the brave one, you won the cows; you won the Soma; you released the seven streams so that they could flow.

  No use was the lightning and thunder, fog and hail that he [Vrtra] had scattered about, when the dragon and Indra fought. Indra the Generous remained victorious for all time to come.

  What avenger of the dragon did you see, Indra, that fear entered your heart when you had killed him? Then you crossed the ninety-nine streams like the frightened eagle crossing the realms of earth and air.

  Indra, who wields the thunderbolt in his hand, is the king of that which moves and that which rests, of the tame and of the horned. He rules the people as their king, encircling all this as a rim encircles spokes.

  A BLACK WIND FROM THE SEA1

  In the Muslim polities of the medieval Middle East, Arabic scholars compiled sprawling encyclopedias of historical knowledge that betrayed their curiosity about dragons and other mythical monsters. One of the earliest of these compendiums was known by a poetic name: Meadows of Gold and Mines of Gems. Its author, al-Masudi (ca. 896–956), was a tireless traveler. He explored Persia, Arabia, Syria, and Egypt; he ventured east as far as the Indus Valley in modern India and south as far as the coasts of East Africa; and he sailed on the Mediterranean Sea, the Indian Ocean, and many points in between. Like the ancient Greek historian Herodotus, al-Masudi gathered information about all manner of foreign peoples and places. During his travels, he compiled one of the earliest accounts in Arabic on the nature of dragons. Like other medieval authors, he situated the habitat of these creatures far from his homeland (in this case, the Atlantic Ocean), rehearsed many theories about their origins and character, and ultimately concluded that God alone knew the secret of their true nature.

  The Tinníns (dragons) are quite unknown in the Abyssinian sea and its numerous estuaries and bays. They are most frequent in the Atlantic. Different opinions have been advanced as to what the dragon is: some believe that it is a black wind in the bottom of the sea, which rises into air, that is to say, the atmosphere, as high as the clouds, like a hurricane whirling dust aloft as it rises from the dragon, and destroying vegetation. The shape of the dragon becomes longer the higher it ascends in the air.

  Some people believe that the dragon is a black serpent which rises into the air, the clouds are at the same time black, all is dark, and this is succeeded by a terrible wind.

  Some are of the opinion that it is an animal which lives in the bottom of the sea, and that, when it is haughty and overbearing, God sends an angel in a cloud, who draws it out. It has the shape of a black shining serpent. When it is carried through the air it goes so high that it does not touch anything with its tail, excepting, perhaps, very high buildings or trees; but it frequently damages many trees. It is carried in the clouds to Gog and Magog. The clouds kill the dragon through cold and rain and give it to Gog and Magog to devour. This is the opinion of Ibn ‘Abbas. There are various other popular traditions respecting the dragon, which are recorded by biographers of Mohammad and other prophets, but we cannot insert them all here. They say, for instance, that the dragons are black serpents which live in the desert, whence they pass, by rivers swelled with rain, into the sea. They feed there on sea animals, grow to an immense size, and live a long time; but when one of them has reached an age of five hundred years, it becomes so oppressive to sea animals, that there happens something like what we have related, as being the account of Ibn ‘Abbas. Some, they state, are white, and others black like serpents.

  The Persians do not deny the existence of dragons. They believe that they have seven heads, they call them Gorgons, and allude frequently to them in their tales. God knows best what the dragons really are.

  NO ONE EVER ESCAPES MY CLAWS1

  The indebtedness of medieval Persians to western conceptions of dragons was on full display in The Book of Kings (Shahnameh), an epic poem about the heroic exploits of the kings of the Persian Empire from ancient times to the seventh century CE, when Muslim Arabs conquered Iran. Among the mightiest of these celebrated kings was the legendary Rostam. Like the Greek hero Hercules, Rostam was famous for completing a series of difficult trials that involved vanquishing mythological monsters. Accompanied only by his faithful steed Rakhsh, who plays no small part in the action, Rostam fought a dragon on a desolate plain. In Asian traditions, the banter between the hero and the monster was not unusual for depictions of dragons often had the ability to converse with human beings, but all the more distinctive when compared with western European stories, in which dragons roar and hiss, but only rarely have the power of speech.

  A dragon, from which no elephant had ever escaped, appeared on the plain. Its lair was nearby, and even demons were afraid to cross its path. As it approached it saw Rostam asleep and Rakhsh standing awake, alert as a lion. He wondered what had lain down here in his s
leeping place, because nothing ever came this way, neither demons nor elephants nor lions; and if anything did come, it didn’t escape this dragon’s teeth and claws. It turned toward Rakhsh, who trotted over to Rostam and woke him. Rostam was immediately alert, ready to fight, but he gazed about him in the darkness, and the fearsome dragon disappeared. In his annoyance Rostam chided Rakhsh for waking him. He slept again, and again the dragon emerged from the darkness. Rakhsh stamped on Rostam’s pillow and pawed at the ground, and once more Rostam woke. He sprang up, his face sallow with apprehension, and gazed about him, but he saw nothing except the darkness. He said to his kind, wise horse, “You should sleep in the night’s darkness, but you keep waking me up; why are you in such a hurry for me to be awake? If you disturb me again like this, I’ll cut your feet off with my sword. I’ll go on foot, dragging my lance and heavy mace to Mazanderan.” For a third time he lay his head down to sleep, using Rakhsh’s barding as his mattress and bedcovers. The fearsome dragon roared, his breath seeming to flicker with flames, and Rakhsh galloped away, afraid to approach Rostam. His heart was split in two, fearing both Rostam and the dragon. But his agitation for Rostam urged him back to the hero’s side; he neighed and reared up, and his hooves pawed violently at the ground. Rostam woke from a sweet sleep, furious with his horse, but this time God produced a light so that the dragon could not hide, and Rostam made him out in the darkness. He quickly drew his sword, and the ground flashed with the fire of combat. He called out to the dragon, “Tell me your name, because from now on you will not see the world to be as you wish. It’s not right for me to kill you without learning your name.” The fearsome dragon said, “No one ever escapes my claws; all of this plain is mine, like the sky and air above it. Eagles don’t dare fly over this land, and even the stars don’t look down on it.” It paused, and then said, “What is your name, because your mother must weep for you?” The hero replied, “I am Rostam, the son of Zal, who was the son of Sam, of the family of Nariman.” Then the dragon leaped at him, but in the end he could not escape from Rostam, because when Rakhsh saw the strength of his massive body bearing down on Rostam, he laid back his ears and sank his teeth into the dragon’s shoulders. He tore at the dragon’s flesh, and the lion-like Rostam was astonished at his ferocity. Rostam smote with his sword and lopped the dragon’s head off, and poison flowed like a river from its trunk. The ground beneath its body disappeared beneath a stream of blood, and Rostam gave a great sigh when he looked at the dragon, and saw that all the dark desert flowed with blood and poison. He was afraid, and stared in horror, murmuring the name of God over and over again. He went into the stream and washed his body and head, acknowledging God’s authority over the world. He said, “Great God, you have given me strength and intelligence and skills, so that before me demons, lions and elephants, waterless deserts and great rivers like the Nile, are as nothing in my eyes. But enemies are many and the years are few.” When he had finished his prayer, he saddled Rakhsh, mounted, and went on his way through a land of sorcerers.

  THE EIGHT-HEADED SERPENT OF KOSHI1

  The oldest surviving text from Japan is known as the Records of Ancient Matters (Kojiki). The statesman Ō No Yasumaro allegedly compiled this chronicle of ancient stories about the Japanese past for the court of Empress Genmei (r. 707–21), the forty-third monarch of Japan. His purpose was both scholarly and political. Drawing on folktales, old songs, and imperial genealogies, Ō No Yasumaro constructed an elaborate myth of national origins that legitimated the rule of the royal family by tracing their descent from celestial beings. Chief among these heavenly heroes was Rushing Raging Man (literally His-Swift-Impetuous-Male-Augustness), who vanquished an enormous eight-headed serpent with a penchant for fortified liquor. This deed earned for him the hand of his bride Wondrous-Inada-Princess as well as a legendary great sword, the Grass-Cutter, a symbol of valor that in time became one of the three sacred treasures making up the imperial regalia of Japan.

  So having been expelled, Rushing Raging Man descended to a place called Tori-kami at the head-waters of the River Hi in the Land of Idzumo. At this time, some chopsticks came floating down the stream. So Rushing Raging Man, thinking that there must be people at the head-waters of the river, went up to look for them. He came upon an old man and an old woman, who had a young girl between them. They were all weeping. Then he deigned to ask: “Who are you?” So the old man replied, saying: “I am spirit of the land, a child of the spirit Great Mountain Majesty. I am called by the name of Foot-Stroking Elder. My wife is called by the name of Hand-Stroking Elder. My daughter is called by the name of Wondrous-Inada-Princess.” Again he asked: “Why are you crying?” The old man answered, saying: “I had originally eight young girls as daughters, but the eight-headed serpent of Koshi has come every year and devoured them one by one, and it is now its time to come again, and therefore we weep.” Then he asked him: “What does it look like?” The old man answered, saying: “Its eyes are like winter cherries, it has one body with eight heads and eight tails. Moreover, on its body grows moss and also cypress trees. Its length extends over eight valleys and eight hills, and if one looks at its belly, it is always bloody and inflamed.” Then Rushing Raging Man said to the old man: “If this is your daughter, will you offer her to me?” He replied saying: “With honor, but I do not know your name.” Then he replied, saying: “I am the younger brother of the great and mighty spirit Heaven Shining. I have recently descended from Heaven.” Then Foot-Stroking Elder and Hand-Stroking Elder said, “If that is so, then we offer her to you with reverence.” So Rushing Raging Man took the young girl and changed her at once into a close-toothed comb which he stuck into his august hair-bunch and said to her parents: “Distill some liquor eight times to make it strong. Then build a fence round about. In that fence make eight gates. At each gate, tie together eight platforms. On each platform, put a liquor-vat and into each vat pour the fortified liquor, and wait.” So as they waited after having thus prepared everything in accordance with his bidding, the eight-headed serpent came just as the old man had said, and immediately dipped a head into each vat and drank the liquor. Thereupon it became intoxicated with drinking and all the heads lay down and slept. Then Rushing Raging Man drew his holy long sword that was girded on him and cut the serpent in pieces, so that the River Hi transformed into a river of flowing blood. When he cut the middle tail, however, the edge of his holy sword broke. Then, thinking it strange, he thrust into the serpent’s flesh with the broken point of his sword and looked and found a great sword within. So he took this great sword and, marveling, he respectfully informed the mighty spirit Heaven Shining. This is the Grass-Cutter Great Sword.

  CHIEF OF THE SCALY CREATURES1

  In premodern Chinese culture, dragons had a utility well beyond their role as nefarious adversaries in ancient stories about indomitable heroes. During the Ming dynasty (1368–1644), scholars wrote about the medicinal properties of dragon bones (in all likelihood, dinosaur bones), which the great rivers of China deposited on their banks. The proper use of this precious natural resource by medical practitioners required an understanding of the character of the dragon as a quasi-divine creature, its affinities with particular animals, and its aversion to certain insects and objects. In his vast compilation of medical lore (Bencao Gangmu), the famed herbologist Li Shizhen (1518–93) gathered the insights of medieval Chinese authorities on the dragon to fashion a portrait of this mysterious beast far more vivid than any descriptions that survive in the heroic literature of ancient Asia.

  Li Shizhen says: According to Luo Yuan in the Erya yi: The dragon is the chief of the scaly creatures. Wang Fu described how its shape contains nine similarities. To wit, the head of a camel, the antlers of a deer, the eyes of a rabbit, the ears of an ox, the neck of a snake, the belly of a clam, the scales of a fish, the claws of an eagle, and the paws of a tiger. Its back has eighty-one scales, which as nine nines is a yang number. Its sound is like tapping on a copper plate. The sides of its mouth have whiskers. Beneath its
chin is a bright pearl. Under its throat are reversed scales. On top of its head is the boshan, also called the chimu. Without its chimu, a dragon cannot ascend to the heavens. Its exhalations of qi form clouds and can transform into both water and fire. Lu Dian in the Piya stated: The fire of a dragon will blaze in humidity and will burn in the presence of water. Attacking it with human fire will extinguish the dragon’s fire . . . The dragon is born from an egg that it hatches and conscientiously protects. When the male calls upwind and the female calls downwind, through the wind a new dragon is conceived. According to Shidian: When dragons mate they change into two small snakes. Furthermore, according to some stories, the dragon’s nature is coarse and violent, yet it loves beautiful jade and kongqing stones and enjoys eating the flesh of swallows. It is afraid of iron and mangcao herb, centipedes and lianzhi branches, and Five Colored [multicolored] silk. Therefore, those who have eaten swallows avoid crossing waters, those who pray for rain use swallows, those who want waters to subside use iron, those who want to provoke a dragon use mangcao herb, and those who sacrifice to Qu Yuan wrap dumplings in lian leaves and colored silk and throw them in the river. Medical practitioners use dragon bones, so they ought to understand the dragon’s affinities and aversions as they are presented here.