Myths of China and Japan: with illustrations in colour & monochrome after paintings and photographs

In Short

This expansive comparative study traces the mythologies of China and Japan back to ancient global trade networks, showing how religious symbols and folk tales drifted across continents rather than developing in total isolation. Traversing creation legends, rain-controlling dragons, magical elixirs, and heroic quests, the text demonstrates that Far Eastern traditions absorb complex ideas from Egyptian, Babylonian, Indian, and Eurasian sources. It has endured because it challenges nationalistic myths of pure cultural isolation, offering a rigorous, interconnected view of human imagination that links the spiritual heritage of East Asia to the wider ancient world.

The Story

The inquiry begins by dismantling the long-held assumption that ancient China and Japan developed their civilizations in total isolation from the rest of the world. It argues that official Han dynasty records invented inflated chronologies and clever political fables to conceal the varied foreign influences that shaped early East Asian culture. Instead, ancient maritime and overland trade routes served as vital channels for complex religious, agricultural, and technological concepts. Artisans, miners, and priestly prospectors carried ideas across vast continental distances, introducing tools like the Egyptian potter's wheel alongside rich myths of divine creation. Chinese culture heroes like Shun and Shen-ming, known as the Divine Husbandman, embody this fusion of agriculture, craft, and divine authority, closely mirroring Western deities like Ptah and Osiris.

From early craftsmanship, the investigation moves into cosmological symbolism and the natural world, focusing heavily on the origin and growth of dragon lore. Rather than an indigenous invention born of isolated imagination, the Asian dragon emerges as a composite myth combining elements of Indian Nagas, Mesopotamian lion-eagles, and Egyptian water deities. Associated with rain, thunder, and pearl-guarding sea monsters, dragon lore reflects ancient pearl-fishers and prospectors who sought vital "soul substance" in metals, jade, and precious gems. This quest for spiritual power and physical immortality extends directly into plant and animal symbolism, where date palms, hemp, and wild Korean ginseng become sacred elixirs linked to longevity, healing, and mystical vision.

The text then turns to core creation narratives and divine pantheons across East Asia. Rejecting the notion that Far Eastern animism is merely primitive or spontaneous, it reveals how world-giant myths like P'an Ku parallel the Scandinavian Ymir and Egyptian Ptah, while mother-goddesses like Poosa derive from widespread ancient fertility cults. Heroic legends further illustrate these international connections. The Chinese Emperor Yu regulates a catastrophic deluge after receiving a river map from a fish-bodied water spirit, echoing Babylonian flood myths. In Japan, the folklore hero Momotaro uses millet dumplings and animal allies to defeat demon kings, while imperial legends describe lost magic weapons like the Kusanagi sword resting in an undersea dragon palace guarded by silent sentinels.

Finally, the study examines Japanese Shinto traditions and Taoist philosophy, bringing the overarching argument to its final conclusion. The creation of Japanese deities—such as the sun goddess Amaterasu and the impetuous Susa-no-wo born from Izanagi's bodily purification in a river—reflects ancient ritual cleansings and jewel-soul concepts found across antiquity. Philosophical Taoism, as articulated by Lao Tze, expresses a cosmology of the all-pervading Tao that mirrors Indian Upanishadic thought and the Egyptian Logos doctrine. Ultimately, the work demonstrates that ancient East Asian culture is the brilliant culmination of Eurasian trade and migratory human thought, proving that no nation's mythology develops in isolation.

How It Unfolds

Challenging the myth of isolation The opening argument demonstrates that Chinese civilization is not an isolated, self-contained unit, but a vast amalgamation of diverse tribal ideas accumulated across time and space. It sharpens its focus by critiquing Han dynasty historians who fabricated inflated chronologies and secondary fables to conceal the foreign cultural influences entering the empire.

The migration of symbols and crafts The narrative traces early technological and religious transfers across Eurasia, showing how the Egyptian potter's wheel and its associated Ptah-Osiris mythology traveled across trade routes to Korea and Japan. Chinese agricultural culture heroes, such as Shun and Shen-ming, mirror Western deities who granted pottery and farming skills to early humanity.

The universal nature of dragons Examining dragon lore, the text connects Chinese and Japanese rain deities to Indian Nagas, Mesopotamian lion-headed eagles, and European thunder gods. Dragons function as guardians of pearls and masters of water, directly reflecting the ancient beliefs and fears of early maritime pearl-fishers.

Elixirs and the search for soul substance The analysis explores how the human quest for longevity led to the sacred valuation of jade, pearls, date palms, and wild Korean ginseng. These items were prized because they were believed to possess concentrated soul substance, blending early trade routes with sacred alchemy.

Creation giants and deluge heroes Creation myths are unpacked through figures like P'an Ku, the world-artisan giant who closely parallels Scandinavian and Egyptian creator deities. Heroic legends, such as Emperor Yu controlling a catastrophic deluge with help from a fish-bodied river spirit, demonstrate how flood narratives brought order to chaos.

Folk heroes and divine weapons Popular stories, such as Momotaro defeating demon kings with animal companions and divers searching undersea palaces for the imperial Kusanagi sword, illustrate how mythic motifs permeate popular folklore and imperial power.

Purification, pantheons, and the eternal Tao The study concludes with Japanese Shinto purification rituals that birthed the sun goddess Amaterasu and the impetuous Susa-no-wo. It compares Lao Tze's concept of the Tao with Indian Upanishadic wisdom and Egyptian Logos doctrines, sealing the overarching argument for a shared global heritage.

The People

Shun and Shen-ming, the foundational Chinese culture heroes, seek to elevate early humanity by discovering healing herbs and perfecting pottery. Facing primeval wilderness and disease, they master agriculture and craft vessels on river banks, transforming scattered nomadic tribes into settled, healthy communities.

Emperor Yu seeks to save his kingdom from overwhelming floodwaters that submerge hills and bewilder the populace. Hindered by the failed damming methods of his predecessors, he earns divine favor and receives a detailed river map from a fish-bodied water spirit, allowing him to drain nine channels and establish lasting imperial governance.

Momotaro, the valiant hero born from a peach, wants to protect his realm by subduing the dark forces of the Isle of Demons. Facing the fierce demon king Akandoji armed with an iron club, Momotaro recruits a dog, monkey, and pheasant using millet dumplings, ultimately employing jiu-jitsu wrestling to bind the demon king and claim his treasure.

Izanagi, the Japanese creator deity, seeks spiritual purification after escaping the hideous pollutions of the underworld. Confronted by deathly decay, he bathes at a river mouth, shedding filth to generate the core pantheon—including the sun goddess Amaterasu from his left eye and the impetuous Susa-no-wo from his nose.

P'an Ku embodies the central idea of primeval creation, seeking to transform cosmic chaos into an ordered universe. Facing an unformed void, this primordial world-artisan carves out the earth and sky, establishing the physical architecture of existence.

In Its Own Voice

Writing in the preface, the text cautions against viewing Chinese culture as an isolated, self-contained phenomenon.

"No graver error can hence be committed than to attribute any culture idea at the outset to the Chinese, for no other reason than because it appears within the precincts of their empire."

In analyzing dragon symbolism, the author emphasizes the deity's absolute connection to rain and water.

"But no matter what its shape may be, the dragon is intimately connected with water."

Describing the mystical qualities attributed to rare plants, the text notes the high requirements placed on those who hunt for wild ginseng.

"It is chiefly found in the Kang-ge Mountains, but it is rare, and the search so often ends in failure, that the common people credit it with magical properties, and believe that only men of pure lives can find it."

What It's Really About

At its core, the text explores diffusionism—the thesis that human civilization, spiritual concepts, and technological inventions did not develop independently across isolated regions, but migrated along ancient trade routes. By linking Far Eastern lore to Egyptian, Babylonian, Indian, and Eurasian sources, it argues that human culture is fundamentally interconnected. It questions the illusion of pristine national isolation, revealing how ruling elites and court scholars fabricate historical fables to assert cultural purity. Underlying every myth of rain-making dragons, divine potters, and life-prolonging elixirs is mankind's shared search for "soul substance"—a universal attempt to conquer death, secure prosperity, and impose divine order upon a turbulent world.

Why Read It Today

Readers passionate about comparative mythology, ancient history, and world folklore will find this work immensely rewarding. Reading it feels like embarking on a sprawling voyage across continents, where familiar fairy tales, local deities, and creation myths are suddenly connected across thousands of miles. What stays with you is a transformed view of the ancient world—not as a collection of isolated kingdoms, but as a dynamic network of trade, shared ideas, and migrating beliefs.

However, modern readers should be prepared for its early twentieth-century academic style. The narrative is dense and encyclopedic, packed with elaborate footnotes, archaic transliterations, and lengthy lists of obscure deities. Its hyper-diffusionist methodology sometimes forces broad comparative leaps—linking Chinese Taoism directly to Egyptian Logos doctrines or Scandinavian giants—which reflects the ambitious, broad-brush theories of its period rather than contemporary archaeological consensus. Furthermore, its reliance on colonial-era travel accounts introduces dated perspectives on native populations. Yet for those willing to navigate its academic complexity, it offers a fascinating snapshot of early comparative anthropology and an inspiring vision of human cultural unity.