Demonic Warfare provides an innovative analysis of the links between China's religious and literary traditions, with Mark Meulenbeld drawing on a wealth of historical and ethnographic data to convincingly demonstrate that the general structure and divine protagonists of the Ming novel Canonization of the gods (Fengshen yanyi 封神演義) derive from diverse facets of Chinese religious culture, including Daoist and local ritual traditions, temple networks and their festivals, martial troupes that performed during processions, and armed groups that relied on ritual as a source of strength in battle.
Meulenbeld's study is divided into three main sections. Chapters 1 and 2 transcend conventional wisdom by delineating how the development of Canonization of the gods was marked by narratives centering on cults to fierce martial deities being grafted onto ancient stories of King Wu's triumph over the Shang dynasty. Chapters 3 and 4 explore how rituals to martial deities advanced to the forefront of festival systems, with some absorbed into the state cult. Chapter 5 synthesizes Meulenbeld's findings to argue that Canonization of the gods offers a “relational framework” for use in elucidating hierarchical structures that feature Daoist deities in charge of local martial spirits. Meulenbeld also claims that local communities could choose to defend themselves “by appropriating the powers of martial gods from late Ming novels” (pp. 25–26).
Demonic Warfare succeeds in drawing our attention to the vital place of Daoism in communal religious life, especially its links to cults of the City God and the Emperor of the Eastern Peak (see, e.g., pp. 19–20, 119–20, 138–42, 170–76), phenomena that have also been explored by scholars like Vincent Goossaert and John Lagerwey. Meulenbeld also proposes an exciting new hypothesis about possible links between the late-Yuan Red Turban rebels and the ritual practices of specialists who wear red headbands (pp. 128–30), and enhances our appreciation of the interaction between exorcistic and judicial rituals (pp. 102, 177, 198).
The pioneering scope of Demonic Warfare raises a number of major issues that merit further consideration in the future. While Meulenbeld's claim on page 208 that Canonization of the gods “clearly represents a Daoist project for subsuming the gods of … local rituals under the unifying authority of a national liturgy” may slightly overshoot the mark, subsequent observations on Daoism's role as a “mediating force” between local and canonical ritual traditions (pp. 209–10) are highly thought-provoking, while the book's concluding assertion that “Canonization … is itself a religious work” (p. 212) does full justice to its cultural import.
Another issue that has bedeviled scholars for decades is how best to define Daoism and the specialists who practice it. Meulenbeld views Daoism as “a body of thought and practice constituted by religious specialists proficient in classical ritual for worship of the transcendent Dao” (p. 19; emphasis added), which is largely in step with standard definitions but does not fully account for specialists who stage blood sacrifices in the vernacular (see, e.g., pp. 21, 98). To his credit, Meulenbeld is well aware of this problem, noting that martial deities tend to be “relatively low-ranking guardians of ‘classical’ Daoist ritual” (pp. 68, 128, 208), but the ways in which these diverse ritual systems interacted is a subject requiring greater attention from both historians and anthropologists.
A related problem involves possible overlap between rites to martial deities and battle rituals practiced by armed groups of men and women. Meulenbeld is justified in pointing out that soldiers regularly took part in local festivals, as well as the use of exorcistic rituals by performance troupes that doubled as local defense forces (see, e.g., pp. 10–15, 144–47, 193–98). However, the extent to which fighters performed exorcistic rituals in the heat of battle and under the tutelage of Daoist masters remains unclear. While Meulenbeld cites two instances in which soldiers are said to have painted their faces like the members of performance troupes (pp. 116, 196), in both cases this was a ruse to deceive enemies, not an actual battle technique. Moreover, military rituals (junli 軍禮) performed by state forces and their enemies tended to feature blood oaths or sacrifices to drums and banners (including the use of human victims), while rebel forces often relied on group possession techniques under the leadership of male or female spirit mediums. It is also essential to realize that martial rituals lie at the heart of mediums’ rituals for leading legions of spirit soldiers against afflicting demons.Footnote 2
On a more general level, works like Demonic Warfare reflect a broader tendency to overestimate the cultural impact of novels while downplaying dramatic performances (including ritual dramas), storytelling, folksongs, woodblock prints, and murals (today largely replaced by comic books, video games, television, and cinema). While Demonic Warfare does mention the role of “dramatic practices,” it often favors assertions such as “books like Canonization inform the practices endorsed by religious communities” (p. 190; emphasis added). It also seems questionable to translate the verb shuo 說 as “read” in a passage about the late Ming rebel Zhang Xianzhong 張獻忠 (1606–47) using works of literature to instruct his troops in tactics (p. 192), as the text is most likely referring to oral storytelling. Similarly, adding the word “novel” (albeit in brackets) to a quote from Joseph Esherick's classic study of the Boxers pertaining to the role of operas in providing “narrative context” to their possession rituals (p. 193) distorts his original argument, which stressed the importance of operas for the mostly illiterate Boxer forces. In short, our field remains trapped by a tendency to assume that the spread of certain beliefs and practices must have been due to the popularity of novels. Inasmuch as most late imperial Chinese were only functionally literate, however, the influence of novels like Canonization of the gods should not be considered a point of fact but rather a hypothesis requiring rigorous evidence about how such works could be transmitted and received.
One final problem that merits further exploration is the place of gender. In the context of Chinese religions, this can be seen in cults to martial goddesses, some of which were headed by female mediums with the power to lead entranced warriors into battle. Perhaps the most renowned is the Lady Linshui (Linshui furen 臨水夫人), the subject of a brilliant ethnography by Brigitte Baptandier that regrettably is not cited in Meulenbeld's study.Footnote 3
The above flaws in no way detract from Demonic Warfare’s significance, however. By vividly portraying religion's position in Chinese literature, as well as advancing new perspectives on beliefs and practices related to martial deities, Meulenbeld has achieved breakthroughs that will inspire future generations of scholars.
