Meat, Wine, and Fighting Monks
Did Shaolin Monks breach Buddhist Dietary Regulations?
by Dr. Meir Shahar
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One of the earliest extant sources on the Shaolin martial arts is a Tang-Period (618-907) short story on a historical Shaolin monk named Sengchou 480-560). Included in an anthology attributed to Zhang Zhuo (ca. 660-741), the story was probably authored some two-hundred years after the monk's time, for which reason it cannot be considered a reliable source on him. However, the tale might well reflect the conditions of martial practice that existed at the Shaolin Monastery during the period in which it was written - namely the seventh, or eighth, centuries.
The story presents Sengchou as a physically feeble monk constantly abused by his fellow monks. Shaolin's sturdy fighting monks beat him up all the time. In desperation, Sengchou turns to the monastery's patron deity for help. He enters the hall where the god Vajrap?ni (Chinese: Jingang shen) is being worshipped, prostrates himself on the ground in front of his statue, and begs the deity to make him strong. After he clings to Vajrap?ni's feet for six days and nights, the god responds to Sengchou's entreaties. Revealing his divine form to the devotee, and holding in his hands a bowl of meat, he bawls at him:
"Boy! Do you wish to become strong?"
"I do."
"Are you determined?"
"I am."
"Can you eat sinews-flesh?"
"I can not."
"Why?" inquired the deity.
"Monks are supposed to renounce meat."
In response, the god lifted his bowl, and with his knife proceeded to force the sinews-flesh upon Sengchou. At first the Dhy?na Master refused to accept, but when the god threatened him with his vajra club (jingang chu), he was so terrified that he did eat. In a short while he finished his meal, whereupon the god said to him: "Now, you are already extremely strong. However, you should fully uphold the [Buddhist] teachings, Beware!"
Since it was already daylight, Sengchou returned to his room. His fellow novices all interrogated him: "Scumbag! Where have you been just now?!" Chou did not answer. In a short while they all went to the hall for their common meal. After eating, they again entertained themselves with fighting. The Dhyana Master said: "I have strength now. I suspect not the same kind as yours." Then he flexed his arms, revealing his powerful sinews and bones. He looked practically like a god.
Before they recovered their senses, the Dhyana Master said, "I will give you a demonstration." Thereupon he entered the hall and started walking horizontally on the walls. He advanced first from the east, then from west, a total of several hundred feet. Then he leaped upwards, his head hitting the ceiling-beams several times. Finally he lifted several thousand pounds. His fighting was swift and powerful.
Those who had belittled him now prostrated themselves on the ground, their sweat trickling. No one dared face up to him.
The Tang-period story is interesting for several reasons: It reveals, firstly, that as early as the medieval period Shaolin martial practice was related to the veneration of Buddhist martial deities. Vajrapani, whose divine help Sengchou sought, was a military Buddhist god of Indian origins, whom Buddhist mythology had equipped with the legendary weapon vajra (Chinese: Jingang), meaning literally "diamond." A Shaolin stele inscription dating from the twelfth century reveals that the monastery's monks had indeed venerated this powerful god, beseeching him to endow them with physical strength. In the ensuing Ming Period (1368-1644) Shaolin monks changed Vajrapani's image to suit the evolution of their own martial practice. By the sixteenth century at the latest, the staff became the dominant weapon of Shaolin monks, for which reason they replaced the martial god's original vajra with it, creating a legend according to which Vajrapani was the divine progenitor of their renowned staff techniques. Later still, Shaolin monks confused Vajrapani with another Buddhist deity, Kimnara, for no other reason probably than the similarity of their Chinese names. Vajrapani was also known in Chinese as Naluoyan (from the Sanskrit: Narayana), a name similar to Kimnara's Chinese transliteration: Jin'naluo.
In this essay, however, we are concerned not with Shaolin's tutelary deity Vajrapani, but with another motif featured in the Tang-Period story: the connection between fighting and the consumption of meat. As a prerequisite for strengthening Sengchou, Vajrapani demands that his devotee stray from Buddhist dietary regulations and consume animal flesh. When the monk refuses, the Buddhist god himself shoves the forbidden foodstuff down his throat. The association of martial monks with meat was to remain a constant feature of martial-art literature. Novels, plays, and, more recently, films and television serials have invariably portrayed fighting monks as meat gobblers (and, usually, wine-guzzlers as well). From the Tang-Period all through the twentieth century, fictional martial monks have delighted in nothing better than alcohol and animal flesh.
One reason for the association of martial monks with meat has been the assumption that it is indispensable for physical strength. To this day there are those who, believing that athletic achievements require a meat-based diet, surmise that Shaolin monks consume it. However, the literary motif of the carnivorous fighting-monk also mirrors another supposition: namely that those who violate one monastic prohibition (of war) are likely to transgress another (of meat). Occasionally, the two vices are metaphorically combined, as the savage monk is imagined feasting on the flesh of his fallen enemies. Before he heads for battle, the monkish protagonist of Dong Jieyuan's (fl. 1200) medley-play, Western Chamber Romance, exclaims (in Chen Li-li's translation): "Today I'll have meat to eat... I'll mow down the thieves with my sword. Let them be pastry fillings for our meal!" In the popular imagination, then, the cruelty of fighting has become indistinguishable from the brutality of a carnivorous diet.
One of the most memorable fighting monks in Chinese literature is Lu Zhishen, protagonist of the early Ming novel Water Margin (Shuihu zhuan) (ca. 1400). Also known as the "Tattooed Monk" (Hua Heshang), Lu is ordained at a Shanxi-Province monastery, where historical fighting monks practiced the martial arts. This is the Wutai-Mountain monastic complex, whose fighting monks - as we will see below - were celebrated for their bravery beginning in the Northern Song (960-1127). The novel has Lu Zhishen consume meat and wine inside the temple. When he goes as far as forcing animal flesh into the mouths of his scandalized fellow monks, he is thrown out of the monastery and assumes the career of an itinerant martial artist. The fighting monk's adventures lead him eventually to the heroic band of rebels, who live by the "Water Margin," at the Liangshan Marsh.
The novel highlights Lu's dietary transgressions, having him devour dog meat which, though consumed in parts of China, is shunned by many Chinese. The popular Chinese religion regards dogs as ritually polluting, for which reason it also considers them magically potent. In Taiwan, for example, canine deities are the subject of nightly worship, and dog flesh is sometimes utilized in black magic. This does not deter the carnivorous Lu Zhishen, who eagerly consumes all meat. The narrator exploits the literary topos of the meat-eating monk for all it's worth, savoring each detail as the dog-hungry Lu thrusts both hands into the animal's carcass:
Lu consumed ten big bowls of wine. "Have you any meat?" he asked. "I want a platter."
"I had some beef earlier in the day," replied the proprietor, "but it's all sold out."
Lu Zhishen caught a whiff of the fragrance of cooking meat. He went into the yard and found a dog boiling in an earthenware pot by the compound wall.
"You've got dog meat," he said. "Why don't you sell me any?"
"I thought as a monk you wouldn't eat it, so I didn't ask."
"I've plenty of money here." Lu pulled out some silver and handed it over. "Bring me half."
The proprietor cut off half the dog carcass and placed it on the table with a small dish of garlic sauce. Lu tore into it delightedly with both hands. At the same time he consumed another ten bowls of wine. He found the wine very agreeable and kept calling for more...(Sidney Shapiro's translation).
Lu's dietary misdemeanor was taken up, six-hundred years after the novel's composition, by a movie which portrays Shaolin monks as dog-eaters. Produced in 1982, the film SHAOLIN TEMPLE (Shaolin si), has played a significant role in the monastery's modern history. Among the biggest blockbusters in mainland cinema history, it featured some of the greatest Chinese martial artists, most notably the legendary Jet Li (Li Lianjie) (b. 1963), who by the age of eighteen had earned the title of All-Round National Champion five times. At the tender age of eleven, Li had performed at the White House as part of a Chinese martial-art tour, which figured in the hesitant beginnings of diplomatic relations between China and the United States. Eight years later, he was cast in the movie SHAOLIN TEMPLE as a monk, appearing side by side with some of the monastery's own martial artists. The movie, which was filmed on location, aroused tremendous interest in the Shaolin Monastery. Following its screening, thousands of aspiring martial artists flocked to the temple, initiating the construction of dozens of fighting schools around it. Thus, reality imitated fiction, as the success of a movie on Shaolin contributed to the monastery's revival. (See Gene Ching's [Chen Xing Hua], "How Jet Li Saved the Shaolin Temple," [Wushu] Kungfu (January 1999)).
Playing a major role in the monastery's modern history, SHAOLIN TEMPLE furnishes a striking example of historical continuity. The film's subject matter is the monks' historical assistance to Emperor Li Shimin 600-649), which took place thirteen-hundred years earlier. Indeed, the movie features the authentic Shaolin Monastery Stele of 728, which recorded the monk's military support of the Tang ruler. This is not to say, however, that history is not fictionally embellished: In the movie, the monks do not merely fight for Li Shimin, but they also save his life. In gratitude the emperor travels to Shaolin, where he himself exempts the monks from their faith's dietary rules, permitting them to consume meat. The political sanction is joined by a theological one; after they feast on dog meat, the monks pronounce: "When the Buddha is in your heart, meat and wine are nothing."
The stubborn recurrence of meat-eating in fighting monks' fiction - from Zhang Zhuo's Tang-Period story of monk Sengchou to the 1980s movie SHAOLIN TEMPLE - suggests that it might not be historically unfounded. Perhaps, literary carnivorous monks had been fashioned after real Shaolin warriors. If so, at least some Shaolin monks disregarded not only their faith's prohibition of war, but also its proscription of meat. In his HISTORIAN'S CRAFT, March Bloch notes that it is sometimes useful to conduct historical investigations "backwards" - from the present to the past: "for the natural progression of all research is from the best (or least badly) understood to the most obscure." We may therefore follow his clue, and begin our inquiry into Shaolin dietary history by an examination of the monastery's current conditions:
In a series of essays published in the California-based magazine KUNG FU TAI CHI, Gene Ching has unraveled the complexities of the Shaolin community. The title "Shaolin Monk" has been assumed by practitioners so divers that it stretches our very understanding of Buddhist monasticism. The Shaolin fraternity includes at least four disciple-types: At the core stand Buddhist-ordained clerics who reside in the historical monastery itself. Then there is the much larger category of Shaolin-ordained monks, who having graduated from the monastery's martial program, left it to pursue an itinerant military career, often opening their own "Shaolin" martial-art schools. A third "Shaolin-monk" group is made of professional martial artists, who have never been ordained as Buddhist clerics, but nevertheless - since they belong to the monastery's performing company - don monastic robes. Sometimes dubbed "fake monks" or "performance monks," these martial artists have been assigned their stage roles by Shaolin's abbot. Finally, there is the vast category of lay disciples (sujia dizi): accomplished martial artists who have been trained at the monastery, but have never been ordained as - nor do they presume to be - Buddhist clerics. Many of the latter were born in the monastery's vicinity of Dengfeng County, and their families have been practicing Shaolin fighting for generations. Indeed, some of the greatest masters of the Shaolin fighting-style are lay practitioners such as Liang Yiquan(b. 1931) and Liu Baoshan (b. 1931).
As to Buddhist dietary laws, they are kept by the first type of Shaolin-residing clerics only. Meat is not served in today's Shaolin Temple, and Buddhist monks who live inside the monastery adhere to a vegetarian diet. By contrast, most other "Shaolin monks" are openly carnivorous. It is not surprising, perhaps, that the monastery's "performing monks" consume meat, just as lay disciples do. It is striking, though, that ordained martial-monks do so as well. Most of those fighting monks who have left the monastery to open private schools do eat meat. These tough martial artists continue to present themselves as monks, donning Buddhist uniforms, all the while consuming animal flesh. Indeed they give the impression that carnivorousness is an integral element of the martial monk's (wuseng) ethos. When interviewed about their dietary habits, they explain that Shaolin fighting monks have always consumed meat, sometimes citing the legend celebrated in the film SHAOLIN TEMPLE, according to which it was Emperor Li Shimin who absolved the monks of vegetarianism. Indeed, it is hard to know whether this novel apology for carnivorousness preceded the movie, or originated with it.
As the Shaolin community internationalized, its dietary customs spread overseas. In recent years several Shaolin fighting-monks emigrated to the United States, where they opened martial-art schools. Nowadays, "Shaolin Temples" can be found in places as diverse as Cupertino, California; Houston, Texas; and New York, New York. Most are headed by Shaolin-ordained fighting monks, who are openly carnivorous. Yanming, founder of the Manhattan Shaolin Temple, for example, does not only consume meat and alcohol, but is also married, all the while presenting himself as a Buddhist monk and donning monastic robes. Indeed, Yanming's Shaolin identity is important not only for religious reasons, but also for business ones. It is by virtue of his being an authentic "Shaolin monk" that Yanming has been able to attract martial students, among them such celebrities as the Rap-Music superstar RZA of the band "Wu-tang Clan," so named after the Chinese Wudang martial-art school (See Gene Ching, "Shaolin Temple's Prodigal Son: Monk Shi Yanming's Return to Shaolin After His Defection," KUNG FU QIGONG (Spring 2000): 76-80).
Living, as he does, in the remote United States, Yanming's dietary transgressions do not threaten his fellow monks who stayed at the monastery. However, other carnivorous "Shaolin Monks" reside in the monastery's vicinity, where they come into daily contact with its vegetarian inhabitants. The majority of ordained monks who have left the monastery are making a living at Dengfeng County. Their martial schools are situated around the Shaolin Temple, where they regularly compete with resident monks. Similarly, when they are not touring far-away countries, Shaolin "performing-monks" reside at the temple, from which they sneak out for meat snacks in nearby restaurants. Finally, lay disciples come and go into the temple, to meet and train with their old masters. Thus, Shaolin-residing vegetarian monks come into close contact with other types of Shaolin practitioners who do eat meat.
The proximity of Shaolin Buddhist monks to what could be described as "semi-monks," "half-monks" or "fake-monks" has been one reason for Abbot Yongxin's (b. 1965) decision to physically remove the latter's residences from the monastery's vicinity. When he assumed his leadership position in 1999, Yongxin expelled from the monastery several high-profile carnivorous fighting-monks. Backed by the Henan Provincial authorities, he proceeded in the following year with an ambitious plan of dismantling hundreds of schools, restaurants, gift-shops, and residential shacks from the temple's surroundings. The controversial project, which was critically reviewed in the foreign press, was motivated in part by aesthetic considerations. Like fellow-minded government officials, Yongxin wished to restore Shaolin to its pristine beauty, valued not only in its own right, but also as a means of securing the temple's bid to become a UNESCO-recognized World-Heritage Site. (See Gene Ching, "United Nations, Divided Shaolin," KUNG FU TAI CHI (December 2003): 10-13). However, religious concerns contributed to the relocation project as well. Apparently, Yongxin was attempting to create a physical boundary between his Buddhist sanctuary and the larger Shaolin community, which does not necessarily adhere to monastic laws.
Equipped with the example of Yongxin's purge, we may begin our "backwards" journey in time with a similar attempt to purify the Shaolin Monastery, which was ordered by an emperor two-and-a-half centuries earlier. In 1735, the Governor-General of Henan and Shandong, Wang Shijun (?-1756), reported to the throne his plan to renovate the Shaolin Temple. The governor-general included in his memorial detailed drawings of the planned reconstruction. It was perhaps typical of the reigning emperor, who prided himself on reading government documents late into the night, that he did not perfunctorily approve the plan. Instead, the diligent Yongzheng Emperor (reigned 1723-1735) carefully reviewed the sketches, with an eye not to their architectural elegance but to their implications for the monastery's supervision. The temple's reconstruction, the sovereign ordered, should be so executed as to get rid of fake monks, who violate monastic regulations:
"We have inspected the drawings and noticed that there are twenty-five gate-houses, which are located at some distance from the monastery proper. Like stars scattered far apart, none is situated within the temple. Throughout our empire, it has always been the case that most subsidiary-shrine monk-types do not observe monastic regulations. Doing evil and creating disturbances, they are Buddhism's inferior sorts. Today, as the Shaolin Monastery is undergoing renovation, and it is becoming one temple, these subsidiary-shrine monks should not be allowed to stay outside of it, where they are hard to supervise and control."
According to the eighteenth-century emperor, corrupt monks did not reside inside Shaolin proper, but in scattered residences in the monastery's vicinity. This is not unlike the modern situation where most carnivorous practitioners - ordained and lay alike - sojourn in private Shaolin martial schools, which are spread throughout Dengfeng County. The monarch alluded to these unscrupulous disciples as fangtou seng ("subsidiary-shrine monks"). In the Buddhist idiom of late-imperial times, the term fangtou designated either a monastic building or - as the emperor had in mind - a semi-independent shrine, located in the periphery of a large temple. Such subsidiary hermitages were established to enhance the wealth and prestige of the parent-temple or, in case it was overcrowded, to provide it with additional housing space. As early as the seventeenth century, some monastic leaders were apprehensive of religious transgressions committed in subsidiary shrines. Monks in branch-temples were more difficult to supervise than those residing in large monasteries, for which reason some clerics objected to the establishment of fangtou. The Vinaya Master Duti (1601-1679), who served as abbot of the Longchang Temple on Mt. Baohua, Jiangsu, lamented: "I have observed that, everywhere, ancient monasteries are establishing subsidiary shrines, dividing the monastery's operations, and initiating new enterprises. As a result, self-cultivation is no longer pure, and the monks cease to observe monastic regulations, so much so that the temples' bells and drums are silenced, and the monasteries degenerate..."
It is possible that the Yongzheng Emperor's order to remove the scattered hermitages from Shaolin's periphery was due to a principled objection - similar to abbot Duti's - to the "subsidiary-shrine" institution. However, it is more likely that - in addition to a general concern with the behavior of subsidiary-shrine monks - the emperor was informed of specific transgressions committed by Shaolin-ordained clerics. As early as the sixteenth century, a high-ranking official named Wang Shixing (1547-1598) accused Shaolin monks of eating meat and drinking wine. In the ensuing Qing-Period (1644-1911), the monastery was regularly blamed for religious violations, which were sometimes attributed to its own monks, and sometimes to those occupying its periphery. In 1832, for example, a Dengfeng-County magistrate issued a strict warning to the Shaolin Monastery concerning the behavior of its subsidiary-shrine monks, whom he accused not only of dietary, but also of sexual, offenses. Shaolin-affiliated monks, magistrate He Wei (fl. 1830) charged, engage in drinking, gambling, and whoring:
"Since ancient times, the Shaolin Monastery has been a famous temple. Everywhere, there is not a monk who does not look up to it. Its resident clerics should strictly adhere to the Buddhist code and carefully follow the Pure Regulations, thereby displaying their respect to the monastic community, and their reverence to its laws.
"Now, we have been hearing recently that [Shaolin's] various subsidiary-shrines monks have been regularly interacting with the laity, and have been sheltering criminals. Some invite friends to drunken parties, other gamble in groups, or even gang together to bring over prostitutes. They collude secretly and collaborate in all sorts of evil. This is extremely hateful."
Even though he politely refrained from condemning the Shaolin monks themselves - reserving his criticism for their subsidiary-shrine colleagues - one gets the impression that the magistrate had the former in mind as well. After all, He Wei addressed his admonition to the Shaolin monks - not to their affiliates. It appears, therefore, that his opening allusion to "subsidiary-shrine monks" was meant to save the Shaolin monks face. Indeed, as the letter unfolds, the distinction between "monastery-monks" and "subsidiary-shrine monks" blurs. The magistrate forewarns all Shaolin monks - residents and affiliates alike - that they will be severely punished for their religious transgressions:
"After the monks in the entire monastery read our order and are informed of its contents, they should all purify their hearts and cleanse their minds. Each one of them should burn incense, cultivate the way, and chant the sutras, as well as plough and weed the land. As to all the various types of lay people, the monks are forbidden to secretly collude with them. Nor are the monks allowed to interfere in outside matters, harboring criminals, and instigating trouble. If they dare purposely disobey, and [their crimes] happen to be exposed, we are sure to consider them more serious and punish them accordingly.
As to lay people, they should not be permitted into the monastery...Tenant farmers should reside elsewhere. They should not be allowed to live near the monks."
The magistrate's warning suggests that he was primarily concerned with public order, not monastic law. His edict is replete with references to hidden criminals, which he claimed were sheltered at the Shaolin Monastery. In this respect, He Wei resembled other officials who were concerned with violations of Buddhist law only so far as they proved that their perpetrators were fake monks, and as such prone to sedition and crime. Throughout the Qing Period the government was apprehensive - with some reason - lest graduates of Shaolin's military program would join sectarian rebels. In 1739, for example, the high-ranking Mongolian official Yaertu (?-1767) memorialized to the Qianlong Emperor (reigned: 1736-1795) that "...the sturdy youths of Henan are accustomed to violence, many studying the martial arts. For example, under the pretext of teaching the martial arts, Shaolin-Temple monks have been gathering worthless dregs. Violent criminal types willfully study evil customs which become a fashion. Heterodox sectarians target such criminals, tempting them to join their sects, thereby increasing their numbers."
The political concerns of government bureaucrats such as He Wei and Yaertu could cast doubt on the objectivity of their religious allegations. It could be argued that officials accused Shaolin monks of violating Buddhist law only because they wished to convince the throne that Shaolin was not a genuine monastery, for which reason it posed a political threat. It is significant, therefore, that information on Shaolin religious transgressions is provided not only by outsiders (government officials) but also by insiders (monastic office-holders). As early as the Ming Period (1368-1644), Shaolin monastic authorities were struggling to stem breaches of Buddhist law from their congregation, weeding out monks who violated the monastic code. In 1595 the monastery's superintendents (jiansi) - who were responsible for monastic discipline - engraved in stone a warning to their fellow clerics, lest they transgress Buddhist law. The inscription they authored implies that disrespect for the monastic code was related to Shaolin's unique position as a military temple - because the martial arts were practiced at the monastery, it attracted monks who disregarded Buddhist law:
"Since ancient times, the Shaolin Chan Monastery has been an ancestral Buddhist temple. It ranks first among the world's famous monasteries. However, culture (wen) and warfare (wu) are cultivated there together, and crowds of monks flock to it. Thus, there are some among them who pay no respect to monastic regulations... From now onwards, whenever cases occur where the code is breached and the regulations are violated: If the transgression is small, the offender will be forthwith punished by the abbot; if the transgression is serious, it will be reported by the monks who hold office at the time to the county authorities, and the offender will be punished in accordance with the law."
We are now in a position to evaluate the evidence - literary, ethnographic, and historical - of Shaolin dietary practices: Beginning in the Tang Period and all through the twentieth century, fiction and drama associated fighting monks with the consumption of animal flesh. In novels, short stories, plays and, more recently, movies, martial monks are invariably depicted as meat gobblers. Field work conducted at the Shaolin Temple and its vicinity corroborates the testimony of fiction, revealing that monks who have left the monastery to pursue a martial career do eat meat, all the while presenting themselves as Buddhist clerics and donning monastic robes. Finally, government documents and monastic correspondence - from the Ming and Qing periods alike - attest that some Shaolin - or Shaolin-affiliated - monks transgressed Buddhist dietary regulations. We may conclude, therefore, that throughout most - if not all - of Shaolin's history carnivorousness has been closely related to the fighting monk's ethos.
This is not to say that meat has been often consumed inside the temple. Throughout most of Shaolin's history, carnivorous monks have resided around the monastery - in traditional subsidiary-shrines or modern martial-art schools - and their religious transgressions have taken place outside the temple proper. Admittedly, there were also times - such as after the Cultural Revolution - when discipline was lax, and meat was eaten inside the monastery. However, for the most part it was enjoyed by wandering fighting-monks who have left the monastery to pursue an independent martial career. In this respect the fictional figure of Lu Zhishen is particularly illuminating of historical conditions. The carnivorous "Tattooed Monk," protagonist of the early-Ming novel WATER MARGIN, is ordained at a Wutai-Mountain Monastery, but abandons it for the freedom of itinerant military adventures. He is no different, therefore, from countless Shaolin-ordained fighting-monks who have been earning a living outside the monastery, consuming forbidden foods in restaurants spread from Dengfeng County to New York City.
We may note in conclusion that, whether they have received martial training or not, wandering monks have often transgressed monastic regulations. Chinese Buddhist history has known a special type of cleric who occupies the fringes of the monastic community, leading an itinerant lifestyle. Often venerated by the laity as miracle workers, such wandering monks engaged in healing, fortune- telling, and the like. Their extraordinary powers were believed to be intimately related to extraordinary behavior, for which reason perhaps they often breached monastic law, especially the dietary regulations forbidding meat and wine. Therefore, such folk thaumaturges were sometimes referred to as "crazy monks" (dian seng), "mad monks" (feng heshang) or "wild monks" (ye heshang). Beginning in the early medieval period, their hagiographies had been included in such collections as Huijiao's (497-554) BIOGRAPHIES OF EMINENT MONKS (Gaoseng zhuan), and they continued to figure in Chinese religious life all through the modern period, when they were referred to as "meat and wine monks" (jiurou heshang). One of the most famous of these eccentric saints is the Song-period Daoji (?-1209), also known as Crazy Ji (Jidian), who has been celebrated posthumously in an enormous body of fiction and drama, becoming one of the most beloved deities in the pantheon of Chinese popular religion.
About Dr. Meir Shahar:
Dr. Meir Shahar teaches Chinese history at Tel Aviv University. He is currently completing a history the Shaolin Temple, titled: THE SHAOLIN MONASTERY: HISTORY, RELIGION, AND THE CHINESE MARTIAL ARTS.