
This New Year, Try Treating Snakes With Respect, Not Fear
Although often called “little dragons” — a reference to their role as inspiration for the Chinese loong, or dragon — snakes tend to command far less reverence in Chinese art and culture. Sometimes depicted as a force for good, sometimes as an evil omen, these reptiles evoke conflicted feelings: from fear and avoidance to admiration and even appreciation.
Thousands of years ago, snakes were such a ubiquitous problem in Chinese homes and fields that people would greet each other by asking, “See any snakes?” That caution is reflected in art from the late Neolithic (c. 3500–2000 BC), when snake motifs began appearing on pottery in both southern and northern China. Not long after, snakes began appearing on bronzes and jades. Some are depicted alone, while others are entwined into the abstract, reiterative “coiled hui snake” pattern. Inscriptions from oracle bones produced during the Shang dynasty (c. 1600–1046 BC) include an intricate character for “snake” that reflects humans’ close contact and observation of the animal, including a triangular head, patterns across its body, and a curled tail.
Rather than blindly avoiding them, fear led the ancient Chinese to study snakes. They saw how snakes thrived and reproduced. The reptiles’ seeming rebirth after shedding their skin, as well as their ability to travel freely across land, water, and air without legs or wings, lent them an air of the divine. Soon, Chinese began seeking to control or worship snakes in an effort to appropriate their divine powers for themselves.
The state of Chu, which flourished in the middle and lower reaches of the Yangtze River during the Warring States period (475–221 BC), saw snakes as the embodiment of disaster and death. Chu lacquerware thus often depicted them being trampled by birds, or else being held in their beaks. The phoenix was the most sacred and powerful animal in Chu culture, and the motif of the mythical bird’s conquest over the snake reflects the Chu people’s desire to dominate the snake and control its power.
In the Dian Kingdom, which ruled much of today’s Yunnan province from the 5th century BC to the 1st century AD, snakes had a very different image. Dian people not only honored snakes as the gods of land and water; they also prized them for their supposed vitality and reproductive ability. Bronzeware unearthed in the area features copious highly realistic snake-related designs and decorations. Serpentine imagery was also cast onto various weapons, turning them into a kind of guardian deity.
One example was the spear-like cha, a weapon unique to the Dian. The bottom of the weapon features a relief of a snake’s head, while the two prongs at the top resemble its tongue. By replicating the look of a snake, the ancient Dian people transformed the ferocity of those poisonous reptiles into deadly weapons.
Snakes also played an important role in Chinese mythology, most classically in the tale of Fuxi and Nüwa, the coupled deities who created the universe and humankind. Their likenesses — snake-like bodies with human heads — can be found in numerous tombs and on ceremonial towers from the Han dynasty (206 BC–AD 220), in which the pair are shown holding either the sun and moon or a try square and a compass. The former signified their rule over Heaven and Earth, the latter the laws of the world, while their intertwined tails represented the cultivation of life.
Other mythological figures are shown as carrying or stepping on snakes when they soar through the heavens. These figures may have been inspired by ancient tribal leaders who used snakes in sacred rituals to facilitate communication with the heavens.
This period, in which many Chinese believed humans to be the offspring of the snake, marked the height of the snake’s status in the history of Chinese art — and the closest ties between man and reptile. The status of snakes in Chinese cosmology soon began to decline, however, especially during the Tang dynasty (618–907), which saw the rise of dragon motifs in art.
As Buddhism grew more popular, people no longer worshipped snakes, but instead sought to subdue them through the power of religion. According to historical records, when a huge snake was reported in the central city of Luoyang, a monk from the empire’s western borderlands claimed that it would herald a catastrophic flood, so he killed it by reciting incantations for days on end. Snakes were often portrayed as vicious, cunning monsters in folklore, with one widely circulated story telling of a white snake that transformed itself into a beautiful woman to bewitch and harm people.
A new spin on that legend began to emerge during the Ming dynasty (1368–1644). White Snake, still masquerading as a beautiful woman, meets the educated Xu Xian on a lake, and the two fall in love. Together they practice medicine and help save people’s lives, only to be challenged by the monk Fahai. In response, White Snake casts a spell to flood the temple and save her beloved.
Although the story offers a more positive depiction of the snake than earlier versions, the outcome remains the same: The snake is ultimately defeated by the monks and trapped underneath a pagoda. Nevertheless, the popularity of the tale helped recast the snake in the public imagination, going from a monster to a gentle, kindhearted woman. People so adored Lady White Snake that her story was brought to the stage, turned into songs, and featured in everyday objects and crafts. To this day, people still celebrate the snake as a symbol of free love and the spirit of resistance.
Translator: Katherine Tse; editor: Wu Haiyun; portrait artist: Wang Zhenhao.
(Header image: Tang-era paintings of Fuxi and Nüwa unearthed in Turpan on display in Beijing, 2019. VCG)