The Kosher Guide to Imaginary Animals Read online

  THE KOSHER GUIDE TO

  IMAGINARY ANIMALS

  (The Evil Monkey Dialogues)

  Ann & Jeff VanderMeer

  Cheeky Frawg Books

  Tallahassee, Florida

  Copyright © 2010 by Ann & Jeff VanderMeer

  Foreword © 2010 by Joseph Nigg

  “Introduction: Jews and Food, Real and Imaginary” copyright © 2010 by Ann VanderMeer

  “Duff Goldman in Conversation, Or, How to Cook a Mongolian Death Worm” copyright © 2010 by Ann VanderMeer and Duff Goldman

  Interior design and composition copyright © 2010 by John Coulthart

  Cheeky Frawg logo copyright 2011 by Jeremy Zerfoss.

  “Pollo Maligno” illustration copyright © 2010 by Ian Miller

  Ebook design by Neil Clarke

  Originally published in hardcover by Tachyon Publications, 2010

  www.tachyonpublications.com

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced by any means, mechanical, electronic, or otherwise, without first obtaining the permission of the copyright holder.

  Check out the full line of Cheeky Frawg Books at:

  www.cheekyfrawg.com

  For Jacob and Rina Weisman, Jill Roberts & the Lord of Imaginary Kosher Animals, Felix Gilman

  Table of Contents

  Foreword by Joseph Nigg

  Introduction: Jews and Food, Real and Imaginary by Ann VanderMeer

  Abumi-Guchi

  Aigi Kampos

  Aitvaras

  Akaname

  Arkan Sonney

  Baku

  Banshee

  Behemoth

  Borges

  Camahueto

  Chupacabra

  Cornish Owlman

  Dragon

  Encantado

  E.T. (Extra-terrestrial)

  Headless Mule

  Jackalope

  Jaud

  Jotai

  Leviathan

  Manticore

  Mermaid

  Mongolian Death Worm

  Ouroboros

  Phoenix

  Pollo Maligno

  Pope Lick Monster

  Sasquatch (aka Bigfoot)

  Sea-Monkeys®

  Shedim

  Tachash

  Tokoloshe

  Vegetable Lamb of Tartary

  Ziz

  Duff Goldman in Conversation with Ann VanderMeer

  Author and Designer Notes

  Other Contributors

  Foreword

  Joseph Nigg

  Joseph (Joe) Nigg has followed imaginary animals ever since he became intrigued by a Lion of the Sea on an antique lamp thirty years ago. His many award-winning books explore the millennia-long cultural histories of fabulous beasts. Lavishly-illustrated and beloved by readers of all ages, his treasuries include The Book of Gryphons, A Guide to Imaginary Birds of the World, and his recent international bestseller, How to Raise and Keep a Dragon, which has been translated into more than twenty languages. Nigg is currently at work on a fantastical history of the immortal Phoenix.

  Years ago, a friend who knew I was writing about mythical beasts said he had come up with a riddle for me. “What did the pony say to the unicorn?” he asked. I couldn’t guess. “What’s the point?” he said, pleased with himself.

  I’ve wondered about that animal distinction ever since.

  There was a television commercial in which Noah was leading the animals onto the Ark. Among the pairs with long rubbery noses, elongated necks, antlers, and other fantastic forms was a small white horse with a single straight horn protruding from its forehead. Of course, I — and probably every other viewer, regardless of age — immediately fixated on the unicorn.

  Why are we so intrigued by imaginary animals? Nature, in all her bounty, has created fauna of every imaginable (and unimaginable) size, shape, color, and behavior. There are an estimated ten million species of beetles alone. Our imagined creatures are really paltry in comparison — and even then, our beasts-that-never-were are derived from those of the actual animal kingdom. But our hybrids are our own, shaped by our imagination out of fears, hopes, wonder, and sheer joy of creation.

  The bizarre animals in this book are descendants of phantasmagorical creatures that crawled out of the ocean of oral-story millennia ago. The beasts of myth were succeeded by a host of newcomers in tales of travelers returning from Ethiopia, Egypt, Persia, and India. Classical historians, geographers, and natural history authors recorded those accounts, describing the marvels of remote lands in terms of animals that a stay-at-home public would immediately recognize.

  Such a technique makes actual creatures seem just as fantastic as imaginary ones. Pliny’s leucrocota, “the swiftest of wild beasts,” is a case in point. It is “about the size of an ass, with a stag’s haunches, a lion’s neck, tail and breast, badger’s head, cloven hoof, mouth opening right back to the ears, and ridges of bone in place of rows of teeth.” It is said to imitate the human voice. What animal is being described? Probably a hyena. (Pliny’s Roman audience would have seen lions at the Coliseum.)

  Authors copied each other down the centuries, disseminating what they regarded as knowledge of the world. Christian scribes drew on the Physiologus collection of animal lore and on classical authorities to compile the medieval bestiaries. Their religious allegories often repeated travelers’ composite descriptions of animals. These books of beasts made no distinction between actual and fabulous creatures.

  The rise of modern science in the seventeenth century changed all that. Rationalists questioning ancient and medieval authority asked if anyone had ever actually seen a griffin, phoenix, fire-breathing dragon, manticore, or giant ant. Nobody had. Such monsters were denounced as embarrassing fabrications and tossed onto the garbage heap of superstition.

  After more than a century of being “enlightened,” people hungered for a rebirth of the imagination. Romanticism did the trick, and, slowly at first, imaginary animals returned — on the other side of belief. We needed them. They’re now everywhere: in children’s books, manga, fantasy novels, movies, video games; on T-shirts, belt buckles, tattooed flesh. You name it. They’re there.

  Which brings us to The Kosher Guide and some of the wildest, most eccentric imaginary animals ever. There’s the abumi-guchi, whose mouth is formed from an old stirrup. And the Cornish Owlman, which is “very delicate and will dissolve into a weather pattern or a spray of dandelion seeds at the slightest suggestion of disbelief.” And all the other hilarious oddities beyond Borges and the bestiaries.*

  What’s the point of The Kosher Guide to Imaginary Animals? This beastly book — derived from, but careening beyond, traditional lore — is great fantasy fun.

  *Being a pedantic independent scholar, I can’t resist mentioning that the most famous tale of someone wanting to eat an imaginary animal concerns the profligate Roman emperor Heliogabalus. He wanted to consume the immortal phoenix so that he, too, would become immortal. His envoys brought him an exotic bird from a distant land. He ingested it. But he was murdered shortly thereafter, leading people to conclude that he had eaten a mortal bird instead — perhaps a phoenicopter (flamingo) or a Bird of Paradise.

  Introduction: Jews and Food, Real and Imaginary

  Ann VanderMeer

  Two years ago, my husband and I were taking a hike in the woods. I don’t know how it came up, but at some point we started talking about the “kosherness” of certain animals. With Passover fast approaching, what you can and cannot eat was on my mind. The subject led to the silliness of trying to figure out what imaginary animals might be kosher. As we bantered back and forth, we decided that we were
having too much fun, which meant it might be fun for our readers, too. So we did a blog post in honor of Passover.

  Jeff gathered up a list of imaginary animals. “Evil Monkey,” Jeff’s blogging alter ego, and I debated the qualities and virtues of each one. (I was armed with several texts, including the Etz Hayim.) Then we put the results online, and before we knew it, word had spread — and spread! Not only was the blog post picked up by the pop culture sites Boing Boing and Jewcy, but people all over the world were linking to it — and talking about it. Debates over our “discussions” blossomed on other blogs. The original post generated hundreds of comments and the links generated even more. Swedish National Public Radio even did a story on it. (We couldn’t understand a word of it, but there was a photo of a Wookiee from Star Wars — are they kosher?). Soon, we were approached by Tachyon Publications to do a book — in part to celebrate their fifteenth year of publication — and we said why not? Stranger things have happened, but we couldn’t have imagined when we were talking on our hike that a book would result from our original discussion!

  However, one thing you can be sure of: Rules about food have plagued the Jews ever since G-d gave us manna. Even that had rules — only take enough for your family (don’t be a greedy-guts). Eat it all because if you save any it will be rotten and maggoty the next day. Of course, the Jews had to try it and it was all rotten and maggoty, teaching us to trust that G-d will provide fresh manna each day.

  Then there was the bitching the Jews did in the desert when they got tired of eating manna from heaven every single day. And after all their bitching (which, by the way, they do a lot; poor, poor Moses), Moses pleads with G-d to provide something different. And G-d, having the kind of sense of humor that came up with a creature like the platypus, decides to shower the Jews with tons and tons of meat — until they are drowning in it.

  Jews and food, food and Jews. We have food-related traditions with just about every single holiday. Passover? Here, eat some stale crackers that we call matzah. Hanukkah? Potato pancakes and chocolate coins. Purim? Let’s have some yummy hamentaschen pastry. Rosh Hashanah? Round challah, and maybe a fish head (don’t ask!). Even with Yom Kippur, food figures into it because there’s a lack of food. The infamous Jewish Mother is always trying to get her children to eat.

  We also have a promise of the most amazing feast of food in the afterlife (or as some call it: The World to Come, Ha’Olam Habah). At this time G-d will provide a banquet consisting of Leviathan, Behemoth, and Ziz: three creatures created just for this purpose (or so we are told). Leviathan is the king over all sea animals, Behemoth over the land, and Ziz over the sky. So we have meat, seafood, and fowl to look forward to, not to mention all kinds of vegetables. . .but I am getting ahead of myself.

  Who else but Jews would have a T-shirt that says: “CHOLENT — It keeps you going and going and going.” (If you don’t know what cholent is, look it up, kiddies!)

  So, with all of that tradition, why not a kosher guide for imaginary animals? Who knows? You might get caught up in some kind of weird fantasy world where you are faced with mothmen and unicorns.

  And you will need to know.

  Abumi-Guchi

  Taken from Japanese folklore, the abumi-guchi is a type of tsukumogami or “animated object.” Specifically, the abumi-guchi is a furry creature formed from the stirrup of a mounted military commander, typically a fallen soldier. The old stirrup forms its mouth and the rope from the saddle forms its limbs. For all eternity this creature waits patiently for the fallen soldier from whence it sprang. Alas, the soldier never returns. There is nothing written about what the abumi-guchi does to pass the time or what it thinks about as it waits. As the abumi-guchi cannot write, there are no existing memoirs. Presumably, though, its thoughts are stirrupy and leather-tough.

  Ann [with look of disbelief]: “From a stirrup?”

  EVIL MONKEY: “Stranger things have happened.”

  ANN: “Not much stranger!”

  EVIL MONKEY: “It is defiantly ugly, that’s for sure.”

  ANN: “Do they chew their prey?”

  EVIL MONKEY: “I think so.”

  ANN: “Then no. Besides, the provenance is suspect.”

  EVIL MONKEY: “A lot of things are suspect.”

  ANN: “That doesn’t mean you eat them.”

  Aigi Kampos

  The name of the aigi kampos comes from the Greek and literally means fish goat. The “sea-goat” is a version of the hippocamp (the fish-tailed horse) but has a plainer heritage than the hippocamp. The god Poseidon rode a chariot pulled by four hippocamps, not four sea-goats. Still, amongst all of the fish-tailed creatures — the fish-tailed lion, bull, leopard, and horse — only the aigi kampos received its own constellation and astrological sign (Capricorn). Although rarely seen, the aigi kampos is generally understood to live in the Indian Ocean. After liberal applications of palm wine, pirates in speedboats have often reported seeing the aigi kampos.

  EVIL MONKEY: “Can you get cheese from this thing?”

  ANN: “Would you want to?”

  EVIL MONKEY: “Heck yes! Cheese is good no matter what the source.”

  ANN: “I don’t think that’s true.”

  EVIL MONKEY: “But is it kosher?”

  ANN: “It’s a kind of hippocamp, which generally aren’t kosher — the fish-tailed part is good, the horse-part, not so much.”

  EVIL MONKEY: “But in this case the horse has been replaced with bull!”

  ANN: “That’s true, so, yes, that would be kosher, because it has cloven hoofs, chews its cud, and has fins and scales.”

  EVIL MONKEY: “Well, then, answer me this — why is it that the reasons it’s kosher have to do with the gross icky bits you wouldn’t ever eat?”

  ANN: “Why don’t you ask G-d and see how that works out for you?”

  Aitvaras

  Of Lithuanian origin, the aitvaras resembles a rooster, either black or white, with a long fiery-looking tail. Beware the aitvaras, for it is a tricky beast. Once it joins your household, it will bring both good and bad luck. Although it looks like a rooster when inside your house, it becomes a dragon outside your house. Once it finds a place to live, it never leaves; indeed, while you find it personable when inside your house, you may find it unreasonable outside. You may even find that you have no inside left to your house once your aitvaras is outside of it. Therefore, take especial care in your identification of roosters; as with picking mushrooms, one slip-up may be costly.

  EVIL MONKEY: “If it resembles a rooster while indoors, does that mean its innards also resemble those of a rooster?”

  ANN: “Innards are innards. Stomach. Lungs. Intestines.”

  EVIL MONKEY: “Is it possible it has the appearance of a rooster and of a dragon, but its innards are made of custard?”

  ANN: “Anything’s possible, moron, including a talking monkey.”

  EVIL MONKEY: “It’s only kosher inside the house, right?”

  ANN: “Right. Fire lizards need not apply to Club Kosher.”

  EVIL MONKEY: “What if you kill and eat this thing in the doorway, neither inside nor outside?”

  ANN: “What if we put you in the doorway and slam the door? Would that be kosher?”

  EVIL MONKEY: “No, that would just be mean.”

  Akaname

  From Japanese folklore, this yokai or “supernatural creature” shares characteristics of both frogs and people. A hopper of sorts but with human limbs, the akaname has a ridiculously long tongue. Also called a “mud-licker” or “filth-licker,” it hides in bathrooms and likes to clean around the tub and toilet with its long tongue. No one knows whether this reflects its Homo sapiens or amphibian nature. Although benign (unlike some manifestations of the aitvaras), the akaname, as one might expect, suffers from extremely suspect hygiene. You may invite it into your house to feast on scum, mold, and fungus so long as you have a strong stomach. However, even if your culture has the custom of shaking hands or kisses on the cheek as a common greeting.
. .you may wish to refrain, even if it seems impolite.

  ANN: “I think this one is obvious.”

  EVIL MONKEY: “Why? Because it’s an amphibian?”

  ANN: “Because even if it were kosher, who would want to eat it? It licks bathrooms.”

  EVIL MONKEY: “So anything in a bathroom isn’t kosher?”

  ANN: “Anything that licks anything disgusting isn’t kosher.”

  EVIL MONKEY: “Then our cats are definitely not kosher.”

  Arkan Sonney

  Said to originate on the Isle of Man, the arkan sonney is sometimes called “lucky piggy” or “fairy hedgehog.” White with red ears, the arkan sonney is a fey creature that resembles a long-haired porker. This creature can grow suddenly larger or smaller — a talent that makes the arkan sonney difficult to catch and has led to many injuries amongst its pursuers over the centuries. Still, you might consider pursuing an arkan sonney should you see one, since they give good luck if caught. This “luck” derives largely from the high price world governments have put on live capture, due to the creature’s matter displacement defense mechanism. Whatever you do, never touch the arkan sonney while it’s changing size; your hand will never be the same, or even where you left it.

  EVIL MONKEY: “What a saucy little complex critter. Who would’ve thought? Surely it’s kosher?”

  ANN: “No, because hedgehogs aren’t kosher, so a fairy hedgehog wouldn’t be any different, monkey.”

  EVIL MONKEY: “But have you ever tried one? They’re delicious! Especially baked. They’re small but immensely filling once in your stomach. Like pot-stickers.”

  ANN: “Um, even so.”

  Baku

  From Japanese folklore (and more recently, movies, anime, and manga), the baku is often described as a type of “dream-devouring tapir” but has an elephant’s head, trunk, and tusks along with the body and claws of a tiger. In color, it ranges from black to pink. The baku eats the dreams and nightmares of nearby people. Because of this, many wear a baku-amulet for protection against nightmares, not realizing the consequences of calling upon the baku. For the baku does not discriminate between nightmares and dreams, and a man or woman without dreams is like a ship without an anchor. What the baku does with the dream-matter is unclear, but experts speculate that it, like many spirits, has no dreams of its own. Therefore, the baku may sell what it harvests to other supernatural beings but keep the most choice “cuts” for itself.