Pu Songling (simplified Chinese: 蒲松龄; traditional Chinese: 蒲松齡; pinyin: Pú Sōnglíng; Wade–Giles: P'u Sung-ling, June 5, 1640—February 25, 1715) was a Qing Dynasty Chinese writer, best known as the author of Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio.
Pu was born into a poor landlord-merchant family from Zichuan (淄川, now Zibo, Shandong). At the age of nineteen, he received the gongsheng degree in the civil service examination, but it was not until he was seventy-one that he received the xiucai degree.
He spent most of his life working as a private tutor, and collecting the stories that were later published in Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio. Some critics attribute the Vernacular Chinese novel Xingshi Yinyuan Zhuan to him.
The 2 volume translation by Giles is exceedingly good, I would even say superior to the 500-page Penguin classics selection (Mitford: Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio). If you are made of money you could try the complete 7-volume edition of Pu Songling (Strange Tales from Liaozhai), which includes 500 stories. For the thrifty among us, this free ebook, via Project Gutenberg, should be more than sufficient to give you a taste of early Chinese folkloric storytelling. Many of the legends associated with these tales have appeared in Feng Meng Long and elsewhere, but it is difficult to express the sheer delight of immersing yourself in Songling's artful compilations. He is, among other accolades, a master of the ghost story to rival M. R. James, and an early pioneer of anthology writing. He lived around the time of Shakespeare, when China was (comparatively) in the midst of a literary Renaissance. A recurrent figure in his work is the failed civil service examee. These trials were a way of instituting class strictures during the Qing dynasty. This pseudo main character could stand in for the author himself. For those of you familiar with Golden Lotus and Dream of the Red Chamber, you will find a stark contrast in the work of Songling. Whereas those immense works are stitched together with systematic, novelistic plot, these whimsical stories are vivid dreamscapes of picturesque and grotesque China. Interestingly, China is portrayed as a microcosm for the world in my view, as if the nation's borders encompassed the Earth. In Pu Songling, China is humanity, as it is the entire world.
These hundred or so masterful and bizarre tales feature mythological beasts, tricksters galore, and the pervading obsession with wealth and status which has plagued humanity for millennia. The perfect example of a timeless author, Pu Songling's influence can be seen in Akutagawa's artful renditions of "The Wine Worm" and several other brilliant adaptations. Kafka considered him a paramour.
Like Feng Meng Long, Pu Songling was more of a compiler of vernacular street-corner stories than a writer, though it is hard to imagine that he did not embellish the tales himself, given their immaculate consistency. More varied in content than the great short works of Chekhov, Maupassant, and Maugham, the Tales provide the same commentary on their era while incorporating universal themes.
In the apocryphal (doubtful) novel The Bonds Of Matrimony = Xingshi Yinyuan Zhuan, the recurrent motifs are given domestic context, become subdued and subvert the traditional national dramatic conventions. If only this 5-volume novel were available in English in total, instead of the 1/5 thesis translation by Edwin Mellen Press, now incredibly rare.
I encourage you to be swept away by this storyteller. The value of his work, in my opinion, outweighs The Arabian Nights Entertainments.
There was a certain man, everyone thought was silly, because he kept bumping his head and falling down, then one day he met a beautiful woman, whom he held in high esteem, until she confessed to him: "sir, I am no woman, but a fox." Upon heating this, the silly man says "Ay Carumba!" and slips on a banana peel and bumps his head, the fox woman giggles at his silliness.
I think these stories are mostly or entirely made up by men, and not supernatural. They're most likely real stories that have been very heavily embellished over time.