Video Games and Myth: Suikoden Preview

Gentle readers, it gives me great pleasure to finally present another installment of Video Games and Myth. Sadly, however, my original plan for this issue was to cover the PSP's Jeanne d'Arc - a loose interpretation of the events surrounding my favorite female historical figure. Alas, I found to my dismay that, after purchasing the game from the PlayStation Network, PS3's apparently are not fitted with emulators to run downloadable PSP titles. As I refuse to vomit up an additional $150 simply to play this one game, I have moved on to warm-up for this summer's major project for Video Games and Myth - PlayStation's fantasy-epic/RPG Suikoden.

Suikoden is loosely based on one of the Four Great Chinese Classics, this one titled Water Margin (aka Outlaws of the Marsh) supposedly by Shi Naian (or, depending on who you talk to, Lou Guanzhong). Written in the 14th Century, the great 2,141 page novel covers the fictional events where over one hundred men and women are forced by the Feudal Lords of the Song Dynasty to take to the hills - only to band together and crush every conceivable attempt by their government to oppress them. The relationship between Water Margin and Japan is interesting due to Japan's attempts to seemingly naturalize and integrate this tale as its own. By translating the game title from Japanese, Suikoden literally means "Water Margin," an obvious derivative of the Japanese translation from the 1700's. Over the years since the Japanese translation, references, re-translations, and even attempts to portray the characters from Water Margin as Japanese have popped up in festivals, tattoo art, and present day anime. It will be interesting to see whether the differences between the original tale and the game developed by Konami present further evidence of this possible trend (that and it just sounds like a very cool story).

 

I am excited to embrace the challenge Suikoden presents, primarily because I am unfamiliar with either the Water Margin novel or Suikoden the game. In fact, I am fairly foreign to most myths/legends with roots not in the Americas or Europe. Part of my motivation for creating Video Games and Myth stemmed from my desire to explore myths and legends from cultures to which I have minimal exposure. Water Margin seems like a great place to jump into some classic Chinese tales and Suikoden itself seems oddly up my alley to not have heard about it before. Either way, I am incredibly stoked to begin this journey and to see where it leads. Between reading the novel and playing the game, I hope to have it all done by mid-June. As always, feel free to comment or make requests below in the mean time.

Video Games and Myth: Don't Look Back

Stripping video games to their bare essentials, programmer Terry Cavanagh presents Don't Look Back - a pixelated platformer reminiscent of old school Atari (and other similar platforming systems). In his recently released project, Cavanagh uses flash animation - a reasonably affordable alternative for independent artists to animate, voice, and distribute their work directly to the consumer on the internet. Flash has been the up-and-coming animation form for game programers and visual artists alike for years, used in everything from talk show intros to "office time-wasters" to Adult Swim cartoons like Metalocalypse. Using this contemporary medium, Cavanagh dives into "the Classics" by retelling the Greek tale of Orpheus in his return to "classic" gaming. (For those interested, the game is free and can be played without download here)

Don't Look Back begins as seen above, with a man standing in the rain at the grave of (what can be assumed is) a recently lost lover. Of course, our protagonist has no choice, but to turn right and travel into the bowels of the Underworld in an attempt to bring her back. By doing so, our nameless hero must run, jump, and shoot through a barrage of 8-bit monsters, vanishing bridges, and other hazards to achieve his goal. Already, the player can see some obvious parallels with the famed Greek myth. 

In the tale, Orpheus was a musician who was happily married to the beautiful Eurydice until, one fateful day, she was bitten by a poisonous snake and she died. Distraught and torn, Orpheus began to play and sing a grouping of the most beautiful, yet sad songs ever heard. So mournful were they that the immortal nymphs and gods all wept without reservation. On their recommendation, they bid Orpheus to the Underworld in hopes that Hades and Persephone would be so moved by his music as to take pity on Orpheus and return his love to him - neither of which had anyone ever succeeded. On his arrival, Orpheus played and sang for Hades and Persephone his sad songs and, in their tears, they allowed Orpheus an exception with a condition: that on his walk out and up from the Underworld he must always face forward and have faith that Eurydice is right behind him until they both return to the world of the living. Orpheus ascends without turning around, but as soon as he exits he turns only to see Eurydice vanish from him forever, as he had not afforded her the time (and faith) to step into the living world herself. Careful analysis of Cavanagh's gaming platform reveals some striking parallels (with artistic liberties).

Although the hero from Don't Look Back is not a musician, it is notable that once he begins his decent that the music begins to play. The midi classical string-orchestra presents a melancholic tone accentuated by a color scheme of mellow, dark browns. By doing so, the game is able to evoke an impressive emotional response despite its simplistic design. Here, Cavanagh proves he has an eye for detail, even including the occasional Greek pillar in the background as a "salute" to his source material. The hero continues to descend through the Underworld, able to leap down cliffs with ease (the rules in the Underworld are a little different), battling it out with the various inhabitants, until he reaches a cliff where his love rests as a spirit, floating above the abyss - waiting. He turns around and she begins to follow him out, facing new obstacles as they climb their way up. Keeping with the myth the player must not turn around, else his love will vanish and he will have to start the screen over as if he had just died. Eventually, the hero makes his way outside, into the rain, and back into the living world. In surreal fashion, the hero returns to the grave, lover in toe, only to see himself standing over the tombstone again, alone, as the vestiges of the self and the lover that have just returned vanish forever. The player is left to wonder whether the hero ever left at all, whether he is caught in an eternal loop, or whether the person he sees when he returns is really someone else. In so doing, we are left to wonder which facets of the phrase "don't look back" apply, as there seem to be several. It is rare when something so simplistic retains such poignancy.

Orpheus was the classic tale about the relationship between loss and faith. Of grief and closure. These themes become more and more relatable as people mature and grow older and have the life experiences that encompass them. Whether they have died or not, most of us will lose someone who we would do anything to have back, but understand we cannot. Cavanagh uses his art form to explore these themes through classic myth and does it successfully by using the bare essentials of classic gaming.

Video Games and Myth: The Legend of Zelda - Ocarina of Time and Twilight Princess

A chosen hero to beat back the tides of darkness. A courageous knight who rises to rebuild a kingdom. The Legend of Zelda series tells the tales of young Link, a boy literally marked by destiny. Within each story lies ample evidence of myth, from the naming of Link's horse "Epona" (Gaulish word for "Sacred Horse and a Celtic Deity) to Link's recent transformation into a wolf (canines are seen as guardians of the underworld in many cultures). Given the series' title, however, it's not surprising that a great deal of the games' source material would come from popular legends - namely Arthurian Romances. Installments A Link to the Past, The Ocarina of Time, and The Twilight Princess provide strong evidences of the use of these beloved legends.

1. A Sword in the Stone

Perhaps one of the most popular Arthurian tales, the Sword in the Stone tells how Arthur comes to learn of his lineage. A sword only  released by the hand of the one true king. Arthur happens upon the sword almost haphazardly, removing the sword at a whim, taking a significant step toward his destiny of unifying England and purging it of corruption. Whether the sword represents

 Excalibur is a matter of debate, as popular criticism recognizes that the actual Excalibur was given to Arthur by the Lady in the Lake. However, The Legend of Zelda pays homage to either theory by unifying them into a single symbol - The Master Sword.

The Master Sword rests within its own pedestal, awaiting the arrival of the chosen hero to release it from its earthen bond. As the Sword in the Stone, the Master Sword represents a mile-stone in Link's journey towards manhood and guardianship. Like Excalibur, it's Link's primary weapon against evil, being the bane of darkness and the only weapon able to effectively wound primary antagonist Ganondorf (or Ganon, if you prefer). Link obtains the Master Sword at the turning point in his journey - either just before or just after the world is enveloped by darkness. Releasing the Master Sword from its pedestal often serves to reaffirm Link's chosen destiny during this time. And, much like Arthur's Excalibur, Link would never be able to beat back the black without it.

2. The Otherworld

A critical element of the Arthurian Romances is the presence of the Otherworld, a realm at the very edge of our own.  To enter, often times the hero must pass through a forest away from typical human civilization. As one slips deeper and deeper into Otherworld, the natural rules of the universe slowly begin to change. The magic there is very obscure, often resulting in what appears to be psychological tricks or hallucinations, putting the hero at a distinct disadvantage over local residents. The Legend of Zelda employs its own dualistic world in nearly every installment.

Be it the Dark World, the Twilight Realm, or simply a timeline seven years in the future, an Otherworld is just as present here as it is in Arthurian Romance. Although there are plenty of examples, the Ocarina of Time provides some of the strongest evidence. The "Otherworld" 

is featured by a future timeline, accessible only after pulling out the Master Sword from its pedestal. Link is essentially "Rip van Winkled," falling asleep until he's of age to properly use the sword. In the new world, Ganondorf has succeeded in usurping the throne and the kingdom's races are either forced into hiding, captured, or frozen forever. Link's goal is to put the pieces back together, often traveling back to the present to change the grim future ahead. Link is forced to deal with the suddenness of adulthood and the effects of a seven-year tyrannical rule he could potentially prevent. It's notable that at the game's end, Link is sent back before the game's events and Ganondorf is effectively stopped by Zelda (Princess of Hyrule) before the grim future can occur - making the future timeline not just gone, but seemingly illusory, and memorable only to Link and Zelda.

3. Ganon the Boar

Boar imagery is very subtle in Arthurian Romances, but it's there all the same. Boars are often associated with Arthur and his line, particularly to highlight the link between himself and Mordred, who seeks to usurp the throne. Malory highlights this particular concept when Mordred is speared by Arthur, but continues to charge forward in a boar-like rage, killing him. This element manifests in Ganon's appearance on the right. 

Designers have historically presented Ganondorf as a powerful wizard interested in usurping the throne and bending the world to his will. Immediately, one should think about Mordred and his sinister aspirations. However, Lancelot's King Maleagant (a King in the Otherworld) seems present as well. Note Ganondorf's affinity for magic and kidnapping Princess Zelda - both common motifs repeated in Arthurian Romance with Maleagant's abduction of Guinevere. Conjoined with his transformation into the boar "Ganon" at endgame (often right before he dies), players can easily conclude that Ganondorf represents another artful fusion of Arthurian motifs. This assertion can be immediately strenghtened by the fact that Maleagant's influence in the legends diminshes as Mordred became a more prominent character. Conveniently, this draws the inevitable comparison between Link and Lancelot, as opposed to Arthur.

4. Link du Lac (a.k.a. "Link gets Ladies")

Lancelot was first introduced as a primary protagonist in Chrétien de Troyes's Lancelot the Knight in the Cart, depicting the valiant knight's attempt to rescue Queen Guinevere from Otherworld-King Maleagant's abduction. The famous romance begins during this story, as Lancelot charges head first in pursuit of the object of his courtly affections. What's noteable about Lancelot are his origins (he's originally from the Otherworld), his representation as the (near comic) epitome of chivalric love, and that Lancelot is told in installments of each maiden he's come across on his journey. Link's adventures share some striking similarities to Lancelot's tale.

Note that Link's journey begins in the forest within both installments Ocarina of

 Time and Twilight Princess - a place we've already established to denote "otherworldliness." Link leaving the forest for the rest of the world is usually portrayed as a big deal, marking the start of a momentous journey to fulfill a duty of sorts. This is usually followed by some interaction with Princess Zelda which leads to Link somehow becoming her "personal knight." Although the love between Lancelot and Guinevere is often (but not always) explicit, Link and Zelda's relationship remains up to debate. Depending on which tradition of courtly love you're following, this could still fit the model - particularly since romantic undertones between the couple are usually present. However, the strongest evidence comes from the number of "maidens" Link comes across. Above is a picture of most of the women from the Legend of Zelda series, most of whom have a significant role in Ocarina of Time. Not to mention, of course, the main similarity - their apparent sexual attraction to the protagonist. Link, like Lancelot, has to deal with the droves of women who just want a piece. Some comical, some tragic, each marks a necessary spot in their respective hero's journeys.

The final scene in Twilight Princess portrays the most iconic Lancelot reference in the Legend of Zelda series. In Lancelot, our hero is released from a prison by a woman riding an animal (one of my favorite characters in Arthurian Legend) and proceeds on horseback to chase down Maleagant once and for all. Lancelot finds Maleagant in a field and, after a short sword fight, Lancelot decapitates the Evil King with ease and rides away with Guinevere in tow. Although Link isn't released from a prison by a woman per se, he requires feminine aid (i.e. Zelda and her light arrows) to help him chase down and stop Ganondorf in the game's final minutes. In epic stride, Link and Zelda succeed, and Link is forced to fight Ganondorf in an ultimate battle to the death. Ganondorf and Link undergo a sword fight in a field, surrounded by fire, until Link beats him down and stabs him through the heart. Although not a complete copy, the themes are definitely present to recognize Link as a distinct Lancelot reference.

(property of Emmanuel Diaz)

Arthurian Romances are everywhere. Arthur and his representations often arise during times when a nation needs a hero. A leader to help rebuild or a knight to lead by example. Lancelot represented the ultimate knight with a solitary chink in his armor - his reciprocal love for his best friend's wife. A love (at least in Malory's works) heavily implied that Arthur knew about. I'm curious if that will ever be worked into the series. A penitent Link would be, at the very least, interesting and different. Well, Gentle Reader, I hope you enjoyed this epic installment. It'll probably be the last one for a long, long time. As always, feel free to post below.

Video Games and Myth: Final Fantasy VII

Perhaps one of the more overlooked forms of entertainment, video games have been clamoring for artistic attention. Many video game designers seek to employ compelling story lines centered around enriched, three-dimensional characters and have moved past simply creating immersive, interactive environments. In the course of composing these enthralling stories, video game designers follow the tradition from other mediums by looking to the past for tales that have stood the test of time: Myth. Evidence can be found from a multitude of sources (including Blizzard's online juggernaut World of Warcraft), but for me, a prime example comes from a personal favorite - SquareEnix's (formerly Squaresoft) role-playing epic Final Fantasy VII.

As a turn-based RPG, Final Fantasy VII's roots rest firmly in the Dungeons and Dragon's tradition of building scenarios, heroes, and enemies out of popular myth. Although many cultures are given the equivocal "tip-of-the-fedora" through an enemy or item name, Icelandic myth seems to have a strong influence over the overall plot. FFVII is an apocalypse story - one in which the protagonists are desperately trying to prevent a seemingly inevitable cataclysm. Much like Odin and the other Icelandic Gods, each character persists on a journey for knowledge and self-discovery in hopes that their travels will provide a way to defeat the near-impossible odds stacked against them. FFVII does nothing to hide this from the consumer: naming the starting city "Midgar" (derived from "Midgard", the Earth realm where humans live which is domed over by the skull of the giant Ymir), that much of the game's back story centers around the town "Nibleheim" (derived from "Nifflehel" meaning "North Hell") which is torched to the ground, and that many of the game's big reveals, as well as the game's conclusion, take place in the northern, icy portion of the world near the town "Ragnarok" (a direct reference to the Icelandic "Day of Reckoning" of which cannot be stopped and will result in the end of the Gods' rule).  The strongest example perhaps comes from the most shocking and emotional scene in the game - The Death of Aerith.

(property of SquareEnix)

For players, this scene came as a surprise. Aerith, one of the favorite female protagonists, is brutally murdered in front of your character half-way through the game with nothing you can do to prevent it and nothing you can do to bring her back. Not only do you invest a significant amount of time and energy into her battle statistics prior to this, but the game does a fairly good job of allowing you to feel sympathetic towards her (as well as most of the other characters). For those unaware, these games used to function almost like video books where the characters acted out stage direction on the screen and provided dialogue in the text boxes. You progress through the game with the express interest in finding out what happens next and Aerith remained a significant part of the plot up until this point (the programmers even provided items assumedly for her use at the game's end, the bastards). The best textual equivalent would probably be the "Death of Dumbledore" from JK Rollings' Harry Potter series which, from what I understand, was also shocking and devastating among die-hard fans. But, the most interesting thing about the scene extends beyond the emotionality and into a comparison with the Icelandic story "The Lay of Skirnir"

"The Lay of Skirnir" is the Icelandic version of what's called "The Sacred Marriage": the tale which depicts how the "miraculous child" is conceived or how the land is engendered with prosperity and life. According to Snorri Sturluson's Edda, Freyr (meaning "fruitful one") sits on Odin's seat at the top of the world and sees something he shouldn't, the Ice-giant Jotun's daughter Gerd (meaning "Earth"), and he falls head-over-heels in love. Fearing rejection, Freyr sends Skirnir (the shining sky-god) down wingman style to "warm up" the Ice-giant's daughter for him. Skirnir takes and keeps Freyr's magical sword, which he uses to "convince" her to marry Freyr (depending on your interpretation, Gerd either consents or is coerced by Skirnir; see the Poetic Edda by Hollander). Hence, the sky-god (representing the sun) gets the Earthen woman to marry into fruitfulness thereby making the Earth fertile. In comparison with the above scene, we see a twisting of the myth into something darker. As opposed to engendering fruitfulness, Sephiroth (the primary antagonist) comes down from the sky with his "magic" sword and seeks to eliminate it. 

Within the game's mythos, Aerith was the last of a race of people able to communicate with the planet and use its energies for beneficial purposes. In an early portion of the game, Aerith is introduced when your character falls through the ceiling of an abandoned church and onto a hearty flower bed, tended to by her, and growing in soil that shouldn't be able to grow anything at all. Aerith then, in a sense, similarly represents a fertile, Earth-element and is slaughtered for it. It's notable that her death comes while she is "Praying for the Planet", a process that would summon the power to protect the planet and stop the impending doom. Also of note, her death, in effect, could even have been beneficial, since it is commonly interpreted that her conscious will or spirit lived on within the planet and was able to give the planet the second boost of power that effectively stopped the apocalypse - an interesting perspective further twisting the myth.

(Property of Nicolien Beerens)

Evidence of myth in games is far from a foreign concept and extends way beyond a game which came out over 10 years ago. As I have said, these stories  withstood the test of time and will continue to influence nearly all artistic mediums regardless of whether those cultures still exist or not. Depending on the success of this particular post, I may make future posts encroaching on this topic in other works. Either way, Gentle Readers, I hope you enjoyed this post and found it interesting. I know I did. And as always, post below.

Updated 2/4/2008: Now with pictures!