The Legend of Zelda and Philosophy_ I Link Therefore I Am - Luke Cuddy [30]
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The Hero with a Thousand Hearts: Death in Zelda
ANNA B. JANSSEN
After over a dozen official titles the Legend of Zelda franchise may be considered many things, from childish to iconic, and at times it seems a little bizarre, but rarely is it accused of being macabre. Something is amiss in the gamer psyche if they have never thought of Zelda in this way because it undeniably has a preoccupation with death.
You can see this as a comforting fact. The concept of death and mortality has fascinated philosophers and scientists alike for the better part of two millennia. It should be reassuring to know that even in something as light as The Legend of Zelda, our individual need to explore death comes through.
The dominant view in the Zelda mythos is materialist; all we are is the physical, and thus there is no afterlife. But there’s also room to explore the dualist notion of death, which holds that there’s some form of immaterial soul beyond physical stuff.
Of course, it’s through the endearing Link that the gamer interacts with the gameworld, the Kingdom of Hyrule. What’s surprising is that Link portrays the most traditionally unappealing vision of immortality—that of eternal purgatory.
A Hero in Limbo
The Zelda franchise isn’t merely preoccupied with death; it shows us the worst case scenario: the meaningless life. As philosopher Georg Hegel believed, man has to realize the idea of death, come to terms with it. By reconciling himself with his own mortality a man enables himself to pass on to a better place after his life is over. In the Hegelian world view Link is in the least desirable position available: realizing death but being perpetually ‘reborn’ as himself in order to fulfil the players’ needs. Imagine for a moment a Zelda game in which Link is allowed to die only once; because Link cannot resurrect, his death ends the game. Given this condition, it’s unlikely that even the most dedicated player would get far on his path to Hyrule without encountering an impassable evil. Without the possibility of resurrection, the game would be incredibly challenging and utterly pointless.
To some, even the possibility of heavily limited resurrections is pointless. In the early game Donkey Kong, for example, the player gets three lives to navigate through repetitive and increasingly difficult terrain. Of course, this feat isn’t beyond some, to which the movie King of Kong attests.
So what does this say of the real world? If Link were a true human avatar, obeying the laws of our reality within the fantasy world of Hyrule, the gamer would be stuck in a world with no—or very few—second chances. Reality starts to sound like a pretty tragic videogame: no resurrection, no second chance, one life. If you actually had to buy such a game from a store you would likely grow frustrated and toss it aside. This game of “reality” certainly wouldn’t be as well loved as your Zelda cartridge. And yet, unlike the player of this hypothetical game, we do not fall into a pit of pointlessness when faced with such a stark situation in the real world. Instead, we go to great lengths to preserve our one life, even sometimes at the cost of a potential means of great enjoyment. This doesn’t mean that people don’t still devote themselves to seeking answers, but many are content just accepting things as they are. So why would such an established and beloved franchise as Zelda bastardize the