The Legend of Zelda and Philosophy_ I Link Therefore I Am - Luke Cuddy [4]
Are videogames as significant a cultural phenomenon as Shakespeare plays or Mozart symphonies? Can certain games unveil truths about the human condition with the level of profundity found in, say, a Hamlet soliloquy? Maybe so, maybe not—the fact is we don’t know yet, just as no one knew about Shakespeare when the Globe Theatre first opened it’s doors. Videogames are an emerging cultural form and, while some would like to lump them together into one indication of declining values (as shows like The Simpsons were once lumped), I am more optimistic. One of the beautiful things about being a philosopher (or more generally, a thinker) is that you look to the future with wonder and anticipation. What does the future hold? We are surrounded by gamers, and their number is only increasing. Will this change the way we think about the world? Can studying games teach us something about who we are? Or is it naïve to think so?
Whatever the case, those of us who’ve played videogames, and that includes the writers in this book, find value in at least some videogames. That is, enough value to tackle the following questions concerning the epic Zelda franchise. What is the nature of the gamer’s connection to Link? Does Link have a will, or do we project ours onto him? How does the gamer experience the game? Do the rules of logic apply in the gameworld? How is space created and distributed in Hyrule? How does time function and how does its functioning effect the gamer? Is Zelda art? Can Hyrule be seen as an ideal society? What about the Triforce? Is there anything symbolic about courage, wisdom, and power? Why do we want to win and defeat Ganon? Can the game be enjoyable without winning? Why do fans create timeline theories in such detail? Can these theories adhere to scientific standards? How is death treated in Hyrule? How do repetitive tasks performed in the game differ from repetitive tasks in everyday life? Does Zelda perpetuate a stereotype of female inferiority?
That there are differences of opinion and interpretation from one chapter to another should not be surprising. This book doesn’t support one point of view over the other any more than philosophy does. Philosophers have been in disagreement since the Greeks and this book doesn’t propose to break that tradition. Furthermore, Zelda does not itself state a philosophical position. Zelda does not do philosophy. But it does bring some very interesting philosophical questions to the table, inciting the thinkers in this volume to adopt their own positions.
Philosophy, Zelda, and the AHA! Feeling
However, Zelda does do something for you that you may not consciously recognize. Many of you, I’m sure, know that feeling of finally understanding something, of struggling and struggling and struggling with—in the case of philosophers—Kant, or Heidegger, or Wittgenstein to no avail until, lo and behold, everything becomes clear. It’s like a puzzle has settled into place in your brain, and you can just sit back and admire the beauty of it, and you know the struggle was worth it. These moments of clarity are sometimes referred to as the AHA! feeling by philosophers.
The ancient master, Plato, had a bit to say about this feeling (although he didn’t specifically call it that). In his dialogue The Meno, a discussion between Socrates and a Slave Boy reveals the nature of the AHA! At a certain point, Socrates has just, through questioning, got the boy to reveal his knowledge of a two foot by two foot square with two lines drawn horizontally and vertically though the middle (figure below).
The boy knows it’s a square, has sides of two feet, and has an area of four feet. Socrates keeps questioning. He asks the boy “Now could one draw another figure double the size