Sixteen Points

1. If something is to be judged, there must be a standard to judge it by.

2. If something is to be judged as true, good, or beautiful, objective Truth, Goodness, and Beauty must exist as standards to judge it by. (See 1.)

3. If God does not exist, then there cannot be standards of objective Truth, Goodness, and Beauty.

4. Objective Truth, Goodness, and Beauty exist. (See 2.)

5. Therefore, God exists as the standard of Truth, Goodness, and Beauty.

6. Since there is nothing greater than God, he is the greatest being.

7. The greatest being is worthy of attention, devotion, and worship (as a start) from all lesser beings.

8. Therefore, God is worthy of attention, devotion, and worship from all lesser beings.

9. If God is the maximal good, then it follows that he is our maximal good. (See 6.)

10. We must worship God if we are to experience maximal goodness. (See 8.)

11. We do not give God the worship which he deserves.

12. Therefore, we cannot experience the maximal goodness that is God (and since anything less than God is hell, we can only experience hell).

13. Demonstrating grace to fallen creatures is a necessity to perfection.

14. Therefore, God, as a perfect being (see 6), must demonstrate grace to fallen creatures.

15. Christianity presents God having successfully and sufficiently demonstrated grace to fallen creatures.

16. Therefore, Christianity is true.

In Defense of Biblical Chastity

Among several other topics, I was asked to comment on the apparent harshness of the Bible in its standards for sexual morality, mainly in the area of engaging in sexual activity outside of a marriage relationship. I wanted to start with this topic for several reasons: 1) the subject matter has a noticeable presence in daily life (including my own), and 2) many of my thoughts may be applicable to other biblical principles and so I may be able to kill several birds with one stone. At the very least, I hope to do as much damage as I can now so that I will be able to hit on certain grounds running if I reach them. While I hope to defend the Bible as moral, I also have a bit of a hesitation in addressing this particular subject simply because I feel underqualified: I am not in such a relationship, nor have I really been. Also, it may be obvious how little I have read on the scientific and psychological studies on sex; I may come off as an amateur to those who are more devoted to such studies. As far as I can tell, science does not run against any of my conclusions. Yet I can only give my own measly, inexperienced thoughts, as well as struggles, on what the Bible considers as maintaining purity.

First, I would like to address the attitude that many seem to have that the Bible is unreasonable in condemning sexual activities outside of a marriage relationship. Biblical chastity, one may argue, is either behind the times or a slap to the face of reality. The typical human being is designed to strongly want sex, is it not? Starving our appetites, then, seems nonsensical and arguably torturous. It seems much more reasonable for some to say that the Bible has become irrelevant (assuming it had relevancy to begin with) as humanity has evolved over time. The God of the Bible is considered too strict. Well, generally speaking, I can agree that human sexual urges are quite strong. However, generally speaking, it seems like exaggeration to say that resisting sexual urges is torturous or unreasonable. Sexual discipline can be difficult, certainly, but the burden is on the critic to prove how resisting sexual urges to the point of abstinence is unreasonable. Also, the accusation that the Bible makes unrealistic demands seems fallacious to me. I do not see why we must necessarily throw out certain passages of the Bible as dated because people do not happen to find them agreeable to their tastes. Frankly, it seems all too easy to accommodate to current trends by removing obstacles that had general approval in the past. As before, the burden of proof is on the critic to show why our sexual evolution is a good thing. It is just as reasonable to assume that humanity is in the wrong; the apparent harshness of the Bible’s sexual standards may mean that there has been a corruption of our sexual natures. A possible truth is that humanity has been dying; our senses have decayed and we have fallen further below the standard of real living, and we have made very little attempt at making progress back. I am not arguing that the Bible is correct in its conception of reality (at least, not yet); all I mean to show for now is that the God of the Bible is likely to be not so unreasonable in his expectations for the ideal sexuality. We would think a man ridiculous if he were to shout, “The world has gone dark!” when really he was losing his eye sight to old age.

I am not saying that the Bible is not demanding; admittedly, it is. I know how bitter and dull the taste can be at first. I would be no exception to a corrupted sexual nature, which brings me to my second point. If I am to defend biblical chastity, I feel I must show where I believe to have failed in keeping it. As a typical heterosexual male with blood in his veins, I relate to all the common titillations: eyeing at girls rather than looking away, generating fantasies and fancies of a sexual act in my mind, and masturbation. All that I just mentioned culminates into my ongoing conflict against pornography. Times of extreme boredom and loneliness can allow temptations to rush at me like a rabid dog. More often than not, circumstances form a perfect set of diversions for temptations to strike like an assassin. As a Christian, I have, because of the grace of God, been able to stand against temptation;  even in times where I seem to have received no help, I have picked myself up to try again, learning about my impulses over time. But the game continues. I have only been fighting an infection that has not gone away; it slithers in the darkness and seeks to seep into my mind constantly. Pornography’s constant presence and shocking ease of accessibility certainly does not help matters. Perhaps I can shed some light on how I have managed to combat this infection.

Pornography is like inhaling second-hand smoke. Everyone often notes the rancid odor and is repelled by the mere thought of it. Yet there is a small relieving pleasure to be had if you stick around. After you’ve gotten past the odor, you are comfortable with it. “There is no downside,” you may say, “I am not actually smoking; just inhaling fumes.” After a while (sometimes only a few seconds), you have realized what is happening to your brain and the experience becomes nauseating. But it is too late; you are “into it” now. The fumes have seeped in and done their work. Your brain and body have taken a fancy to this new experience, and it will want more later on. It is then that you are hooked, and have given birth to a center of pleasure. If you want to think of it that way, a sexuality has developed in your mind.

I have found that use of analogy is helpful in understanding just how bad a certain addiction can be. My analogy is by no means the only one; you can probably make a better one. My point is to show the need to make the addiction as disgusting to my mind as much as possible. I must hate what I have become in order to make any progress. Certainly, making no attempt at all will get me nowhere. Exposing an assassin can be as simple as bringing light upon it, seeing it for what it really is. Sexuality is not an evil of itself; Christianity will immediately correct anyone who says otherwise. It is always spoiled good that is evil; a good thing being pursued in the wrong way (or sometimes a good thing being misplaced as the best thing). The sooner I realize my condition, the sooner I can try to fix it. If I can set my mind with the smallest intention of being better, I have done well.

My sexual satisfaction in enjoying pornography, separating one impulse from the whole of sexuality, is undoubtedly corrupt. I am designed for a woman, not for watching others “do it.” Pornography itself and enjoying it is a misrepresentation of what sex is. But that is not what you are wondering, is it? We are asking how accountable for our actions we are; can we be blamed for our corrupted impulses? Why should God get angry for my weak self-control that is constantly battered against as it is? As for me, I can perhaps be excused somewhat for my odd sexual behavior. If I were nice to myself (and that happens too often), I may even say that 99% of my behavior is no fault of my own; 99% may simply be a result of cultural presence, over-exposure (or maybe under-exposure), ease of accessibility, biological factors that I am ignorant of, and the corruption that has grown within humanity for many centuries. I could say that I have been helplessly influenced; I may be a mere victim of powers beyond my control that has predisposed the inevitable abnormalities that I am forced to live with. But I do see a problem. There is the 1%. That nagging, wicked, inexcusable 1%, and that small percentage may be too generous. That 1% is what I must be held accountable for. The 1% is my awareness of self, awareness of the ideal, and my free will. The 1% is pure “me.”

I do not want people to misread my being upfront as an attempt to be fed sympathy. Making excuses is precisely part of what has not made the problem go away. My “honesty” about my abnormality would be a very cheap honesty if I was not ashamed of said abnormality. As I have said, the 1% has fed my corruption. At least 1% has been a cruel consumer. Guilty is guilty. Ideal sexuality is hard to attain, and there may be many obstacles in the way of attaining it, but my attitude has been wrong. My lack of attempt to do anything to progress back to the ideal is the true sin. The 99% may earn me some sympathy, but are these passive forces that have shaped me what I will ultimately be judged by? One day, the 99% will be stripped away. I will have no weird psychology, corrupted biology, poor upbringing, pervasive culture, or unique curses to hide behind. The pure 1%, my very soul, untouched by any and all powers that be, the inner strength that no one can destroy, will be bare naked for all to see. The choosing creature will be all that is left. I will be seen for who I truly am.

Enough about me. It should not be surprising that either to have sex within marriage or not at all seems unreachable. That is what we have been taught. That is how we have been trained. Of course, the world probably would not say that chastity is a bad thing. An assassin would take a more subtle, alluring approach. I have been told that I cannot resist the urge. More and more propaganda is shoved in my face, offering me consummation of “my wildest desires;” wild desires that they themselves injected and agitated, obscuring the real thing. I have been told that I cannot be happy without sex. I have been told that I must express my sexuality or harm myself by repressing it. Such a false dichotomy! The worst part is that I have fallen for it. I did not resist, even when I knew it all to be a lie. I have a few choice words for my captors. I have never truly intended to try to control my impulses, but I now purpose it in my heart. The world has hardly expected me to try complete self-control, but I will surpass their lax expectations. There will probably be times when I am in desperate need of help, but all I have to do is ask. There may be times that I stumble, but I will get back up. I will not be enslaved by my body’s every whim. Instead, I will arouse my desires only if the time for doing so ever arrives. In the meantime, I have the freedom to have unhindered longing for another world first and foremost. I trust that I have the freedom to express that. So much for taking the focus off of me.

There is so much more that I could say here. I can only imagine how many routes this discussion has led to. For now, I will make one more point and I am done. My main intention here was to defend the biblical command to pure sexuality, but I also hope that this gives encouragement to readers. You are not too far gone that you can be excused for yourself, but you are conversely not irredeemable. You have the chance to partake in a process of grace that has long been at work for humanity’s benefit. Salvation is a status that cannot be earned, and what cannot be earned is of the Father of light and love. The redemption of soul and body is assured by the act of Christ, and even then I believe it is possible to restore the body to its former glory in this life. I think it is also worth mentioning that you, though accountable, will not be judged as if you had no obstacles to overcome. There can be room for benefit of the doubt. If you fail (which you will), you can pick yourself up and try again. The worst that you can do is to be content with anything less than your best. But also remember (and this is extremely important) that morality is not the point of Christianity. Read what I write carefully: a Christian is one who is saved by grace, and made pure by what Christ did. When you realize that you cannot be perfect, you realize the need to have perfection done for you. Jesus of Nazareth lived the only life that was worth living, and died so that the perfect life could be given to you. Your moral failure, your sin, your very self was covered by blood sacrifice. Once you have come to trust that Christ died for you, you can wage war like a champion with the knowledge that you are a recipient of grace and you are seen as blameless in spite of your failures. You must trust Jesus with yourself, and then (and only then) the process of being made perfect begins.

Just as bravery subdues natural fears of danger, chastity subdues natural lusts for sex. Both require effort, discipline, and immense courage. Above all, one must learn to depend on someone that is not of this world to fill his true longings. Make no mistake: complete chastity is the clear command. But God’s commands are much more like invitations, with his glory (and therefore our best) in mind. Urges are powerful monsters, but they provide opportunity for us to overcome them and our own selves. Put away the comfortable cowardice. Equip your armor and sharpen your blade. Stand as knights, and as rebels. Actually, you may be surprised at how easy it is to disarm the world if you simply try. As a good chap once said, “it is wonderful what you can do when you have to.”

The Problem of Pleasure

“Depend on it; when the saints say that they-even they-are vile, they are recording truth with scientific accuracy.” –C. S. Lewis

“And Jesus said to him, ‘Why do you call me good? No one is good except God alone.”              – Mark 10:18

 

In my previous essay, I argued how the greatest of life’s pleasures pointed to something even greater that is beyond life. I argued that our souls are specifically designed to run on no lesser quality of fuel than “God.” My deepest longings must, in fact, have an object. In light of “God,” I have an obligation (no, a motivation!) to live my life in anticipation. Hope is justified; hope is the mindset of “looking forward” that, if it is truly mine, cannot help but express itself as honor and virtue. I cannot live as I once did. I enjoyed the celebration while it lasted. I am compelled by a perplexing implication to my knowledge of the True, Good, and Beautiful. Perhaps describing the perplexity as a “yin” to the established “yang” is most fitting. “God” is the only thing that is sufficient for me: unfading, gratifying, deep pleasure. Nothing even as deep as the oceans can quench the thirst of my soul. “God” is not in the oceans, nor the trees, nor the music, nor the best of humanity; they simply cannot contain him. The experiences that do not forever satisfy me are only tokens that point me upward. Yet, tokens can be talismans; there is a magic that is contained within an everyday example of beauty. Through said magic, I find myself aware of “God,” incomparably good and beautiful to the point of being holy; a fire so hot and bright that it cannot be approached. After all, what am I to “God?”

The simplest form of the proposed “problem of pleasure” is this: pleasure inspires a sense of the happiness that I long for, yet there is also a sense of hesitation in my nature that shirks from happiness. I push myself away because my mind screams, “I am unworthy.” Something that distinguishes me from animals is that animals’ inner programming focuses on survival, not necessarily pleasure or happiness. Animals never shirk away from what they need; they feel no sense of guilt for fulfilling their needs, because they have no sense of right and wrong. Though we may pity the poor antelope being mauled by a lion, neither side complains or rejoices. I, a spiritual animal that is made for more than survival, have a consciousness and will, an unshakable sense of my own heart. Only by willfully becoming like an animal (or something lower) is morality “shaken off.” When I am given something that delights or satisfies me, it is only decent to respond with gratitude and bow out of a sense of feeling blessed. Pleasure is oddly humbling. I think everyone knows what I mean. I express embarrassment in a “pleasure exchange” when I say things like, “Oh! You’re too kind,” or “What did I do to deserve you?” I do not mean to say that happiness or humility is bad; actually, the fact that both happiness and humility must exist together in “pleasure exchanges” in spite of them being good things is, in fact, the problem. The paradox within me is that in feeling good, I feel bad. And in feeling bad, I feel bad (which is bad enough). Let me be clear: I am not saying that my sense of guilt (or “badness”) is the problem. Just as the symptom called fever is not the problem, but a sign of the problem called the flu, so guilt is a symptom of the disease within me. Humility is the exclusively human symptom of wretchedness, and a trigger for my sense of exile.

My example of the lion and antelope may have painted a cruel picture of nature. Perish the thought of nature being shunned as unpleasant! Many others could sing nature’s praises better than I could. There are some who do not even need to try. I do not endorse nature-worship, but I can understand the longing behind the heathen practice. I did, in fact, draw a comparison to nature earlier. Nature, even in an unsatisfying state, brings me to my knees. We impose ourselves over nature as its masters and caretakers, but I may be mad enough to say that nature cares for us and brings the best out of us. From what I have witnessed, the more we spend time and become enveloped in nature, the more that we become like it: orderly, vibrant, colorful, and breathtakingly beautiful, as well as vicious, sharp, fearsome, and mighty. Above all, jaw-dropping. Altogether lovely and awesome. Like its Creator. I would not even think about approaching a lion, yet I am tempted to learn from it and hope to become something remotely close to a being that inspires appreciation and fear. I should also remember that I, prone to be a sluggard, am commanded to go to the ants (even the ants!) in order to learn a thing or two.

If humility stems from true pleasure, nothing conquers me more than the females of our species. If you give me the honor in praising a woman, that is a reward in itself. If a woman pays me a compliment, I am bashful. Looking upon such an incredible example of beauty, I can only sit back and gaze in wonder and reverence. The picture is well enough on its own; why should I force myself onto it? The maiden simply does not need me to gaze upon her to be beautiful, much less allow me the pleasure to praise her.

The reader might consider me a real suck-up by this point, so I want to get back on track. What does all my pleasure talk have to do with “God?” Pleasure in this world is, of course, a symbolic way of comprehending the incomprehensible pleasure that is “God.” I am compelled to say that the paradox of pleasure we experience in this world is a small hint to a horrifying truth about the next world. As my desires of heaven are aroused by the pleasures of earth in the form of longing, so my unworthiness of heaven is aroused by earthly pleasures in the form of guilt. In the ecstasies of earth, I sense heaven’s light and my blackness. In a swap of roles, nature’s humbling care of man awakens a frightening awareness of the holy wrath of “supernature.” I am humbled by the smallest taste of a true, good, beautiful, terrifying, holy, and unknown “God.” I have spoken of “God” as an object to be found and held in my hands. I am reminded that I am actually in his hands.

The reader may believe that I am suffering a delusion or, worse, schizophrenia. First I speak of “God” as the only thing that can fill me, and then I cut the hope down with talk of guilt and wrath. Of course, “God” is love, for there is nothing as good as love. That is true enough. But why should that be a comfort to me? Is it not sensible to say that Love himself is something to shudder at? To say that Love towering above my meager self should leave me in awe? To say that my very best (I have not even considered my worst) is ruthlessly lacking? The baffling paradox is that the greatest of pleasures makes me the most miserable of wretches.

I began this essay with asking “What am I to ‘God?’” I was putting myself in proper perspective. I willingly believe that in my best and truest, shining as bright as the sun, I am still only a dull mirror; the best that you may see in me is only a reflection of glory. I have been mostly focusing on myself, because I can confidently speak for myself. But I am not the only human, though I suppose it is possible that I may be something below a human. Here, my shyness about the subject shows. I have had the privilege (and challenge) to know some of the best of humanity, some who seem closer to “God” than I ever could. For all the highly intelligent, polite, philosophical, introspective, enlightened lords and ladies of the earth, I am saying that something is wrong with them. To tell the truth, the “godhood” of some people has been very difficult to reconcile with the world that I have known. I would make a terrible judge.

Longing

“We all long for Eden and we are constantly glimpsing it: our whole nature…is still soaked with the sense of exile.” –J. R. R. Tolkien

 

I begin with a deep, personal, and universal subject. When I refer to “longing,” I am simply talking about desire for more than we have or for something we need. I suppose “longing” would be most apparent when experiencing life’s most disappointing aspects. Disappointment may be too weak a word to describe our lowest points in life. Yet even embraced by life’s greatest pleasures, complete satisfaction seems to have eluded us. At the tops of a mountain, we cannot help but look to the stars. The trip to an attractive place wasn’t quite as magical as you might have hoped. A remarkable work of art or a dream stills feels like a shadow or a reflection of something else. A feeling I loathe is when various things start to become noticeably boring. The universe seems inadequate, like it cannot meet our standards. Our souls make a remarkably tall order.

We can only find what we seek in a place of infinity, where nothing fades or bores. I now introduce the idea of the True, the Good, and the Beautiful. I am not talking about things that are true, or good, or beautiful; those things carry the ideas of truth, goodness, and beauty, but still leave something to be desired. I’m talking about what true, good, and beautiful things inherit their qualities from. This seems abstract, but this is the way I understand it: when we say that a mountain or sunset vista is beautiful, what are we comparing that to? Apparently it is something that we have seen before, or at least have knowledge of. The most beautiful thing in the world is still only something that is filled with something greater, namely beauty. Beauty is undeniably inherent in a vista, like it was given its qualities by something even greater. The vista happens to be measurable by some high standard from outside that we are aware of. I cannot (and should not) settle for anything less.

How did we come to know these high standards? I call it nostalgia: a longing for what once was; a desire to return to what we were once fully present in. When you taste food crafted by a master chef (who knows how to enhance flavors and stimulate the tongue), it is hard to be satisfied with “fast food” afterwards. In the same way, if you have had a taste of absolute perfection, your soul is spoiled rotten and always left craving more. The craving for perfection is not meaningless like a wish for unicorns to exist or for an in-grown toenail to be instantly cured. This craving is meaningful because it gives meaning to life, which we dare not reject out of fear of being considered sick. If there is nothing “out there” and our desire for perfection is only a mood swing, we have nothing but an inevitable grave to look forward to. Even for those that agree that life is a meaningless party that one should live up while he can, they still have a determined nature that refuses to accept their own idea. Why do we stubbornly live like there must be more than this life if we are convinced that there isn’t?

We are starving for paradise, trying to grasp what we once had. We are desperately homesick. Amnesiacs can regain memories of an old home. Memories have a variety of triggers. For instance, a marvelous piece of music, or a dream-like story, or an awesome portrait can re-kindle hearts, reminding them of the warmth of an ancient flame that they once felt. Another trigger to our memories of paradise is when the flame is tucked away: injustice, guilt, pain, cruelty, irrationality (a personal pet-peeve), and disappointment (or a severe form called “heartbreak”) leave us cold, frustrated, and helpless. The coldest of our triggers is death, which is the most anticlimactic phase of life. Death steals any profit that life makes. As far as death is concerned, the idea of living life to its fullest has as much meaning as a life cut short. A life could be long or short, prosperous or poor, upright or wicked, but death would be the end. That would be the case, but we apparently know better.

So we have a need which no experience in the physical universe can satisfy. We have knowledge of an “Edenian” need because we were built for its fulfillment, like the stomach for food. Now I want to apply a bit more cold and rigid logic: I now want to answer what or who exactly the object of our desire is.

As to what the thing is, I say that the object we long for must be personal rather than an unconscious object, place, or force. We have an apparent need for relationships with other persons; do not the most fulfilling parts of our current life involve having other persons (the best kind, anyway) in our lives rather than mere things? The center of our desire must be a conscious mind, also known as a personal being, or a soul (at the very least). It follows that the soul would be immaterial, transcending the physical universe. The soul must also be in need of absolutely nothing if it is in and of itself the fulfillment of everything, and so it would be self-sufficient. Being all-powerful, I think, fits into self-sufficiency; if some things are beyond your control, you are lacking in abilities and in need. Finally, the soul must be the absolute good that embodies the justice and love that we crave, and so be morally perfect. The description I have just given would be what we commonly refer to as “god.”

“God” is the fulfillment of our souls, the source of all the truth, goodness, and beauty that we love. A tall order, indeed. Would it be irreverent of me to call “god” the TGB (True, Good, Beautiful), giving all of my devotion and affection? The greatest conceivable being, our maker, deserves all that we have to give. We have no other purpose but to fill ourselves with whom we were made for. Life’s meaning is to learn to seek the better world and to help others to do the same. The world that we see now is only a glimpse, what we hear only an echo, and the love that we express only a taste of the real thing. Our top job is service, to mankind as well as TGB. Service includes (but is not limited to) teaching to others, working for humanity’s benefit, arousing senses of eternity through art and science, or simply providing an ear to speak to or a shoulder to lean on. We must give pleasant reminders to others of the one whom they truly need. We must also remember to never forget to appreciate the tokens of Eden that we have, while never holding those tokens as the one thing that we must pursue. As creatures made for more than this world, we must never allow ourselves to settle for fleeting pleasures.

Go, therefore, and give ‘em heaven.

Appendix to LA Commentary (Incomplete)

I had not played Link’s Awakening since I had finished my commentary on it, so I figured that I would return to the game once again. I am almost convinced that the game gets better every time I play it. My love for the game grows as I do. After playing through the game for the umpteenth time, I thought that I would give thoughts that have developed in my mind regarding the game’s ending. Truth be told, I feel a bit guilty for ending my commentary with a critique of the last cutscene of the game so I felt like more was needed. In a stronger spirit of truth, I do not regret my criticisms on the cutscene. However, I did want to talk more about the aspects regarding the last moments of Koholint, memories, nostalgia, and the like. In short, this brief article can be considered an appendix or epilogue to the commentary. However, truth being my treasure, I must be a bit more honest: this will be much more of a transcribing of meditations than an analysis.

LA can be an emotional experience. All the better if it is. I would find it strange if any game at all did not spark some emotion. The thrill of a story, the joy of visuals and music, the feelings of being impressed and satisfied by a game’s mechanics and design; these are aspects that get me emotionally invested in a game. Emotion seems to be the way that we respond to anything that matters to us. Emotion may be what makes possible our comprehension of things like joy, peace, grace, and (above all else) love. Perhaps there will come a day when emotion will no longer be necessary in properly enjoying things such as love, but I digress.

I have heard of people’s reactions to LA upon reaching its end. I have heard of some even shedding tears over seeing Koholint disappear. I have never shed tears over LA. On the contrary, the ending of LA gives me a sense of accomplishment. Rather than a sense of grief, I feel a sense of satisfaction in finishing the game. Rather than regret, I feel gratitude. Was I too young to understand why I would care about Koholint on my first playthrough? It is possible, but what about now? Have I grown numb to LA over time? Is it possible that I have grown somewhat unemotional? I’m not sure if that is the case. If I were so emotionally stoic, I probably wouldn’t be writing this. No doubt that the story of LA is perplexing; I do not think that the ending was meant to leave the player in a happy state. I believe that the strength of LA’s ending is giving a unique sense of closure. Koholint’s story has ended. The door has closed. It is finished. It is time to move on.

On the other hand, the situation can come off as bleak. Koholint is gone. All the people and animals, an entire world has faded back into nothingness. The moment the switch is set to “off”, the world in your hands simply ceases. Your playground, your experience, your struggles, and your fun have ended. You will never see the game as you saw it before again (for you only have one first playthrough of a game). When a dream ends, you find yourself awake-totally lucid-on your bed as if you never even fell asleep. You may have “saved” Koholint, but it did not exist before you turned the power on. All you did was revert it back to its original state: an empty screen. What was the point in starting the whole process of “salvation”? Was it a waste of time? Should the game have not even been played at all?

What is left to explain my sense of accomplishment? If a thing is to be of any worth, the thing (or an effect of the thing) must last forever. Two solutions remain that attempt to make Koholint live on. I will list these solutions and dismiss them as useless.

1) I can always turn the game back on and restart the entire experience. Great appeal is in this solution. Replayability is a terrific attribute for a game to have. Just think of the possibilities! I can relive the same experience and perhaps try a few things differently to see if I am rewarded for my inspection. I can meet the same people all over again and get to know more about them then last time. I can challenge myself, experiment, and discover things that I would not have found on a single playthrough. I should have no fear of getting bored from playing the same game over and over; if I tire of one kind of playthrough, I can go back to another. This cycle can go on forever! So long as I have a charged battery in my device, Koholint can live forever.  But there lies the problem. Koholint will live only as long as one is dreaming of it. In other words, a game must be played forever in order to last. Can I really play one game again and again? I can get the most out of a game, but all a game has to offer is the most it has. Even if I could enjoy Koholint incessantly, I only have so much to offer. I certainly will not live forever. Who will be there to turn the power on when I am gone? No dreamer means no dream.

2) The world will live on in my memories. As the ever ambiguous Wind Fish stated, the memory of the dream survives. I can always recall it! This solution is certainly less time-consuming and my eyes won’t have to grow tired. But it faces a similar problem as the first solution: memories depend on a “rememberer” (what do we call one who remembers?). Just as I cannot be ever physically present to turn the power on, can I say that my memory will always remain? I struggle to remember my daily work schedule; how hopeless I will be when I grow old. I have never had much trouble in believing in the eternality of the soul, but I’m not sure I can say that memories will tag along. One day, I will forget everything and everyone in LA (forgive me, Marin!).

All this talk of things living forever in my thoughts makes me think I’m speaking at funeral. I may as well be speaking at a funeral: listen to me babble on about all the good times I had with this game! I may as well say, “LA was a good game; it lived well while it lasted, and may it never be forgotten!” I suppose that, in a strange sense, my commentary can be read as an obituary.

There, Another Shore

There, another shore
I’m left dreaming of what was
Eden’s shore, I dream.

I am nostalgic
For a land I’ve never seen
Do I crave nothing?

Truth, Goodness, Beauty
Greater than I; can I say
I am all there is?

Purposeless? All is
Negligible? Yet I am
Stubborn to hollow.

I am made to praise
Nothing here is worthy, yet
I must praise something.

Restless, I cannot
Be settled; I must not be
So easily pleased.

Away from Eden
Glimpses and tokens survive
Pleasant reminders.

Ev’ry token I
Take with joy and tears; I wait
For Eden restored.

Universe redeemed
My sin covered, and my soul
Rested and at peace.

Who has met my needs?
Holy King, Just Banisher
True, Good, Beautiful

He I did not make
But I he made, needing him
Necessary One.

So I stand, dreaming
Of another shore, standing
on his promises.

Link’s Awakening Commentary

The following is a commentary on The Legend of Zelda: Link’s Awakening. I’m basically going to be talking about whatever comes to mind during a typical playthrough of the game; level design, mechanics, story, whatever I find interesting. If you haven’t played this game, I highly recommend you do so before going any further because I’m going to be spoiling the entire game and I think this game is worth experiencing first-hand. I’ll also be referencing Link’s Awakening’s (LA’s) predecessor, A Link to the Past (ALttP), quite a bit in the course of this commentary, so it may be helpful to be at least somewhat familiar with that game as well.

The game starts off with, well, Link’s awakening. Marin, a sweet island girl, rescued the player and apparently could be mistaken for Princess Zelda. It’s worthy of note that Zelda is absent from this game, as well as other tropes that had become common in the series. There’s no Triforce, no Master Sword, no Ganon, and the game isn’t even set in Hyrule. This was the first Zelda game to really step outside of the conventions and boundaries that the series had been contained in up to this point and I don’t think it suffers for it. Personally, I like it when a game throws me into a completely unfamiliar world, a world that’s strange even for the character I’m playing as. I find it makes the world all the more intriguing and enticing to explore as there’s a hint of mystery added to the adventure. Tarin gives Link the shield, sends him off to find a sword, and thus begins the game. There’s no overbearing tutorial, no backstory, no drawn out scenes to establish the setting. It’s just a quick little introduction and it’s all that’s needed at this point. The rest of the world is established at the player’s own discretion without interrupting the actual game. You can explore the town, get to know the people, and play some games, but if you want you can go and get your sword to really get the game started. It’s good not to be spoon fed everything at the start so the game can begin within a minute of turning the power on.

Upon finding the sword, the player is greeted by an owl, whose purpose is to give simple directions to help the player escape Koholint Island. If you don’t count Sahasrhala from ALttP, the owl can be considered the first real companion in the series, giving some subtle hints to help the player. Personally, I’m quite fond of the owl and consider him one of the best companions in the series. However, I don’t like him for how often I get to see him, but rather how infrequent his appearances actually are. You only rarely see the owl and when you do he only says a few lines of dialogue before flying away. I think this is simply a matter of the owl knowing his place: he’s there to give a small nudge in the right direction and nothing more. He doesn’t constantly pester the player with reminders or percentages, but if you want to hear everything he said again you can simply look at your map and select the spot where he spoke to you. Because of his lack of intrusiveness, I find the brief interactions with the owl to be pleasant as well as add another layer of mystery to an already weird game.

Speaking of the map, I think I can take this opportunity to geek out over something completely trivial. Opening up the map reveals almost nothing but a void, save the places the player has already walked around in. This may be horrifying for those that recall being totally lost in the first Zelda game, the map of which was nothing but a blank square with a little dot showing Link’s current location. Many probably agreed that the in-game map in Zelda 1 was less than helpful in solving the maze that was Hyrule, so for ALttP they installed a proper map that displayed every location in the game. While I do think the map in ALttP was an improvement, I personally think that the map in Link’s Awakening is superior as it’s the best of both worlds. The map conveniently develops as you progress, leaving a sort of trail to follow if you feel a bit lost. At the same time, you know the places you haven’t visited since the blanks haven’t been filled and you can explore the world further later on to fill in the map. Plus, I think it adds a lot more of that wonder of the unknown that was in the first game since you aren’t given a complete map at the start. This, I think, is the best way to do a map in any adventure game, I suppose. Again, it seems trivial, but I’m a sucker for nice little touches like this. You might as well get used to that.

With the sword gotten the player can enter the Mysterious Forest, the home for a horde of Moblins. With so many enemies in this area, players will notice another new feature of Link’s Awakening: enemy drops in the form of power ups. Enemies will occasionally drop a Piece of Power or Guardian Acorn boosting Link’s attack or defense respectively until they take too many hits. Honestly, though, I find these power ups to be totally unnecessary since the game really doesn’t become so difficult that you need them. Plus, every time you pick one up a blurb of text appears and the music that was setting the mood of the area changes to a pretty obnoxious piece. You can avoid the power ups if you’re a purist, but it’s frustrating to accidently run into one and be taken out of the game as a result. Anyway, to get the key to the first dungeon you are left to figure out how to get past the annoying raccoon with only a subtle hint to guide you. I like how the player has the option to either win some Magic powder back in Mabe Village or search for the mushroom and give it to the witch on the other side of the forest. Having options is always a nice touch to any game because it leaves the player room to experiment and it gives a bit of freedom in how things are done.

Using the key from the forest, Tail Cave is the first dungeon Link has access to in his mission to find a way back home. I think of Tail Cave as a solid first level. There are enemies to slay and puzzles to solve, as is tradition, but Link’s Awakening has its share of new tricks. Compared to ALttP, the dungeon is a lot smaller and more open-ended. It has branching paths and you’d be hard pressed to encounter a dead end in this dungeon no matter what direction you go. Every path eventually wraps around and connects; it’s maze-like without being frustrating. Within the dungeon, we find the Roc’s Feather. With no exaggeration, the Roc’s feather is my absolute favorite item in the series. It gives Link the ability to jump, which is just inconceivable, I know. The Roc’s Feather, in my opinion, is one of the new assets that just is the gameplay of Link’s Awakening, if you know what I mean. It not only opens the way for platforming and unique puzzle-solving, but also more fluid combat. This item allows the player to attack while on the move and adds a substantial, albeit small, layer to fighting. I like that you’re no longer glued to the floor while swinging your sword and you can dodge incoming attacks and even jump right over enemies to get a move on. Now I don’t mean to overstate it; I don’t think it’s the best item in all video gaming or anything, but it is a nice addition that makes combat and even just walking around that little more enjoyable. It also gives a little leeway for some rather unorthodox techniques which I’ll be discussing later. All in all, I think the Roc’s Feather opens a lot of new options and it seemed to allow the developers to be a bit more creative with levels and bosses. It was a stroke of genius to give it this early in the game.

The first boss is a familiar face, Moldorm, who was infamous in ALttP for knocking players back into pits leading to the lower floor and resetting the battle. Well, if you found him annoying then, he’s even more so now. Not only is the room more cramped and resetting the battle still there, but the player can only have three hearts at this point and Moldorm is able to do a heart of damage per hit. I would not be surprised to see even veterans get a few Game Overs from this boss alone. I sometimes wonder if there were any players that just gave up playing Link’s Awakening because of such a difficult boss this early in the game. The Roc’s Feather does help a little, but Moldorm moves so quickly and his pattern is so erratic that it almost becomes a matter of luck to eventually beat him. Once Moldorm is defeated, the player claims the first instrument of the Sirens and that ends Tail Cave.

Upon returning to the village, Link is alerted that Madam Meowmeow’s pet has been captured and taken to the Moblin hideout, which luckily can now be accessed with the Roc’s Feather. You can make good use of the new jumping ability fighting the Moblin boss and once you beat him, the mighty BowWow is yours to command. You need BowWow in order to get past the indigestible flowers in Goponga Swamp, but he has other uses as well. He makes mincemeat out of enemies, swallowing them whole with no effort. He can even eat those annoying Hardhats and they drop a free bomb every time. Plus, BowWow, in true dog-like fashion, lunges out at places where there are items buried and tells you to dig. It’s brief, but it’s always a fun time when you have BowWow traveling with you. But Madam MeowMeow needs her dog back home and, plus, no one likes you if you have him around so you can’t keep him, unfortunately.

The dungeon in Goponga Swamp is Bottle Grotto, one of my favorite dungeons. There are a lot of locked doors to start with, but you could skip most of them and save up your keys. Using your keys wisely can get you through this dungeon fairly quickly. This idea is actually something from the original Zelda that I really like and wasn’t used in ALttP and hasn’t been used in other Zelda games since from what I recall. Despite the openness of ALttP’s world, the dungeons themselves were fairly linear; you had to do things in a particular order, like getting this key to open this door before you get this item and so on. With the original Zelda, you sometimes found several keys and didn’t have to open every door. You were given a choice between several doors with different rewards for picking one. In that game and in LA, you could potentially get through a dungeon very quickly if you didn’t mind ignoring certain items. This gives some options to the player and, as I said earlier, it’s always nice to give players more options to choose from; it lets them figure things out on their own and this lends to a more gratifying sense of pacing and exploration.

One other thing that I think this dungeon is a good example of is making good use of shortcuts. Aside from the portal you unlock halfway through, there’s also a set of stairs right nearby that leads right to the boss, which is accessible once you get the Power Bracelet. I really like how this is done because not only do you have a shortcut to the boss but also a shortcut to the shortcut, if you will. I think of it as a nice reward to the player for getting so far through a level and it also cuts out the tedium of getting back to a certain area if you die. This isn’t revolutionary, by any means, but I think the mark of good and well thought-out level design is when shortcuts are done this well and it’s good to cut out as much tedium as possible as it leads to a much more fluid and, therefore, more satisfying experience for the player.

As I mentioned, Bottle Grotto is where Link gets the Power Bracelet, which needs to be equipped in order to pick up things. By this point, a Zelda veteran should notice the ability to equip or unequip the sword and shield. In previous games, the sword and shield were always a permanent part of Link with another button being assigned to an item. The Game Boy, however, only had two action buttons so the developers had to find some way to work around this limitation. Particularly interesting is the shield as in previous games the shield was a part of Link’s model and could only be used against projectiles and when standing still facing an enemy. Being assigned to a button, the shield now requires the button to be held down to block even direct attacks. While it may not have been totally necessary, I actually think of this as an improvement on the shield’s use in past games. Having to stand perfectly still isn’t a very effective means of avoiding damage and I like that the game is a bit more reliant on my input. It’s also nice to be able to block all kinds of attacks and even use it for some puzzle-solving. With that said, though, using another item requires that I pause the game, scroll through my inventory, equip the desired item, and then continue the game until I inevitably pause again because the level design requires that I equip another item. This can really break the flow of the game, especially when I need the Power Bracelet because this world really loves rocks. It’s a small issue and one that probably was necessary to accommodate some new features, but it’s a shame nonetheless that the game is constantly interrupted by menus.

I do sometimes feel that all of the pausing could have been dealt with if the developers perhaps made the Power Bracelet a part of Link’s character and made it contact sensitive to certain objects, which is how it was done in ALttP. This may have been an oversight or impossibility due to technical limitations, but I honestly can’t say for sure. All in all, though, it’s really not too big of a deal. Having to pause a game isn’t necessarily a tragedy. At any rate, the dungeon ends with a pretty fun boss: a strange clown-genie-thing.
With the Roc’s Feather, the first stage of the fight is pretty easy because jumping essentially gives the player invincibility frames and the fireballs can just go right through Link. Interesting trivia, by the way: in the original version on the Game Boy, this boss threw fireballs at much greater speed. I imagine they decreased the frequency to make it easier on the player since Link would only have 4 or 5 hearts by this point. They could have worked on Moldorm instead but I’ve already been over that.

With the Power Bracelet in hand, about half of the world is now opened up to roam around and explore. Before returning BowWow, though, I recommend taking him for a little walk around the other side of the island and see what can be found. Before that though, I want to point out a cracked wall just along the path east of Mabe that I’ll be returning to later. I will have a lot to say about this wall, so keep in mind that this is the wall Augustus wants to talk about. Anyway, you can’t progress further while Bowwow is with you, but you can find a little easter egg only while he’s with you. I actually have a funny little story with all of this: in the 10-plus years I have owned Link’s Awakening, I had always brought Bowwow back to his owner after Bottle Grotto so I could go to the next area, but not until recently did I think about bringing him as far as I could go with him. I managed to get as far as the outside of Kanalet Castle and I ran into Kiki the monkey. When I got near him with Bowwow, he basically called Bowwow out and they actually started fighting! I had never, ever seen this before and I wasn’t expecting it at all because no other NPCs do this. The best part was that it hit me that this was hidden from me for 10 years! It was just hilarious to me at the time! So, yeah, I really like this hidden gem and I’m pretty impressed that I had not found it for so long. In retrospect, it’s not a mind-blowing secret by any means, but it made a good memory. It’s a great feeling to come back to a game and end up rewarded for being a bit more inspective and experimental than last time.

An area just north of the swamp is also accessible at this point. Once you get past some rocks and ascend some stairs, you can see the centerpiece egg of Koholint that you see at the main menu. The goal throughout the entire game is escape and the only way to do that, according to the owl, is to collect all of the Instruments of the Sirens, like the ones found in the dungeons so far. Once the Instruments have been found, they need to be played in front of the giant egg where the Wind Fish sleeps. The Wind Fish is a pretty ambiguous entity and the only thing known about it is that he’s sleeping and needs to wake up. It’s a simple goal, and it remains the goal for the entirety of the game. I think it’s a nice little touch that the player can just walk up to the egg anytime. Normally, what’s considered the last level of the game is closed off until the end, but in this case, even though you can’t actually enter it, you can stand right at the door of the end of the game. It obviously sticks out, and the player can be left to ponder just what the story behind this egg is, why it’s here, what the deal is with this island, why is it the way it is, you get the idea.

By removing the rocks from the path, you can access the prairie and follow the path until you reach Kanalet Castle. You can also meet Richard, who has an affinity for…leaves. Richard and his, uh, entourage of frogs are one of several unique cameos made in this game, coming from a Japan-only game called “For the Frog the Bell Tolls.” Richard is apparently a monarch that resides over Koholint Island but no one else on the island seems to even know he exists. He gives the key you need in exchange for his leaves but that’s honestly all I can say about him. Even Kanalet Castle isn’t all that interesting. Outside the fact that it bears some resemblance to Hyrule Castle in structure and location it’s rather mundane. Thankfully, this whole section is very brief so the third dungeon is within grasp.
The third dungeon, Key Cavern, is another one of my favorite dungeons. In fact, it’s the first dungeon I think of when I think of Link’s Awakening. It’s a bit strange for me to say that because many think of something like Eagle’s Tower when it comes to LA’s dungeons. I like this dungeon best though because the atmosphere here is very strong compared to other dungeons, especially with the theme that plays. The theme itself is a bit unsettling and I may go so far as to say that it’s outright evil, which gives an impression that the dungeon itself is indeed the most dungeon-like out of all the levels, just very evil. The dungeon is shaped like a pair of keys, there are a lot of keys within the dungeon with several rooms that they go to, and the overall structure gives me the impression that this dungeon is actually some kind of prison. What I am about say next is purely speculative, but I do find it strange that Richard of all people has the key to this terrible place in his possession; I mean, why would he have a key to a dungeon? With all of this in mind, I imagine that the Key Cavern acts or used to act as some kind of prison in connection with Kanalet Castle, which would explain why Richard would have the key to it. It is a bit strange to think of Richard running this kind of place, even stranger to think that a place as peaceful as Koholint would have a prison at all (you know before the monsters showed up). Again, this is only speculation on my part, but I think it’s interesting to think about when you see Koholint may not be quite as much paradise as you might have guessed at first.

Once you get the Pegasus Boots, you can see that another feature unique to Link’s Awakening is using two items in unison. As you can see, this gap I need to cross is too large for me to jump over using my Roc’s Feather alone, but once I assign my Pegasus Boots to the other button, I can gain more momentum using the boots and jump over the gap using the Roc’s Feather with good timing. This is a very novel idea and one that I am shocked wasn’t implemented in a 3D Zelda until a decade later with the Bomb arrows in Twilight Princess, but even then that’s the only combination I can recall. This isn’t the only combination you can come up with in LA: you can, as I showed you already, combine the sword with the Roc’s Feather; you can also combine the bombs with the Roc’s feather, the Hookshot with the Roc’s Feather, and (probably the coolest one) you can combine bombs with arrows, in which you press both buttons at the same time to shoot an arrow with a bomb on the end. Aside from the Roc’s Feather-Pegasus Boots combo, all of these combinations are totally optional and not likely to even be discovered by players on their first playthrough. I suspect that this was the unique mechanic that the developers wanted to try out, though it came at the cost of a lot of menu usage. As slightly annoying as it is, though, I think it was well worth it. Again, I think it’s a very innovative mechanic and encourages the player to experiment with different combinations of items; even if the outcome of some combinations just turns out to be more comical than useful, it’s still a fun way to increase replay-value and find some unique ways of traversing through levels. I’d love to see this return in another installment.

Key Cavern ends with a pretty fun boss (or bosses, I should say). They’re very vulnerable to sword strikes, but they have a counter measure of leaping and crashing down that can stun you and leave you open to damage. This, however, can be avoided with good timing on your jumps, but you still are left to keep track of both bosses. This ends up being a unique, enjoyable, and surprisingly challenging boss as a result.

I hope you’re comfortable because I’m only about a third of the way through the game by this point. At this point you can head straight for Animal Village. The player is expected to head straight through to Yarna Desert to get the key to the fourth dungeon, but the path to the sixth dungeon’s key is also fully accessible. To get to the South Shrine, you only need to get past a few guards, but if you snag the bow and arrow from the shop they go down easily. Without the bow, the enemies in this area can prove a bit challenging, but they’re still possible to get past. You can’t access the sixth dungeon even if you get the key, but it’s still possible to just stumble across the South Shrine and there is good incentive to be here early anyway. The reason being is that the mural within the South Shrine is pretty much the key to understanding the whole story of Link’s Awakening.

The island Link is stranded on is apparently an illusion, or more specifically a dream of the Wind Fish. Waking the Wind Fish will end the dream and Koholint, along with its inhabitants, will disappear, comparatively bursting like a bubble according to the mural. This goes back to what I said at the start about LA stepping outside of the boundaries that had been established by previous games; this is certainly a twist to the conventional story-telling of the first games and arguably some of the more modern games as well. This also presents a bit of an ethical dilemma for Link. So far, he’s been doing exactly what he’s good at and getting stuff done, but if he continues on to the end it could spell a bleak end for the islanders. Being a part of the dream, the people of Koholint may not be real in the same way the player is, but they do seem like real people, at least somewhat. It changes the feel of the game entirely and it does cause the player to think of the game they’re playing a bit differently. I also think that the timing of the player’s entering South Shrine can have a slight effect on the experience as well; again, you technically aren’t supposed to enter South Shrine until more than half way through the game, but it’s very possible, and arguably probable, for a player to enter the shrine only right after the first quarter is done. The player would not have discovered quite a bit in the world and not have interacted with certain NPCs by that point. A player’s attitude towards the rest of the experience can feel greatly altered when compared to another player who stayed on course. Feelings toward certain NPCs, for instance, can drastically vary.

Once you step out of the shrine, the owl appears and sees that you’ve seen the mural. It’s easy to say that the owl tries to play off the message of the mural and even manipulates the player to meet his desires. The owl is the one who sent you on the quest to wake the Wind Fish to start with, so the fate of the people of Koholint seems to be the least of his concerns. However, I think it’s important to remember that, in the standard course of the game, he actually tells the player to go to the South Shrine if they haven’t been there already. He also doesn’t flat out deny what the mural says; he just says it’s hard to say that it’s certain. The owl seems to want Link to know the possible consequences of his actions in spite of the fact that he may have some second thoughts on continuing further. It’s impossible to say who built the South Shrine or fashioned the mural, but the owl doesn’t seem to want to hide the truth it conveys. On the other hand, it’s worth considering the interesting method the owl uses to push the player to carry onward. He says:

“While it does say the island is but a dream of the Wind Fish, no one is really sure…just as you cannot know if a chest holds treasure until you open it, so you cannot tell if this is a dream until you awaken…”

The owl uses a concept that players, especially veterans, are familiar with by this point. If you were to ask any Zelda fan what they would do if they saw a treasure chest in a video game, they would probably say they would open it straight away. This is what Zelda fans by this point had been conditioned to do since opening chests had seemed only to lead to their benefit and there never had been any negative effects in opening them. This is the case especially for players like me; I play these types of games to explore, to discover and learn things about the game’s world and try to master it because I find it enriching and fun. It would never be in my nature as a seasoned gamer to just stop playing a game, especially one I enjoy, just because I may not like where it’s going. The owl seems to be playing at the player’s weakness in this regard. Especially the case for players who followed the standard path of LA, they’ve already come so far so they might as well see it through to the end and see what happens simply out of an adventurer’s curiosity. Even having said all of this, I don’t think it’s wise to say that the owl is manipulative or selfish of his own volition. As I said before, his place is to give the player a nudge in the right direction and nothing more. And again, he doesn’t seem to mean ill toward the player or anyone else. I don’t think that the owl or the Wind Fish can necessarily be blamed for trying to wake up, so I think it’s best to leave his character at that and just press onward.

With Animal Village accessible, the player has contact with virtually every NPC in the game so I figured this would be a good opportunity to talk about them. I am not going to be exhaustive by any means, but I am going to talk about the NPCs that are the most notable. They aren’t real, of course, since the player has come to the realization that Koholint is an illusion, but this is a pretty unique and fun cast and may still be worth getting to know and relating to in some way. Also, these characters have only a little more development than previous games, but it is character development nonetheless and helps in enveloping players in the world of LA and causes them to have some attachment to the characters they meet.

Tarin bears some strange resemblance to who we know to be Link’s uncle from A Link to the Past, and, in relation to the map from ALttP, his house is in a very similar location. I’ve mentioned ALttP several times now and the resemblances between the two games are interesting in and of themselves. I’ll be discussing a few more a bit later on. Anyway, Tarin shows himself to be an adventurer much like yourself, but he often gets into trouble and isn’t very successful. He’s actually one of a number of NPCs that you can encounter on different parts of the island at different times. This helps breathe a bit more life into the NPCs, giving the impression that they have their own life outside of yours and have their own goals in the world. One last interesting bit about Tarin is his name: “Tarin” is a name of Celtic origin that means “high/rocky hill” and is apparently associated with those who are skilled, competent, and able to obtain great wealth. So, seeing how often Tarin gets himself into trouble, it’s kinda funny to see the irony in that.

The shopkeeper in Mabe Village gets my vote for being the strangest NPC in LA. There really isn’t that much known about him other than he likes to charge absurd prices for shovels and bows, but even then he has a very sly, very suspicious look about him. The writers for LA have actually gone on record saying that the characters of Koholint were based off of those from the TV series called “Twin Peaks” and they we’re meant to give off an impression of being “suspicious”. I think, then, that the shopkeeper was a resounding success in that regard since you really can’t get any more suspicious than getting revenge on thieves by using an insta-kill laser beam.

Just north of the shopkeeper we find the home of Paphal and his wife, who I affectionately call “Mamhal”. Apparently, these two are the proud parents of all the kids you find around Mabe village. So, yeah, Paphal seems like a pretty busy guy, and he, much like Tarin, seems to like to get out of the house and explore whenever he can find free time. Also like Tarin, Paphal gets himself into trouble and you eventually need to help him out. Mamhal is pretty busy as well, seeing as how she’s left caring for the kids while the husband is away. There really isn’t much more to say about these two seeing as how they’re not very complex. Yet, one of the things that I find so memorable about them is simply how they look in the scene where you first meet them. The theme that plays when you’re in a house is among my favorite tunes in the game because it really adds to this scene.

This theme paired up with a proud father and loving mother caring for their children sets up a really good memory. It just goes to show that memorability doesn’t necessarily stem from complexity.

Nearby the telephone booth, we can head inside this house and find Old Man Ulrira just rocking away in his chair in peace and quiet. He’s rather shy when you try to talk to him face-to-face but he is perfectly comfortable with talking to you via the phone booths you can find scattered around Koholint. Ulrira is pretty much the equivalent to Sahasrahla as he serves as the wise old man who can give you advice on where to go and what to do next. I personally never use this kind of stuff, but it is a bit astounding how many different ways that players can get hints and reminders on how to beat the game. Even more astounding is the fact that none of this is required for you to listen to; these hints are totally optional and don’t get in the way of the game. In fact, these hint-givers are integrated into the game’s world very well and the game is never brought to a crawl so it can give you some advice in case you’re stuck. That is more than I can say for future installments in the series but I suppose I better move on before I start ranting.

Grandma Ulrira is pretty much the opposite to her husband: she prefers to be outside, she’s far from shy, and she is, in fact, rather exuberant. It’s a bit odd, but I suppose opposites attract. She apparently also loves to spend her glory days sweeping the entire island. All she does is sweep, and sweep…and sweep…man, she’s still sweepin’.

The fisherman is tucked away in the uppermost part of the island just doing his thing. I don’t actually have much to say about the fisherman himself, but he does have an interesting line of dialogue that I’d like to point out. First off, the fishing minigame itself is alright; it’s nothing amazing, but it’s about as enjoyable as you can make fishing in a video game, for me anyway. What’s interesting, though, is that when you catch every fish in the pond and ask to fish some more, the fisherman says the pond is cleaned out and asks if you want to go fish in the sea. If you say yes, he’ll try to take back what he said and tells you to forget about it. I don’t have any strong proof of this, but this makes me wonder if the developers originally wanted to make the fishing a lot bigger than it turned out, but they couldn’t pull it off so they had to scale it down to a pond. It’s an interesting bit of dialogue, and it does make me curious about what a bigger fishing game would’ve been like; I actually think it would’ve been pretty cool to have that! Whatever the case, the fisherman doesn’t seem to want you to try and fish in the sea, so I suppose the explanation for that is up for speculation.

Entering Animal Village, the first NPC to talk with is Schule Donovitch. Schule is a painter and seems to be quite the surrealist because to this day I still have no idea what the heck his painting is supposed to be. More intriguing than Schule, however, is his model for his painting, a female hippo. This hippo has gone through a few changes as a result of localization. Apparently, in the original Japanese and German versions of LA, the hippo had…a bit more detail to her sprite. These details were removed to make her more appropriate for other audiences in the West. It’s probably as good an explanation as any for why the hippo prefers you to not be so close to her as she’s modeling.
Another NPC affected by localization is the mermaid in Martha’s Bay. In the version of LA that I own, the mermaid has lost her necklace, whereas in the original versions she’s lost her bra. Interestingly, she also has connections with Schule as she modeled for his sculpting of “The Mourning Mermaid” statue at the edge of the bay. It is a bizarre coincidence to see Schule have connections with not one, but two NPCs that end up in slightly scandalous circumstances, but I suppose whether or not this has any effect on Schule’s character is up for debate.

Up next in Animal Village is Christine. Christine can come off as a bit cold-hearted when the player first talks with her; she doesn’t exactly give a very nice first impression. Nonetheless, she delights in being pen pals with Mr. Write, who lives north of the forest. When you deliver Christine’s letter to Write, you come to the realization that he actually doesn’t know a thing about her; all this time, he’s been under the impression that he’s been in a relationship with a beautiful woman rather than a goat. This is a bit comical at first, but it actually seems a bit tragic if you think about it from a different angle. Christine does seem to care about Write, but she also doesn’t seem to want Write to know who or what she really is. Unless she enjoys being a practical joker, Christine may be afraid that he won’t accept her for who she is. I often see people think of Christine as being vain and selfish, but she likely has one of the more tragic story arcs in the whole game. I don’t mean to ignore that this is about a love story between a man and a goat, but, still, it is quite sad. I also think that Write’s predicament is meant to be somewhat relatable to the player’s; in both situations, both are in their own little world that’s actually nothing but a sham. In Write’s case, though, he’s blissfully unaware of the truth, and remains so.

Speaking of love stories, last but certainly not least of the NPCs is Marin. Marin is a fairly simple character; she enjoys her island home and loves to sing for anyone and anything around her, but she also dreams of one day seeing the world outside of Koholint. She actually states that she was convinced that there is nothing outside of Koholint until she found Link, so Link’s appearance seems to have inspired her. Marin also says that it was Tarin that said there was nothing outside of Koholint, so this does raise the question of how they had reached that conclusion. After all, if they we’re so curious about the world, why haven’t the islanders ever set sail and left? In fact, wouldn’t Link attempt to do this himself if he wants to get home? This, of course, is explained by the fact that Koholint is a dream, but there is a bit more to add to this explanation. Though it’s not canon, the LA manga shows Link attempting to escape by boat only to be traveling endlessly and never losing sight of the island. So this may shed a bit of light on why it’s impossible to leave the island.

Marin also knows “Ballad of the Windfish”, which is a song that’s necessary to wake the Wind Fish. She sings it when you talk to her, and I have no shame in saying that I’ve sometimes just stopped moving just to listen to her sing. In fact, it’s implied that she sings the song in front of the egg in an attempt to awaken the Wind Fish so that her wish to leave the island could be granted. She isn’t successful in waking the Wind Fish, of course, but it’s also implied that she actually wishes for Link to someday leave the island even if she doesn’t. It’s hard to say for sure if she knows that the island, including herself, isn’t actually real but in any case she seems to hold the player’s best interests above her own. Marin certainly seems like the most memorable of all the NPCs, but the overall cast is very likable in spite of their simplicity. It’s especially a good thing that this cast is endearing considering how Link’s finishing his quest could mean that they would cease to exist, which adds a bit more weight to your actions.

Before getting back to the adventure, I’m taking one last detour so I can return to that cracked wall I asked you to remember earlier. The reason I’m focusing on this cave so much is that it’s a good example of some of the bigger problems that I have with LA. The problems here are twofold: first, even though I am able to blow up the wall and access the cave as soon as I first find it, I can’t do anything because I also need the Pegasus Boots to tackle the obstacles that block the path inside. Even though I had bombs before, I held off this cave until now because there wasn’t anything I could do here until I also got the Pegasus Boots and came back here later. It really shouldn’t have been this way because not only do I waste my time by trying to explore the cave, but I also am likely to forget about this cave since it has already been opened. This isn’t the only cave to do this either; there are a couple of caves that you can access once you get a certain item, but for both you need the Hookshot to actually get the treasure inside. It’s minor, but it just serves as an annoying and cheap trick that wastes the player’s time. The second problem is that there is a very, very well hidden room containing a Heart Piece on the other side of the cave. There is no indication at all that there’s something hidden here. I suppose you could make the argument, in this case, that it would be a bit weird for an area of a cave to have absolutely nothing, so that in and of itself would give an indication that something is hidden. But there are other caves that do the same thing, giving no hint whatsoever to there being a wall that you can blow up. Thankfully, there are no required portions of the game (with one exception later on) that require you to find a room or item as well-hidden as these, but it definitely would have been cheap to implement this kind of design to the main sections of the game.

After that large diversion, it’s time to delve into the Yarna Desert to find the next key. There is really nothing noteworthy about Yarna Desert in and of itself. It’s pretty boring, but it’s small and it has a miniboss from whom you get the key. You can also find an owl statue at the edge of the desert that gives an interesting description. It reads:

“Sea bears foam, sleep bears dreams. Both end in the same way…CRASSSH!”

The crashing sound is, of course, meant to replicate the sound of crashing waves in the sea. This description is one of those things that various players can interpret differently depending on when they discover the truth of the island. If they find the statue before entering South Shrine, like they normally would, then they would be a bit confused about what this description means and forget about it. If they enter South Shrine and then find the statue, they can understand this as a description of what could happen if they wake up the Wind Fish since Koholint is a dream. The statue is a very interesting thing for the developers to add in; it gives a slightly unsettling and perhaps even violent description of what could happen if the player finishes his quest. It makes me think that the developers added this statue with the full intention of having players think more about the world they’re in. I wouldn’t say they wanted to scare the player out of finishing the game, but just to push the thought of Koholint being a dream and everything in the game not being actually real. In other words, it’s meant to be food for thought about the experience the player is involved in. Either that or it’s another weird statement lost in translation.

With the key from Yarna Desert and a leap from the top the player can access Angler’s Tunnel. This dungeon isn’t spectacular in and of itself; it has a few clever puzzles here and there, but for me it serves as a perfect example of those unorthodox techniques that I mentioned earlier. Normally, you’d do a bit of backtracking at the start, getting a key here and there and going back to where you came to unlock doors and progress. However, if you hold on to your keys, come to the large pit, and make the jump to the north side, you can take a great shortcut and save your keys for later. The jump is a bit tricky, but with enough determination you can make it over there. Once you do, you’re left with more than enough keys to get you through the rest of the level, and you can avoid virtually half of the dungeon. You can get the Flippers very quickly and, once you get the Nightmare key, you can simply make a small jump across to the boss door rather than walking through several rooms. All of these shortcuts can effectively make Angler’s tunnel the shortest dungeon in the game and I can’t help but wonder whether or not these shortcuts were intentional; especially with how easy the last jump is, I can’t help but wonder “how did the level designers miss that?” All the same, I’m very glad that these shortcuts exist; I don’t mind going through this dungeon the normal way, but I don’t think I can emphasize enough how much I love options, experimentation, discovering and figuring things out on my own. When I discovered these shortcuts, I felt a great sense of accomplishment that I don’t feel with many other games where there’s usually a certain way the developers want me to go and I have to just put 2 and 2 together without straying from their formula. It really helps in a game’s replay value and causes me to pay attention to other parts of the world where there could be shortcuts or some other secrets. And there are other shortcuts throughout LA that can feel rewarding to find and make a playthrough all the more interesting! Even if it’s not intentional, it’s really great level design if you cause the player to consider experimenting with what they have to find an alternate route. It’s like solving a puzzle in a way you were never meant to solve it, which is a great feeling.

I actually occasionally have a little trouble with the fish boss; in fact, he sometimes forces me to use my potion in the middle of battle. This giant fish is often belittled as one of the easiest bosses ever, but I do think that there are a few things that can catch players off guard. For one thing, their movement in water is rather sluggish aside from going upwards using the Roc’s feather. Plus, the fish takes up a lot of space, so he can be tough to avoid when he charges at you. After he charges at you, rocks start to fall and small fish swim in that can knock you around and cause you to take more damage. I suppose that it’s possible that I just suck at this boss, but I really don’t think that’s the case. I’ve made it clear that I love this game and I’ve proved to be somewhat skilled at it, so clearly this is just a difficulty spike. All of those other players have just been really lucky in taking no damage at all. I suppose it would help to either spam the B button like a madman or use the spin attack to do extra damage, but I don’t abuse cheap tactics like that. I mean, I was aware of those tactics during this fight. I mean, I’m not an idiot; I’m not an idiot, honestly. I mean, obviously, I’m not an idiot.

After Angler’s Tunnel, the journey is now about halfway done. Next up is the Catfish’s Maw at Martha’s Bay. At this point of the game, though, players will be greeted quite unexpectedly by a strange apparition. This ghost doesn’t say anything at all upon meeting you; he just shows up and follows you around, only occasionally asking you to bring him to his house. I recall in my first playthrough how I encountered this ghost for the first time; I basically thought that I did something wrong in-game and this ghost following me around was supposed to be some sort of punishment. Meeting the ghost was a pretty weird and uncomfortable moment for me because I just had no idea what was going on; I imagine many others who played this game had a similar experience. I recall trying to just ignore him but being totally unable because he makes this ungodly noise with every transition to another area. He follows you everywhere and I remember trying just about everything I could to try to get rid of him. I really can’t help but emphasize how this moment plays out; this encounter with the ghost doesn’t have any cutscene or any kind of introduction. It happens while you are playing the game; no interruptions, no dialogue, no cutscene; it just happens and I think the moment is more effective because of that. I initially didn’t think of this as a normal part of the game or some side-quest that I had to complete to progress; the lack of any kind of cinematic drew me into what was going on even more than any cutscene would have. If this was done with some kind of cutscene, without me simply coming upon it while walking around, I would have been taken out of the game instantly because I would know that this is something that I am supposed to find and the developers expect me to be impressed or disturbed by the scary ghost. A cutscene wouldn’t have made this ghost scary; it would’ve shattered my immersion in the game’s world. This moment seized my attention simply by its subtlety.

This is an example of one of the bigger differences I find between modern and older games; a lot of modern games tend to try and imitate film and show how impressive it can be with well-animated cutscenes in an attempt to capture your interest and further immerse you in the game. This is entirely counter-intuitive to me, though, because when the cutscene comes on, I know it’s trying to impress me and it takes me out of the game as a result. It doesn’t help that the game also thinks it’s a good idea to seize control away from me just so it can show itself off. Older games, though, were unable of doing this kind of stuff due to technical limitations and had to rely on things happening while you’re in action. Games back then weren’t trying to imitate other mediums; they were doing their own thing and telling stories in the way they could. Things happening in real-time while you are playing the game is one of the unique and very effective traits of video games as a medium of story-telling. It’s also one of LA’s unsung, and uncommon, strengths. Even when an event occurs in LA that interrupts your game, it’s usually very brief and subtly introduced. The scene with the Nostalgia Ghost in his old home isn’t presented with any weird angles or anything else that would serve to make you feel emotional. By seeing this event play out in a way that’s consistent with the rest of the game, you already feel emotional and invested in what’s going on with the ghost. Every person can relate in some way with the feeling of coming home and, while there’s no cinematic to show what the ghost is feeling, the dialogue, music, and event gives enough information for you to fill in the blanks. The result is a moment that is more effective and personal than it would’ve been if presented as a cutscene.

There’s not much given from the game about the Ghost himself as far as who he was or how he died. Again, we have to turn to the manga as a last resort for any information. According to the manga, the ghost was named Nakura in life and was a soldier like Link himself. In fact, Nakura gives Link a new, more powerful sword that mirrors the level 2 sword you can acquire in the game. The closest thing to confirmation of all this in-game is the Secret Seashell you find in the Ghost’s house; the seashells are used to create the level 2 sword, of course, but they also only seem to be obtainable by a real adventurer who would have to face danger to get them. So the fact that, in life, the Ghost managed to find one of the Secret Seashells in some quest to obtain the ultimate sword could give some indication that the manga got it right with Nakura.

With the Nostalgia ghost at peace the player can enter the Catfish’s Maw just by swimming in. Honestly, this is the most boring dungeon in the game for me. It’s just rather linear and not really that interesting. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still a solid dungeon and you get the Hookshot here, which is always a plus. Other than that though there’s not much to talk about, so I’m gonna take this time to talk about the dungeon layouts for the game. Each dungeon in the game is structured in a similar fashion to those of Zelda 1, with each dungeon built to resemble an object, perhaps fitting with the theme of the dungeon. The Tail Cave is shaped like Moldorm, the Key Cavern is shaped like a pair of keys and so on. I may be alone on this, but I feel that this design philosophy (for lack of a better term) is very effective as it gives the impression that the dungeons were built intelligently. Obviously, the levels are designed by the developers, but each unique layout helps create the illusion that someone in the game’s world, like monsters or someone else, had a sense of purpose in making the dungeon. It doesn’t seem like whoever built the dungeons were just throwing traps and puzzles together just for the sake of it. Each dungeon’s architecture gives the impression that they had some other purpose, like maybe they were built in honor of something or maybe the architects had some sense of style. It drives me nuts when game developers just throw some rooms and objects together and just call it a dungeon or a temple. I suppose there are some exceptions like caves and things like that, but we’re supposed to be convinced that someone in the game built these places. Dungeons, amongst other things, should try to feel as natural as possible in order to enhance the player’s immersion and I think Link’s Awakening makes a valiant effort at that. It’s little attention to details like this that can further enclose the player in that 4th wall, if even a little bit. The last thing I want to happen in a game like LA is for me to remember that I’m walking through some level that some developers threw together in an attempt to keep me entertained.

With a relatively mundane dungeon, why not have a relatively mundane boss? The boss for Catfish’s Maw really is as simple as running around in circles until it opens itself up for attacking. Even when you manage to expose its weak point, you have very little time to attack and you can end up hitting the boss’ armor for no reason. This boss is dull, frustrating, and I have nothing more to say about it so let’s move on.

With Catfish’s Maw done, there are only three dungeons left. On a normal playthrough, a player would go straight to Face Shrine, then Eagle’s Tower, then Turtle Rock, but each of these dungeons are technically accessible at this point of the game. There really isn’t much incentive for doing so, but you can beat these dungeons in any order you’d like. Before doing anything though, you need to get a few items first. First, you can head to Face Shrine and snag the level-two Power Bracelet, which can be nabbed early in the dungeon. You also are going to need to visit Crazy Tracy for a potion, which will come in handy for getting to Turtle Rock. You also need to learn the Song of Soul and revive the Flying Rooster, but before that you need to grab the Ocarina from Dream Shrine.

I’ve neglected to talk about the Dream Shrine in Mabe, so it’s probably as a good a time as any to pay it a visit. Dream Shrine is one of the more mysterious yet interesting places in LA; there really isn’t that much said about it in-game. I don’t want to speculate too much, but seeing as how this is a shrine and dreams are heavily associated with the Wind Fish I think this is/was a place of worship to the Wind Fish. You also find the Ocarina here, which is a very important item and could be considered the unnamed ninth instrument of the Sirens because of the important role it plays later on. Again, that explanation is really out there and I can’t be certain of it. The most certain and obvious thing to be said about this shrine is that it’s a dream within a dream. It’s a bizarre place and you get here in a bizarre way; you just fall asleep and end up here in this room with these weird creatures. I really like the remix of Ballad of the Windfish that plays while you’re here, but the other half that completes the atmosphere of this area, I think, is the design of the monsters. The Arm Mimics obviously mimic your movements but they also have these hollowed out faces. I don’t know; I guess something about creatures that have hallowed faces just tend to creep me out the most. This place feels like one of the more ethereal places in the game and mixing all the elements I’ve mentioned just sells this place for me. It’s places like these that really pull me into a game and, for all I know, it may secretly be what draws me into Link’s Awakening so much.

In order to access Turtle Rock and Eagle’s Tower, the player must, of course, ascend Tal Tal Heights. No conversation about LA would be complete without talking about its music and the theme for Tal Tal Heights is certainly no exception. It’s a suburb theme fitting for scaling a mountain, and I would say it’s only rivaled by the Death Mountain themes in ALttP and (most recently) A Link Between Worlds. As much as I love the music, though, I do feel really torn about this area. The level by itself is fine, but the level design seems a bit at odds with the sound design. As I said before, Tal Tal Heights’ theme is great, but you can only hear it when you’re on the outside of the mountain and that means there’s an unfortunate amount of interruptions and resets to the music with so many caves to traverse through. When I’m listening to the music, it feels great to climb the mountain. But every time I need to enter a cave, it feels like the fun is over and it does take me out of the game quite a bit. Everyone remembers this area for its music, so the only ways to remedy this problem, without touching the theme itself, is to remove the caves, let the theme play while in the caves, stretch out the outside levels, or let the theme pause when you enter a cave and then continue from where it stopped when you’re outside again. None of these solutions, however, seem logically, thematically, or technically realistic. This is actually a common problem I find with older games, particularly RPGs. Traversing a certain level could be accompanied by a really great soundtrack that sets the mood of the area and draws the player into the experience. The problem is that something could interrupt before the track finishes its work, which ends up destroying the atmosphere instead. If a player wants to hear the music because it’s good or pulls one into the game’s world, the only solution is to stand perfectly still and not touch the game at all. Many people seem fine with doing this, but I personally think that it defeats the purpose; I don’t see why my enjoyment in making progress in a game and enjoyment in the atmosphere of the same game should have to be dichotomous. I just want to have a cohesive, consistent, and enjoyable experience in gameplay, music, story and aesthetics, which I think is reasonable enough for playing a game. Again, though, finding a solution to all of this isn’t exactly tangible so they just have to be accepted as unfortunate side-effects of classic game design.

What isn’t an unfortunate side-effect is the design of Tal Tal Heights itself. I commented that Tal Tal Heights is fine in and of itself, but the one exception to that statement is the lack of any kind of a shortcut. Scaling Tal Tal Heights can be a long ordeal and, while you can easily make it make down via some ledges, you don’t have any kind of shortcut back up when you make it to the top on your first trip. In other words, if you want to make it back up the mountain, you have to do so the long way every single time. The closest thing to a shortcut that Tal Tal Heights has is a portal outside of Turtle Rock, but you have to make it through half of Turtle Rock to use it and it’s not even that useful anyway. I really think it was a huge mistake in design not to have some kind of shortcut here, especially when other areas do it fine. Tal Tal Heights especially needed a shortcut with how large and convoluted it can feel. Fortunately, there is a little cheat you can use to access Turtle Rock early that may alleviate this design flaw.

The flamethrower blocking the path to Turtle Rock is an instance of the developers railroading players to ensure that they will be able to handle what’s ahead. In this instance, the developers expect you to find the Mirror Shield in Eagle’s Tower and use it to get past the flames. However, if you get a potion and kill yourself, the potion will revive you and the temporary frames of invincibility you are given will allow you to bypass the flames. Again, the developers probably didn’t intend this to be possible, but I’m not one to avoid bypassing lazy and annoying design if I can help it.

Turtle Rock is meant to be the last dungeon the player has to complete, and it really shows as it’s essentially a gauntlet of mini-bosses. Once you’re only four rooms in, you’re up against a Hinox, but since you have a lot of hearts by this point he goes down pretty easy, even easier if you have the upgraded sword or boomerang. The fact that these mini-bosses are so easy really makes them pointless, I think, and the fact that they eventually respawn just makes them a hassle. I can see what the developers were going for with the gauntlet idea, but if these mini-bosses were gone I wouldn’t miss them. Unfortunately, the bad stuff about this dungeon doesn’t end with the mini-bosses: the dungeon itself can feel like a chore to get through at times: there’s a fair bit of trial and error, a lot of dead ends, some annoying enemies, it’s just a tedious level. If it weren’t for some short-cuts that you can find on a whim, I would probably like this dungeon a lot less. The thing I probably hate the most about this dungeon is a well-hidden floor switch that’s tucked away behind a wall with no cracks to show that it can be accessed. You can deduce that there is a hidden room from the map, but you’d have to travel around a lot before you realize it. You need to hit this switch before getting the Magic Rod, but more than likely a player is going to finally reach the room where the Magic Rod is only to be brought to a halt and forced to turn back because there’s a small fence in the way. This is a really low blow to the player and it’s as bad as the level design gets, I think. I guess I’m making Turtle Rock sound like my least favorite dungeon, but I wouldn’t really say that. Turtle Rock is poorly made, but I at least don’t think it’s boring, which can be worse in my opinion. One thing that I do actually like about this dungeon is the floor puzzles you run into: you simply need to fill in the gaps by pressing the directional buttons. They’re simple, but satisfying to solve and what I really like is that you’re rewarded for fully completing them; you usually don’t have to fill in all the gaps to progress, but if you’re clever enough and manage to fill in the gaps, you’re given a bonus treasure for it. I just really like this idea of the game rewarding the player for going above and beyond what’s required of them.

Upon defeating the unique Hinotama boss, he makes a comment in his dying breath in an attempt to persuade the player to not wake up the Wind Fish. The last set bosses of the game make similar comments that can be essentially understood as pleas of mercy. It’s an interesting attempt to make players feel guilty for their actions, as it shows the monsters in a slightly different light. They obviously know of the island being an illusion, but they, like Link, may not be totally certain of it. All the same, though, they don’t want to take the risks of facing certain doom or, as the owl says later, have their plans of domination ruined. They seem determined to prevent the Wind Fish from waking up by guarding the Instruments of the Sirens at all costs. It’s interesting that the Instruments are said to belong to Sirens, seeing as how, in oceanic mythology, Sirens were said to be harbingers of disaster. Basically, when you heard a Siren sing or play music, it was considered a bad omen. It’s possible that this idea may be playing out here with the nightmares and having the Instruments played in front of the Egg would be a sign of the end of the world. It’s also possible that the owl may be exaggerating a bit in his claims about the nightmares, but we can’t ignore that the nightmares may cause a lot of suffering for the islanders if left alone. In that regard, it’s possible to view ending the dream as an act of mercy for the islanders.

And now we come to the dungeon that everybody who’s played LA remembers, the Eagle’s Tower. Eagle’s Tower is probably the most brain-teasing dungeon in the whole game; it’s a relatively large, rather convoluted set of rooms. Your goal is to knock down the four pillars holding up the higher floors, and getting to them with the giant orb really requires you to rack your brains as the tower is basically one big mess of a maze. In fact, it’s so complicated that I still haven’t memorized it. You also have to consider your options pretty carefully as throwing the orb in the wrong area will force you to essentially start over. It’s a noticeable step up in difficulty from the other dungeons, but I don’t dislike it for that; I think it’s a great idea and very refreshing. While this dungeon can take a little while to figure out, I don’t find any of it to be tedious. I think that this is something that every Zelda game should have: just one or two dungeons that really test the player. The player doesn’t necessarily have to get a lot of game overs from tough enemies, but the dungeon itself can just be a glorified maze that has a certain logic involved in solving it. I certainly don’t think that this kind of dungeon should be done on a regular basis in the course of the game, though; having to do several difficult dungeons back to back can be pretty exhausting. I’m all for a challenge in any game I’m playing, but having to deal with several dungeons that are rather convoluted and punishing can crush my enthusiasm for finishing the game. This is actually a problem I had with ALttP, in which getting through several dungeons could feel quite tedious. I have to emphasize, though, having only one dungeon like Eagle’s Tower can be a refreshing challenge and very satisfying; I know that I feel a small sense of accomplishment watching the cutscene showing the whole tower collapse down a floor.

The boss atop of the tower is pretty unique. It has some elements that have been done in the game already, but it’s the execution of these elements that makes it distinct. We’ve already fought the fish boss in a side-scrolling perspective, but there’s no water to impede your movement this time around. This fight can also reset if you fall off the stage, but it’s not quite as grating as Moldorm. The boss himself flies around to attack you or knock you off and you have to rely on careful timing with your attacks. However, if you get the Magic Rod like I did, this fight is a cinch.

With another nightmare down and Instrument obtained, there’s only one dungeon left to tackle, so we’ll get straight to it.

The Face Shrine is meant to be the sixth level in the game, but I have saved it for last, mainly to show that I can, but I also find it appropriate to make this the last dungeon before attempting to wake up the Wind Fish. It only seems appropriate seeing as how it’s nearby the shrine where it’s discovered that Koholint may be only a dream. Face Shrine itself I don’t find particularly interesting. I don’t think it’s as dull as Catfish’s Maw, but at the same time it’s nothing spectacular. I think that it’s a bit cheap that you need the Hookshot to beat the dungeon because it’s used for only one particular section for getting the Nightmare’s Key. It kinda drives me mad because if it wasn’t for this part, I would be able to finish the last three dungeons at a more convenient pace. I suppose that’s a bit petty of me, but closing off several areas to the player simply because they need an item from another dungeon really bugs me. I just don’t think it’s necessary to rely so heavily on items and roadblock players this frequently just so the developers can make sure that they don’t go too far off course. It also doesn’t help that it’s really not that wide of a gap and you would think that Link could make the jump thanks to his new abilities. The most interesting thing I can really say about Face Shrine is about the Pol’s Voices you can find in here. Pol’s voices are nothing new, of course, as you see them earlier in Bottle Grotto, but they’re in great numbers here. They’re immune to sword strikes, so to get rid of them you have to use any pots they may be lying around or use bombs or arrows, but all are in limited supply so killing these things can be a bit of a hassle. However, this method is far superior: try setting the ocarina on Ballad of the WindFish and playing it in front of the Pol’s voices. This is actually a reference to the Famicom version of Zelda 1, which came with a microphone attachment for the second controller port. Yelling into the mic caused the Pol’s voices in that game to die instantly. It’s a nice throwback to the original game, but, since Ballad of the Windfish is the only song that affects them, you also have a sense of world-building for the monsters. Monsters in this game understandably hate the Ballad of the Windfish and Pol’s voices would be affected the most because of their large ears. It shows a remarkable attention to detail and it is attention like this that displays intention on the developers’ part to pull the player into the world they created.

Anyway, since that’s really all I can think to say about this dungeon, I want to take this time to talk about dreams. After all, it seems only appropriate to ponder over dreams since Link here may very well be in one. Regarding the cause of dreams, scientists throughout history have assumed that much of the contribution to dreams are disturbances on the body and mind. Things such as fatigue or changes in environment or temperature during sleep cause the sleeper to encounter phenomenon from the unconscious. In particular, unusual dreams, such as nightmares, can stem from strong disturbances and psychological symptoms. Post-traumatic stress disorder, anxiety, or stress in a person’s life can play a huge role bringing about unusual activity in the brain.

Now there is a lot of activity that occurs in the brain when a dream comes about. While a person sleeps, the sleeper’s brain occasionally undergoes activation without any action or input from the sleeper. In fact, dreams occur when the amygdala of the limbic system activates and the frontal lobe of the brain begins to deactivate. Keep in mind that the amygdala is the center of emotional behavior and the frontal lobe governs all reasoning and logic. Therefore, logic and reality are effectively usurped by emotions and inner desires in the presence of a dream. A worthy note is that in the process of dreaming, the corticolimbic circuits are highly active. The corticolimbic circuits enable learning processes by means of sorting decisions and pattern matching, all of which are vital to the processing of information. During REM sleep, information is processed in the corticolimbic circuits without any input from the external world. All of these findings have given the suggestion that a dream is a result solely of the brain’s inner workings and therefore dreams give reflections of its sleeper’s innermost thoughts and desires that are hidden within the unconscious. What makes this so vital is the fact that our innermost desires and habits form our personality, our very self. According to Carl Jung, humans have no control over their true, inner thoughts, and so dreams do not lie. It would appear, therefore, that dreams replicate and actualize our true, inner self, that which makes us human.

There have been a lot of various forms of studying the unconscious by means of dreamwork. For me, the most interesting aspect of dreamwork is Gestalt therapy. Much of Gestalt therapy is focused on experience when compared to other types of psychoanalysis, such as Freudian or Jungian psychotherapy. The word Gestalt itself refers to “a complete whole that cannot be broken down into its particular parts without losing its essential nature”. So, in other words, each person is holistic and irreducibly complex; there is no part of a person that is more meaningful or better than another and without one part of a person, the whole person simply could not exist (again, it’s irreducibly complex). The goal of Gestalt therapy is to help a person achieve self-awareness and independence by maintaining a balance of everything to do with the self. Understanding dreams plays an especially great role in Gestalt therapy because, unlike Freud’s position of dreams being the royal road to the unconscious, those who hold to Gestalt consider dreams to be “the royal road to integration”, meaning integration of all the parts that form the self. So practically speaking, the goal is to become more aware of and identify one’s self through the dreams of the unconscious. Gestalt therapy places heavy emphasis on role-playing and acting out a dream. Upon describing the dream, the client is to speak about the dream in present tense, laying out the scene and setting of the dream in his/her own mind like it’s a play. After laying out every detail of the dream, including characters and objects, the client then takes the role of every character and object, acting out the entire dream in order to deeply experience every bit of the dream. In a way, the client acts as both director and then actor of the dream in order to identify with the story the dream is expressing. The client projects him/herself into his/her own dream to involve and immerse themselves into their unconscious mind. Now for those of you that have been playing games as long as I have, you are probably familiar with those terms I used: role-playing, projection, and immersion, all of which refer to how we experience games as we play them. I think that in a lot of ways how we play games can compare with how we interpret dreams in Gestalt therapy. Now obviously games aren’t dreams; games don’t originate from our minds; in fact they originate from other people’s minds, the developers. So, if anything, players are experiencing someone else’s “dream,” so to speak. That being said, though, we can still relate to other people’s minds or the things that come from other people’s minds. In the same way, I think our minds can relate to games based on how much we enjoy them. I can play any game, and enjoy it to some extent, then put it down and never pick it up or think about it ever again. But with certain games, like this one, I enjoy on a different level. LA is one of my favorite games and the fact that I can keep playing it without getting tired of it, and enjoy it to the point that I’m willing to make an absurdly long commentary about it, makes me wonder why I enjoy this game and causes me to reflect on myself and why Link’s Awakening and other certain games appeal to me so much. So, in that sense, I can better understand myself through how easily I can project myself in a game. Now I want to clarify that I am not a psychoanalyst in any sense, I am not a psychiatrist, and I am barely a philosopher or theologian. So I encourage you to take everything I am saying with a grain of salt. All the same, though, if you wish to test my little theory, try going back to a game you remember liking a lot and try to think about why you like it so much. I mean, who knows? You might learn something about yourself. Or you might just prove me to be an idiot; what do I know?

There appears to be no boss for Face Shrine until you come to the startling realization that the floor has a face. Something like the boss of Face Shrine is bound to catch a lot of players off guard seeing as how it’s in such a unique style. As unique as this idea is, I’m also a bit surprised to see that this kind of boss had not been done until now. Especially when given the fact that Zelda is done in a top-down perspective, it only makes sense to have an enemy that’s also the floor. It’s not a hard boss by any stretch of the imagination, but it is unique and a bit menacing nonetheless.

With all of the Instruments gathered, access is now granted to the inside of the Wind Fish’s Egg. The inside of the Egg makes no sense at all; having all the pathways and mazes that go absolutely nowhere within or underneath the Egg isn’t really possible, but I think that was the point. If I can get a bit subjective, I imagine all of these pathways as various channels within a dreaming mind. And, of course, only one who is well versed in the dark secrets and mysteries of Koholint, and has good eyesight, knows the way through the maze.
Here we finally come face to face with the boss of nightmares, cleverly and uncleverly called Deth-I. I find it interesting how Deth-I starts off as Link’s shadow underneath before the battle begins. The battle starts off with fighting this rather unexciting black blob. I recall having a hard time figuring out how to damage him on my first playthrough, but I eventually figured out I obviously needed to use magic Powder. After that, the battle starts to pick up with Deth-I changing into something resembling Agahnim, whom anyone who’s played ALttP will remember fairly well. After this, he changes into more familiar faces, Moldorm and even Ganon. LA was meant to be a direct sequel to ALttP with the same Link as the protagonist, so Deth-I seems to be getting into Link’s head a bit by delving into his memories. I think this raises more questions about Koholint being a dream of the Wind Fish. Many players think that Koholint is a dream of the Wind Fish alone, but I am not entirely convinced of this. It is my humble opinion that Koholint is a dream in Link’s mind, or at least a dream that is somehow shared between the minds of Link and the Wind Fish. This would not only explain the appearance of familiar bosses, but it would also explain other parts of the game as well. It would explain Link mistaking Marin for Zelda at the beginning of the game; it would explain Tarin’s resemblance to Link’s uncle; it would explain Kanelet Castle’s resemblance to Hyrule Castle in location and structure; all of this alongside other similarities between LA and ALttP. To be fair, though, we have to consider the account of LA’s original development: From the beginning, LA was planned as a direct port of ALttP to the Game Boy, which would immediately serve as an alternate explanation for all the similarities. That being said though, I don’t think it’s out of the realm of possibility that the team began to have some intention of implementing all these similar elements to create a story and give an impression that Koholint is Link’s dream formed from his memories. One final bit of evidence to support my theory is the change of Link’s name to THIEF during the course of the game.

I want to step back in time a bit to when I stole the Bow from the shopkeeper. If you manage to sneak out with any item, a blurb of text will appear that makes you feel guilty and anytime your name is supposed to be mentioned in the game the word THIEF shows up instead. I don’t know about you, but when the name that I put in to name my character is replaced by a word like THIEF in all capital letters, I start to feel a bit disconcerted. I don’t think I have ever experienced a more subtle, permanent, and disturbing way of being punished in a game than by replacing my name with something as demeaning as THIEF. I’m not joking when I say that it blows my mind every time I see it. It’s never explained why this happens in the game’s world, but if we assume that Link’s mind has some part in forming Koholint then we can explain this by saying that maybe Link’s conscience is getting to him. His unconscious mind, represented by everything that he’s hallucinating, is accusing him and Link can’t find any way to escape it, so to him everyone labels him as a THIEF. So based on all of this I think it’s safe and interesting to assume that Koholint is as much a part of Link’s mind as it is the Wind Fish’s. I think it also makes it that little more relatable to the player since the game acts as a dream the player is having himself by playing and enjoying the game.

After beating all the nightmare’s illusions, we fight Deth-I’s true and final form. I really like the design with clock-like arms. It makes the battle essentially a game of jump-rope as you shoot arrows into his exposed eye. There probably should be more for me to say about this boss, but honestly what more can I say? It’s the final boss, so I usually go on and one-shot him with the boomerang and move on to end the game.

With the last of the nightmares defeated, the player can now ascend to another plane of the Wind Fish’s mind. I like the look of the place and the design of the Wind Fish because it’s at this point where it’s pretty obvious that the player is in something that’s not quite reality. I find the Wind Fish’s last few lines of dialogue to be rather telling of what the developers were going for with the game’s rather bizarre plot. The Wind fish says,

“Long has been my slumber. In my dreams, an egg appeared and was surrounded by an island, with people, animals, an entire world! But, verily, it be the nature of dreams to end! When I dost awaken, Koholint will be gone. Only the memory of this dream land will exist in the waking world. Someday, thou may recall this island.”

The part where he says “thou may recall this island” is what’s most telling to me. I find this telling because it relates directly to the player’s own situation; the player has just beaten the game, he’s defeated all the bosses, and completed his goal, and in the back of his mind he knows the game is coming to an end, as is the nature of games. Games must end eventually. This goes back to what I said earlier about games being comparable to dreams in how we experience and relate to them. With the adventure completed, the dream is over; the player awakens and comes back to reality. Even with the dream over, however, the player can still recall and ponder over his experience and see what can be learned from it. Or he may simply recall the fun or wackiness that he was involved in. As the Wind fish says in-game, the memory of the dream, so to speak, still exists in our minds and is left for us to recall out of nostalgia.

It’s funny I bring up nostalgia here, because this goes back to the story of the Nostalgia Ghost, whom you’ll remember was overwhelmed with nostalgia as he saw his home. Everything was left as he remembered it and he was able to find closure and peace in recalling his experiences. I’d even argue that he was expressing thankfulness for being given the opportunity to have those experiences, for better or worse.

With everything said and done, the time has come to wake up and put an end to this illusion.

Actually, it turns out that the game doesn’t end quite there. After playing the Song of Awakening, we’re treated to this cutscene of Link waking up in the middle of the ocean. Once he looks up, he sees that the Wind Fish is, apparently, a real entity in his world. I assume that this cutscene was supposed to imply that maybe the “dream” was “real” to some extent and maybe the game wanted to give the player a sense of hope that everything he saw wasn’t a total sham. To be perfectly honest, this cutscene has never really sat well with me; I suppose it’s a bit too grandiose, for lack of a better term. What I mean to say is that the developers seemed to want you to feel a certain way at the end of the game, like they needed a happy ending to close out on. They even close the game with this grand, epic, and victorious medley that plays over the credits. I really don’t think it was a good idea to conclude the game in this typical sort of fashion especially when you consider the game’s themes, because the ending is really not supposed to be uplifting; if anything, it’s supposed to be bittersweet and perplexing. There’s nothing triumphant about reality setting in as an illusion slowly dissipates. In case it wasn’t obvious by this point, I consider LA to be a thought-provoking game and to see it close out like this is a bit off-putting. Personally, I think it would have been more appropriate and more interesting to end the game right after Link is shot up by the pillar of water because at that point the dream is over anyway. I just think it would have been appropriate to have the player switch the power off at that moment, and wake up from the dream, so to speak; it may have even lent a bit more weight to the messages we saw earlier about Koholint popping like a bubble on a needle or crashing like the sea, as the game would just shut off suddenly as soon as the player flips the off switch. As it is now, though, the ending just feels inappropriately happy.

I hate to leave my thoughts on LA on such a negative note, so I want to re-emphasize how great of game I consider LA to be. It’s pretty obvious that I’m quite nostalgic for this game, and I admit my nostalgia might keep me from seeing its flaws. Even so, I consider LA to be a masterpiece of a game regardless. It’s a somewhat messier game than it’s predecessor, but I think its good qualities and ambition manage to outshine its flaws and make LA a game worth remembering fondly. With all that said, if you stuck it out for this whole commentary, I thank you sincerely. I hope you enjoyed reading my commentary, my prayers are always with you, and I’ll see you around.

Augustus CB