I've been sick for the past two weeks and the thought level on my blog has dipped accordingly. It turns out I caught a very severe case of the flu along with a secondary bronchitis infection. Being sick, however, left me with a lot of time on my hands and the capacity to do very little with it. It's hard to read N.T. Wright's "The Resurrection of the Son of God" when you might barf any second and all you've been able to eat for the past two days has been ginger ale and crackers. That left me wracking my brain for what I used to do when I was this sick 15 years ago (Yes, I have not been this sick in the last 15 years!). The answer was what any boy my age did: play video games. So I fished around in the storage closet and brought out my old Super Nintendo. In went the "The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past;" quite possibly the best video game ever made.
The ensuing journey into my childhood explains all the art on my blog recently. The images track the evolving concept of "Link" down through the years. We all remember "Ocarina of Time," when Link finally got pants. Of course, he lost them again for "Majora's mask." "The Windwaker," however, restored his leggings and they've been stock-in-trade ever since. The most recent incarnation of "Zelda's" protagonist seems to be influenced by the gritty realism of Peter Jackson's adaptation of "The Lord of the Rings." It's interesting to watch a beloved character age with you.
For an entire generation of men (being a man, I only presume to speak for men here), "The Legend of Zelda" series was a key formative element in our creative imaginations. It taught us the value of heroism, and standing up for what's right. In an age of concrete wastelands and demystification, it brought back a sense of wonder. Tolkien would come later, and baptize my imagination, but it was green-clad Link exploring the glades and hills of Hyrule with his sword and shield that first awoke it.
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The Legend of Zelda and Tolkien were near simultaneous for me, I think, but I read Tolkien so very young (possibly before I learned to swim, and my parents had a pool) that I didn't enjoy it all that much at first. I sort of convinced myself I did, because I knew I was supposed to, since my older brothers loved him. And I didn't see any reason why I wouldn't -- back then, I thought being old enough to understand a book only had to do with general reading proficiency, not emotional maturity. At any rate, despite all that, I was fortunate to grow up inundated with all kinds of heroic role models, from Link to fairy tales to fantasy to classic children's books -- so although I can't point at Zelda as particularly formative, I suppose that's just because it was one of so many.
One woman's point of view (albeit partially shaped by four of her seven brothers)...