Most Zelda fans would say that the Triforce was/is equally divided between the three vassals, I agree. Each of the forces balanced each other, one couldn’t defeat another. But, this balance was tipped by the alignment of Wisdom and Courage. Working together, and only together, could they defeat the third entity, Power. The battle was ferocious, leaving behind the destructed Hyrule Castle. From this, logic would lead one to believe that each force has its own advantages, this is also true. Recently, I tripped upon a thread that disagreed with this theory. It stated that Link was given the worst piece of the Triforce; I intend to make it the topic of this Odolwa’s Table to disprove that assumption.

First of all, let’s look at the Triforce itself, and I mean the geometric shape of it (sharpen your geometry terminology!). It’s an equilateral, equiangular triangle, meaning each side is the same length, and each angle measures the same (60 degrees). Now look at the construction: Each side is bisected by a line that also bisects another side. Meaning that the three triangles formed from it are also, equilateral, equiangular triangles (Brain going by now, or have you given up? Read it several times, you’ll get it). So, when those three pieces brake off, each vassal is given an equal share. Is this coincidence with the fact that each Triforce piece is balanced? I think not…

Now, let’s look at the people behind the pieces, Princess Zelda, Link, and Ganon (-dorf). Link, is a fearless youth with a mysterious past and a courageous heart, a perfect candidate for the Triforce of Courage. Zelda, is a smart, beautiful young woman who is soon to lead her nation of Hyrule, she requires the Triforce of Wisdom for her future. Ganon is a desert being, who thrives off of other people’s misfortune, and he seeks power in all places. These three people balance each other; Wisdom cannot take action without Courage, Courage cannot be strong willed without Power, and Power cannot rule without Wisdom. This is a delicate balance that when broken can prove disastrous (the great flood; the absence of Courage).

Next, we take observation of the pros and cons of each piece. The Triforce of Wisdom grants the user access to magic and intelligence unheard of, but doesn’t give long life or valor. The Triforce of Wisdom is passed on by generation, as all normal wisdom is. The Triforce of Power grants the user magic and long life, this is offset by the fact that the user is transfigured into a hideous beast. This beast is worthy of no respect or allegiance, and results in a weakening of true power. The Triforce of Courage gives the Hero valor beyond that of any being in the world. With the aid of Wisdom, Courage can destroy any combatant that approaches him. Also, Courage is hard to pinpoint and destroy; as it moves to the next person who is the most courageous after the last person dies. Valor can be found in the oddest of places. Like the other three pieces of the Triforce, Courage does grant the user magic abilities, as the Triforce itself is the ultimate magical object in the universe of Hyrule.

So, this intricate and delicate balance is tainted by power’s hunger for more. Ultimately, Courage and Wisdom must unite to defeat Power. The since, Courage and Wisdom seek no power; the world is safest when they exist peacefully and Power is exiled.

Thus, Link got one of the three balanced pieces of the Triforce. Courage gives him the fearlessness required to defeat his enemies, overcome the dark shadow of twilight, and ultimately defeat Ganon (Power).

In conclusion: It is completely ignorant to say that Link got the short end of the stick, or has a disadvantage to Ganon or Zelda. They all have weaknesses and strengths, and are all intricately balanced. Think about it and understand it, and above all, never question the balance of good and evil again. It’s a grey utopia people, and it’s not hard to understand. The extremes of good are still just as problematic as the extremes of evil…

In commenting on last week’s article, forumer KokiriSweetie said, “I always wanted to know how they came up with the triforce for the Zelda line of games.” And then she said this: “Now it prolly all leads us to the question: “Why did they use that in Zelda?!” It’s weird, but very informative.” And that is a good question. Why did they use the Hojo crest in the Zelda games?

The Hojo Crest in Graphic Design

Last time, I showed that the symbol we now know as the “Triforce” was originally a sort of a Japanese coat of arms, used to mark the possessions and buildings of the Hojo family. And we learned that it has the shape it does because of a legend involving one of the members of the Hojo family and the family dragon god. We saw how the Hojo family rose to great power, and achieved great prominence in the Japanese culture’s sense of their past. Most importantly, we saw that as a result, the Hojo crest began to appear all over the place, from family crests based on the previous Hojo family crests to publisher seals and finally, in modern times, as elements of graphic design.

And now what? Now that the Hojo crest is such a common symbol in Japanese graphic design, have people forgotten its significance? This is important, because if their significance is not widely recognized, then Nintendo could have merely drawn on the symbol from seeing its presence throughout Japanese society, whether consciously or subconsciously. But if the significance is relatively well known, then the symbol may well have an impact on the Zelda game itself.

It is true that symbols are important in our society-and that’s because we’re all human. In the United States, where I live, if a company logo has an eagle (for instance, Federal Express or American Airlines), chances are that it is associated with America. In other words, symbols intrinsically have particular connotations. But the question in this case is, just how deep-seated is the association? For instance, there is a North American company that uses a “Triforce” symbol, but the intention is to associate the shape with the Greek letter delta (D)-it doesn’t have any connection to the samurai of Japan. Or to take another example, how many people really know that a common symbol for medicine (the caduceus) is derived from the Classical deity of Asclepius? Not too many.

As it turns out, samurai crests are not only common in Japanese graphic design, but more critically, people do appreciate their original cultural significance, as the Encyclopedia of Japan points out. In other words, Nintendo was well aware of what the symbol meant when they chose it for the Triforce. However, despite all this, the shape of the Triforce really doesn’t tell us anything about Zelda . . .

Simply put, the mere fact that people can appreciate the symbol’s cultural significance doesn’t mean that the history behind the crest must play any kind of detailed role in its new context. When you see the crest used as a logo for a Japanese company, we can’t assume that they’re implying any kind of detailed connection. So the simple answer is that no, there isn’t any real similarity between the Triforce and the Hojo crest, other than their appearance.

In fact, Davogones of one of our affiliates, has already pointed out something similar with respect to another symbol that appeared in the first game-the “swastika.”. The shape is called a sun wheel, and it’s actually a universal symbol. Meaning, it arose independently all across the globe, and what it meant depended on where it was found (for instance, in Old Norse religion, it was probably connected to the Alfar or Elves). And of course, the sun wheel did indeed arise in Japan as well. It’s known as the “manji.” In Zelda, it happens to symbolize the Manji Labyrinth. Does this mean anything? Not really. As Davogones rightly brings up, “If the manji symbolizes good fortune, what has this got to do with a labyrinth in LoZ? Labyrinths represent challenge, travails, and evil creatures (labyrinths 6 and 7 are symbolized by a Dragon and a Demon). If the manji is taken to symbolize a Buddhist temple, where does this fit in? The third labyrinth of LoZ is not a religious edifice. It is likely that Nintendo Co. Ltd. chose to simply use a familiar symbol in Japan, not intending it to symbolize anything in the game.”

That’s a good assessment indeed! Likewise with the Triforce, the concept of the Triforce doesn’t have roots in the concept of the Hojo crest, even though the shape would be appreciated culturally. The concept of the Triforce derives from . . . wait for it . . . gameplay! Wow, what a revelation! It’s a fantasy game, so they decided to use a mystical artifact, and so you have to collect all these pieces of it, and bring it together and then you can fulfill your quest. It’s all very typical. That is the origin of the concept of the Triforce. Last week’s article only told about the origin of the art of the Triforce, not anything beyond that. Try not to extrapolate beyond that.

(Of course, later on there are added layers having to do with goddesses and so forth, but we all know these are later developments in the formation of the Zelda story. In any event, these layers only serve to further differentiate the Hojo crest from the Triforce.)

From Tolkien

Actually, there’s a bigger reason why it doesn’t really mean anything for the game itself. And that’s the fact that the Zelda games don’t derive much from Japanese lore, especially not the first games. Apart from a few graphic design elements, Zelda is very much set in a Medieval European fantasy world. This is something that will be developed in the next “Origins” article, but it’s something to keep at the back of your mind for now. For one thing, the game is an RPG, and the RPG comes from Lord of the Rings, as I mentioned briefly in this article. The game doesn’t change that. The medieval-fantasy “culture,” if you will, permeates the game through and through. Link himself looks rather like a cross between Robin Hood and a Tolkienian woodland elf, what with his green outfit and cross-emblazoned shield. In short, we shouldn’t expect much Japanese influence at all for most of the Zelda games (I say “most” primarily because The Wind Waker is a break from tradition in some ways-and I’m not referring to the art style). They’re simply too grounded in Tolkienian, Dungeons & Dragons, medieval-type fantasy.

What Now?

Thus concludes the first set of articles on the origins of Zelda. I started off the series by mentioning Hyrule’s roots in Middle Earth. Then I made a warning against being too hasty to jump to conclusions about the origins of particular elements in the games. Later, I added an article to emphasize even further how dangerous it was to jump to such conclusions, by pointing out how different Japanese culture is from our Western culture. And now we’ve looked at our first case study, the symbol of the Triforce. Now we’re ready to get into what I consider the “real deal,” the meat of the series. The “Origins” series of articles will now take much closer look at the Zelda games themselves . . .

The Triforce. Many Zelda fans have long pondered the origins of this strange symbol. Until now. This is the saga of the symbol we now call the Triforce…

Beginnings

Image from Numata, Raisuke, Nihon monshogaku, Tokyo: Meiji Shoin, Showa 3, 1928.

The saga begins in Medieval Japan. Or more specifically, the Kamakura Period. The political situation in Medieval Japan was rather chaotic, as various ruling families jockeyed for power. In such a situation, the warrior was a very important part of society. In this case, the samurai. We must remember that the samurai were not quite what most people tend to think of them today (for instance, as being death machines superior to their equivalents in other parts of the world), but they were indeed skilled with the blade. But when samurai clashed on the battlefield, how would they know who was fighting on which side? The mon.

What’s a “mon?” Quite simply, it’s the family crest. It’s not unlike the heraldry that the European knights had, although the Japanese mon were generally much simpler and aesthetically cleaner in design. The mon was used to identify the samurai’s possessions (for instance, take a look at the markings on the clothing in the image above). Of course, perhaps the most important place for the mon was a flag to be carried into battle.

As it turns out, the design that we know as the triforce was actually the crest of the Hojo family. The Hojo family was a prominent family in Medieval Japan, and actually took over the country in the 13th century, bringing about relative peace and prosperity. But then, a dark shadow crept over the land . . .

The Mongols. The Mongols had the greatest army in the world. They captured vast amounts of territory, sweeping from China and Russia all the way through the Middle East and even into Central Europe. When the Mongols conquered China, they turned their eyes to the east-Japan. If it was not for Hurricane Kamikaze, there is little doubt that the Mongols would have won. But in any event, it would fall into the hands of the Hojo family to lead Japan’s defense against the Mongol invasion. This was their day for glory.

The Hojo family, then, was a very important family in the history of Japan. It is only natural then, that their crest would achieve special prominence too. But the question remains: why did the Hojo family use those three triangles? The answer is . . .

. . . Shintoism, a religion still very prevalent in Japan today. The Hojo family crest has the shape that it does because of the family dragon god, the guardian deity of fishermen. According to legend, Tokimasa Hojo (1138-1215) came into a cave on Enoshima, an island south of modern Tokyo. There he prayed that his descendants would be prosperous. And the dragon god, who dwelt in that cave-and there is a statue of the dragon in the cave today-granted him his wish, leaving behind 3 of his scales. These are the scales that are represented in the three triangles of the “Triforce” of the Hojo.

Towards the Present

And so the Hojo family made their mark on Japanese history. In turn, their family crest became ingrained into the Japanese culture. And thus, we find later crests that are based off of the original dragon-scale crest, as you can see below.

Image from Tsumao, Awasaka, Kamon no hanashi uwaeshi ga kataru monsho no bi, Tokyo: Shinchosha, 1997.

And the dragon-scale crest (and by the way, it’s also associated with fish scales) continued beyond even that. A 19th century publisher’s seal applied to Ukiyo-e paintings, for instance, consisted of the three triangles inscribed in a circle. Even today, the “Triforce” appears all over Japanese society. You find it on everything from company logos to souvenirs. And it comes as no surprise, since the aesthetically beautiful symbols of the samurai have found their place in modern Japanese graphic design. These symbols are, in fact, meaningful even to the Japanese in their modern context.

Conclusion

And so we can trace the history of the Triforce symbol from three dragon scales to the symbol of a mighty family to the motif in Japanese graphic design to the Zelda games themselves.. But does this really have any significance for the Zelda games? Check back next week to find out . . .

P.S. If you’d like to take a look at the Dragon-scale mon on a temple from the Kamakura region (linking it to the Hojo family, of course!), click here. And while you’re at it, can you spot the symbol in this picture?

A New Vision

Miyamoto isn’t responsible for the shift from the style and tone of the original Spaceworld demo for GameCube to the style and tone of The Wind Waker. Aonuma is. Ultimately, the shift was Aonuma’s idea. But Miyamoto loved the idea, and understandably so. His original vision, as that child in the cave, was indeed a vision of pure childhood, vibrant and untouched by the cares of the world. As I have said before, The Wind Waker truly reflects that fresh spirit, the spirit of adventure, naiveté, and general light-heartedness. It portrays that dualism between light and dark, good and evil, with stark simplicity (and yet at the same time brings a new gentleness to even Mr. G himself). If the Hero of Time is “cooler” and more confident and mysterious, the Hero of Winds is more childlike than many real children themselves.

But ultimately, we must remember that the style of The Wind Waker is really reflecting Miyamoto’s original vision. Miyamoto’s later vision, after the creation of the first Zelda game, was a bit different. I’m sure that when he had his original idea for the Zelda series, it didn’t begin with picturing how the graphics would look. But when he sat down to design it, the idea evolved from that original, unfettered vision. That’s what happens to all of us when we begin to work through the creative process. Indeed, the games have taken on far more complex layers than would have existed otherwise. Well, back in the days of the 2-D Zelda games, he, being the visionary that he is, was already picturing what the game would look like when and if technology could bring it into the 3-D realm. Way back when the Spaceworld demo was being shown, Miyamoto stated that he had always imagined Zelda as looking like Ocarina of Time. Now they only needed to progress the series more. But there’s the catch. Although the spirit of Miyamoto’s moment of inspiration, the basic concept that started it all, is most captured in The Wind Waker, Ocarina of Time is stylistically what Miyamoto had envisioned in the first place. And so The Wind Waker marks a slight shift in a new direction, a direction that Miyamoto did not instigate but embraced because it was close to his heart.

The Voice of the Fans

The Wind Waker is also a mirror into the minds of another group of individuals. The fans. Again, back when the Spaceworld demo was still being shown, Miyamoto admitted to browsing fan sites. How he might view an English site as this, I’m not sure. But it’s clear that Miyamoto is somehow more connected with the Zelda fan base than before. What does he read on the internet? I’m sure he’s seen the countless speculations, especially the discussion of continuity theories. And I have a sneaking suspicion that The Wind Waker reflects this. Note the greater attention to plot. Note the greater attention to explicit connections with other Zelda games, and especially to how they’re related by time. Pay attention to the explicit delineation of a Link who isn’t the same Link as the one in the previous games. Notice the attempts to smooth out the continuities-for instance, including a massive deluge to deal with the problem of a Hyrulian geography that changes from game to game. Part of this, no doubt, is part of a larger trend in gaming. But although I couldn’t prove it for certain, I think the game shows evidence of influence from the fans in an indirect way.

Conclusion

The Wind Waker is at once traditional and yet at the same time continues the evolution of the series. It’s a mirror of the mind of Miyamoto, in a way he never knew until Aonuma brought the idea to his mind. And it just may well be a mirror of the minds of the fans, reflecting their concerns for such things as continuity between the games. Whatever the case may be, we can expect the future games to keep this trend, at least for a while. That certainly isn’t a bad thing.* We’ll still be able to continue exploring the vibrant, youthful lands of Link’s world. And just think, rather than the sailing the vast expanses of the sea, we’ll get to traverse vast areas of land next time!

* On the other hand, it does mean that we probably won’t see a game that approaches the brilliance of my favorite game of all time, Majora’s Mask.

A Culture Apart

For millennia, the great land of Japan, isolated from the rest of the world, developed a strong martial culture. The millennia of isolation and development created what seems to us a peculiar nation. As my Japanese American professor from last semester pointed out, when World War II rolled around, they were more fascist and xenophobic than even the Germans. But more importantly, Japanese society had an incredible amount of cohesion. In 1912, the Japanese government went into the middle of the forest and opened up a storehouse which hadn’t been opened since 1200. It was filled with gold and precious things. But the peculiar thing is that there was no lock on the door and no guards. Completely untouched. And yet everyone knew it was there. This speaks to a kind of cohesion that can be seen nowhere else. Well, World War II rolled around, and the Allies found themselves facing a foe unlike anything they had faced before. Kill 10% of British or American unit, and its efficiency drops by over 50%. Kill 90% of a Japanese unit, and it can still kill you. Indeed, Japanese parents told their sons, “Come back dead.”

But we all know how World War II ended. And the Allied occupation of Japan did have an impact on Japanese culture. Most relevant to Nintendo fans, Mario himself was created in honor of a Westerner who lived in Japan. Now the country is an industrial superpower linked to the rest of the world. Yet what the millennia of isolationism had built did not truly crumble away; Japanese society is still very, very different from our own. Even in the early 80’s and 90’s, the Japanese wanted to purify the labor pool, and so actually recruited Japanese living in Brazil to work in Japan (yet imagine their horror when the new immigrants turned out to speak Portuguese and like salsa and Latin music).

The Japanese concept of social relations is very foreign to us. My Japanese American professor remembered his aunt telling her two daughters,”If you have an illegitimate child, first I’ll kill the child, and then you, and then myself” (and she was dead serious). He also told of how his own mother would say, “The nail that sticks up should be hammered down.” Conformity and obeying orders is absolutely a part of the Japanese way of thinking. In social science terms, it is the primacy of the group over the individual. When Miyamoto spoke of how first person shooter games are liked “by people in the West,” his preconception that Japan and the West are very different is not trivial in the least!

Japan and Zelda

OK. So, Japanese culture is very different. But what does that have to do with Zelda? For one thing, many aspects of Japanese culture can be seen in even some of the most basic aspects of the games. For instance, one of the aspects of Japanese culture is a sort of circle-dance of gift giving. In other words, if I were to do a good deed for you, or were to give you a gift, our culture would demand that you repay me back with another gift. (For those of you who know ancient history, this is an exact match of the “client-patron” relationship seen in the Roman world). Sound familiar? This very thing is a critical aspect of the Zelda series, and it’s an aspect that I’ve seen many American Zelda newbies stumble on because they don’t realize that helping people out yields gifts.

Another important point for Zelda fans to be aware of is that the Japanese traditionally think of time as circular, unlike Westerners who think of time as linear. *Hint hint* But we’ll talk about that later. The main thing I’m concerned with for now is pointing out, once again, that the Japanese origins make it more difficult to determine exactly what the origins are for the various elements of the Zelda world. This means that when people tell me that such-and-such element of the games is derived from some aspect of some other obscure culture, or that “the deeper meaning” of a Zelda game is found in some Western literary source, I have my doubts.

On the other hand, the games are overall not modeled after Japan but after a sort of European medieval world. We will later see why this is, but for now just notice that the overall tone of all the games has been European rather than Japanese. The Wind Waker is the most Japanese of the games thus far.

It gets even more difficult when we realize that the game has changed by the time it falls into the hands of English-speakers. The process of change is known as “localization.” This is key. If it was simply a matter of translating text, it would be known as merely “translation.” Of course, the software has to be adapted to the regional hardware, but in addition to that, noticable changes must be made to the game so that it makes sense to Western gamers. An extreme example of this would be Animal Crossing, which involved changing entire in-game holidays in the process of localization. And indeed, there are many specifically Western elements to the games that are probably a result of localization.

Conclusion

In later weeks, we will take looks at specific orgins of Zelda. But I will not begin with “the deep stuff.” For that becomes difficult when you realize that the game is a product of a culture worlds apart from that of the modern West.

A Bold Assertion

I’m making a bold assertion. I’m telling you that The Wind Waker is probably a more accurate reflection of Miyamoto as an artist and as a man than any Zelda game before it. When I talked about what I like or don’t like about the new game, I was speaking in subjective terms. I don’t need to justify subjective statements like, “Controlling gulls is incredible gameplay.” But this time my assertion at least purports to be objective. And yet, how can I be objective when I’m dealing with another man’s psychology? I can’t crawl inside Miyamoto’s brain and see exactly how it works. In that case, why would you believe me when I make a statement about his mind? What gives me the right, per se, to make an assertion about someone else from some other culture?

Clearly, my assertion is guesswork. But it is an educated guess. And so you ask, “Why do you say it’s an educated guess, Trahald?” First, there is some good data that we have in the form of things that Miyamoto has said through a translator. I will get to that in a moment. Second, I can identify with him in certain ways. Now, I am in no way claiming to have any of his greatness or genius in creativity. That would be terribly inaccurate and arrogant of me to make such a claim. However, I can identify with him in certain respects. Miyamoto tends to gather his ideas for games from ordinary places and activities. For instance, as is well known, gardening was the inspiration for Pikmin. And yet his games take that ordinary activity and place and transform it into something magical that inspires wonder. From various interviews with Miyamoto over the years, I have formed this picture of him as an imaginative man who does not view the world around him in the same way that most do. It is in that respect that I can identify with him. When I look at the plants beneath my feet, I don’t simply see them as little flowers and blades of grass placidly waving in the breeze. I see them as whole jungles, worlds full of little creatures that scamper about. And even the flowers can sometimes seem veritably alive as the animals are. When I see a thicket or a forest, I see it as a shadowy world waiting to be explored. I love to wander the woods and rivers to discover what creatures might live around each bend. When I was a child, I preferred playing with a napkin over playing with cars and trucks? Why? Because I could manipulate that napkin and shape it into whatever I wanted it to be, and that granted me greater freedom to take creativity to places it couldn’t go if I played with a static, manufactured toy. While I cannot even touch Miyamoto’s greatness, I can still identify with him as a person in some regards. Of course, my glimpses into his personality have come not only through interviews, but also the games themselves. The art can tell us much about the artist. But my point is that since I can understand on a personal level some of what Miyamoto says, I have at least some basis for making an educated guess as to how well The Wind Waker reflects the man.

The Mind of Miyamoto

We do have more concrete data as to why The Wind Waker may be the best mirror of Miyamoto’s mind. Miyamoto said that the inspiration for Zelda came as he walked into a cavern as a child. Only courage could allow a child to venture alone into a cavern potentially filled with monsters. When most people see a cave, they see a geological formation. When Miyamoto sees a cave, he sees The Legend of Zelda. Of course, Zelda became much more than simply a courageous young boy venturing into a dark cave. But the overarching theme has remained: a young boy propelled on by courage and the thrill of exploration and discovery. There is an immense contrast between the boy and the cave. The boy is innocent and almost ignorant of what danger lurks in the shadows. The cave is dark and frightening. Now think back to the Spaceworld images of a realistic Link. That Link was an adult. His ears were pierced. He had lost that innocence and childlike wonder in his face. He was dark and gritty. Miyamoto saw that, and realized that the series had gone too far. Of course, he also argued that this Link made the Zelda games too much like that of its imitators. A cel-shaded game would be something new. Uniqueness is important to the heart of many artists. But critically, notice that he said that the series was going in the wrong direction. Indeed, the realistic style was a continuation of Majora’s Mask and Ocarina of Time. In Ocarina of Time, adult Link did look much the same, even though he was much simpler graphically. And Majora’s Mask was certainly a darker game. The Spaceworld style only seemed to draw out the dark, gritty side of the game, especially with regard to the “innocent hero.” This is something Miyamoto did not like. Think of his strong beliefs in morals in games. Think of how he emphasizes that “fun” is something that should be appropriate for the entire family; he certainly has no fondness for games like Grand Theft Auto III.

So, Miyamoto wanted to stop the trend and bring it back to its roots. He wanted to bring it back to the idea of the boy in the cave. The result? The Wind Waker. Miyamoto said that people would understand why the graphics are the way they are if they played the game. Having played it, I would agree with him. The hero is now innocent and childlike. Anything about Link or any of the marvelous places he visits glistens with a happiness and wonder not entirely unlike that of the Mario games (although more grounded in “reality,” as it were). Yet when the forces of darkness (the cavern, if you will) come on to the scene, the game shifts dramatically in mood and form. In this way, the game reflects Miyamoto’s vision perhaps more accurately than its predecessors.

The Mind of Aonuma

But The Wind Waker does not only reflect the mind of Miyamoto. I have titled this article “Mirror of the Minds” for a reason. The game also reflects its director, Eiji Aonuma, who was also the director of Majora’s Mask. One of the best aspects of Majora’s Mask was the believable, complex system of relationships that existed among the characters as the three days progressed. Character interaction was taken to an entirely new level. Perhaps this was actually the brainchild of Miyamoto or of some other underling, so it is merely an educated guess to say that this was something that Aonuma brought into the game. It does not seem like something that Miyamoto would think of to emphasize. In The Wind Waker, the relationships are sadly not as complex as they were in Majora’s Mask, but this is no doubt due to the lack of the three day cycle (although the lunar cycle somewhat makes up for it). Nonetheless, the depth of character interaction that was a hallmark of Majora’s Mask takes a very prominent role in The Wind Waker.

Conclusion

The Wind Waker is the product of many, many people. We cannot ascribe its every attribute to its creator alone. But on the whole, the new game, primarily through the cel-shading technology, seems to be a very accurate reflection of Miyamoto’s vision of games and of the world around him. It could also be guessed that the game is also a mirror of the mind of the director, Aonuma. You may not enjoy this mirror of Miyamoto’s and Aonuma’s minds, but that doesn’t change the fact that the new game seems to be a truer reflection of its artists than all the rest.

Picasso meets Zelda

So, the main question is this: how can we tell if something is influenced by a certain something else, or if the two things in question are simply coincidentally alike? It is actually surprisingly difficult to answer that question, even if the answer might seem obvious at first glance. To see exactly what I mean, let’s take a quick look at the world of academia. Pablo Picasso is widely credited with being a major factor in the development of modern art. One of his more famous paintings is the 1907 piece called Les Demoiselles d’Avignon. The curious thing about the work is that the faces of some of the women in the painting look quite different from what you would expect in European art. According to records, Picasso visited a museum that displayed African art before he completed the painting, and an examination of some of the artifacts in that museum reveals a striking resemblance between some of the African masks and the faces of the women in the painting. Picasso denied that his faces were influenced by African art. However, scholars later found that Picasso actually collected African art in his home, adding to the evidence that he was most certainly influenced by African works, even if subconsciously. Scholars now agree that the African masks influenced Picasso, despite the artist’s denials.

What does Picasso have to do with Zelda? Picasso said that the resemblance between the faces and the masks was pure coincidence. The scholars say that it was not coincidence. Despite Picasso’s denials, we seem to have a clear cut case of what influenced what, but in other cases the answer is not so clear. There are other pieces of modern art that seem to be very directly related to African works of art, and yet scholars agree that the resemblance is simply coincidence. Determining exactly why two things are alike can turn into quite the confusing mire. Such is the case with the Legend of Zelda. To use an example, let us turn to Majora’s Mask.

Case Study: Real Transformation Masks

In Majora’s Mask, the transformation masks enabled Link to become someone else. If we look at African masks again, we will see that some of the cultures in Africa believe in a kind of transformation mask. These cultures have no visible government but are ruled instead by a kind of “club.” The members in the club are allowed to wear certain masks that represent spirits or dead ancestors. When the people wear the mask, no matter who they are in real life, they are believed to transform into the thing the mask is representing. As a result, everyone they encounter is supposed to act as if the wearer is really the spirit or the ancestor, for the mask grants the wearer great authority in their society. Clearly we have a kind of parallel between the beliefs of certain African cultures and a major component of the gameplay in Majora’s Mask. However, does that mean that Nintendo borrowed its ideas of transformation masks from those African cultures? It would be easy to jump to the conclusion that just because the two ideas are strikingly similar, Nintendo really did borrow from the religious ideas of those cultures. A closer examination reveals that it is not so likely. Nintendo probably simply realized that it would be fun to play as a race such as a Goron or a Zora. Naturally they needed to explain just how this could be done, and their solution was to use transformation masks. It probably had nothing to do with the masks of those African cultures, especially given how relatively obscure that information is.

Conclusion

It’s easy to look at something in the games and say, “Aha! I know where they got that idea from!” We might look at the art, the gameplay mechanics, the puzzles, characters, or story, and quickly come to conclusions about just where they came from originally. However, we should not be so hasty, to quote Treebeard. If scholars are able to avoid mistakes by carefully examining these sorts of things, we too should not be so quick to adamantly declare where Nintendo got its ideas. As I have shown with the example of the transformation masks, the issue is more complex than it might seem at first glance. In the coming months, I will write articles every now and then looking at possible specific influences on the Legend of Zelda. Until then, send off any comments you might have to articles@zeldauniverse.netThis e-mail address is being protected from spam bots, you need JavaScript enabled to view it .

J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings is the king of the modern fantasy genre, if only because it is the father of it. Because of Rings, Tolkien is considered to be “the author of the 20th century.” His work is at once grand and epic and yet at the same time subtle and touching. Rings, itself derived from Norse mythology, is the primary inspiration for everything from Star Wars to Harry Potter to WarCraft. The books simply begged to be made into films, but even great filmmakers such as Steven Spielberg and George Lucas shunned it, thinking it to be the impossible. But now the epic has finally been brought to film, and so far it looks as though it will reign as king of fantasy film.

Even the Legend of Zelda has strong roots in Middle Earth. Zelda is an RPG, and the RPG genre actually comes from Lord of the Rings. It all began when the books inspired D&D. Then it so happened that a man named Will Crowther began participating in a D&D called “Mirkwood Tales.” Crowther came to create a game called “Adventure.” And that was the first RPG.

Now flash-forward to the present. Black Label Games was able to obtain the rights to create games based off of the books. They didn’t have to stick with the movie material, like Electronic Arts had to do with their game. Instead they had a vast amount of source material with which to work, giving them the potential to create a truly epic game.

Well, the game Fellowship of the Ring arrived on the Xbox without much of a ruckus. It didn’t stay Xbox exclusive for very long, and now it’s on the PC. And I have now played it.

So what’s the verdict? Is it really the Zelda-killer the official Xbox magazine proclaimed it? I’m sure you know the answer already: NO.

In fact, the game kind of sucks. It’s not absolutely terrible, but I wasn’t playing it very long before I immediately began to think to myself wistfully, “This would be so much better if this was a Zelda game.” For starters, the initial Shire area is incredibly bland compared to the vibrant, wonderfully alive towns of the Zelda series, such as Kakariko Village or Clock Town. And guess what. Just when you begin to get excited about exploring the Shire, you notice that (a) the Shire is very small, that (b) there is hardly anyone around, and that (c) you can only enter one building, an inn containing an amazing 4 people. What’s worse, the level design is such that it constantly reminds you that you’re playing a video game, not venturing into a long lost mythical world. I could go on and on about the game’s problems. The presentation is poor, the conversations usually have no depth, and the controls are clunky. And the game is so short! It feels like a quick little adventure rather than the grand epic it should be.

Don’t get me wrong, the game does have its highlights. But in addition to all those problems which I have just mentioned, the game simply lacked that Nintendo magic that we’ve all come to know and love in the Zelda series. When you play Zelda, you’re engulfed in a mythical land full of wonder and discovery, a world that sucks you in and involves you emotionally with its characters. And of course, the game play is a perfect concoction of battle, puzzle solving, and more.

In the end, I suppose it isn’t so much that Fellowship of the Ring is such a bad game. More than anything else, it’s a tribute to the greatness of The Legend of Zelda. Lately I’ve been taking special note of whenever Zelda is mentioned in game reviews and articles. And I’ve noticed that reviewers often view Zelda to be the standard of gaming in many respects. Games are constantly compared to it. It just can’t be denied that Zelda is a wonderful game. We who are Zelda fans are used to playing a well-made game so perfectly polished that you forget you’re not actually engaged in a quest to save Hyrule. We don’t settle for the relative junk of gaming that is Fellowship of the Ring.

Link remains the Hero of Time, the king of all gaming legends.

This is a coin from New Zealand (origin of the Maori people) , it is an older coin but look how similar the face is to Majora’s Mask, could Shigeru Miyamoto have been in New Zealand on holiday whilst thinking up the story of the game?. Check this, the name of the mask on the coin is the head of ‘Koruru’, very close to a word we know as ‘Kokiri’, Mr. Links home ground.

Remember the stray fairy guys, the floating fairies you had to find to complete the great fairies?, well this coin which I think is the 20 cent coin in New Zealand features a small sitting guy, he was based on a carving on the gateway of Pa in the Rotorua region over there in the 19th century. It belongs to the Arawa people who gave their permission to use it. Anyway these little guys are seen all over the world now, they are known by many names, some call them ‘Kodama’ others call them ‘Heitiki’ ect., they have been used in films such as Princess Mononoke where they were tree spirits who protected the forests, friendly and cute, they bare resemblance to the fairies in Majoras Mask (except they float), hey were supposed to protect the land, but as always it’s up to Link to do that in the end.

We all know about the creation of Hyrule, from the story told in Ocarina of Time. The three goddesses descended form the sky and swept across the land creating the desert, the sky and the water. Well this guy here is called Lono, he is a Polynesian god of fertility and he came to Earth from the sky and created the people of the islands from Hawaii to Aotearoa (New Zealand), which are known as the Polynesian triangle. Mythology becomes reality, but I don’t think Lono left a triforce behind somehow.

The Ikana Factor

- Igos Du Ikana, the ancient deceased king of Ikana when alive was in command of his huge armies and travelled deep into the forests to slaughter the Deku Scrubs for sport and accomplishment, being at war with them at that time. The Deku outlived him and vastly outnumbered his armies even though I can’t imagine any scrub killing one of his soldiers, anyway, this figure is a carving is of the personal god of King Kamehameha the great, its name is Kuka’ilimoku’. The king gave this god credit for his great success in uniting the Hawaiian islands, similar to Lono. This figure was especially made and passed to succeeding generations of the royal family to preserve it. It was said that the chief Kahunas (priests) went deep into the forests to find and bless the correct wood for this carving before returning to the village where the master craftsmen were closely supervised to sculpt their god. Only 3 of these exist today. It is only loosely linked but could Igos be connected with gods we are not aware of?

The Masks

The masks play their biggest part in Majoras Mask but only because they derived from Ocarina of Time. The Giants mask and the mask that Odolwa wears are particularly interesting, as is the Fierce Deity’s mask. The Giants mask seen here is very similar to these masks produced by Polynesians. It was written that the Polynesians made no masks but this is untrue, they were used mostly for decoration rather than to be worn. The grooves and Tattoos are clearly seen on both. The mask that Odolwa wears is a spitting image of the one seen here, this mask was worn during tribal performances in which young men entertained onlookers by impersonating animal behaviour. This mask was found along with approximately 30 others at a tribal dancing ground. You might have noticed that when you face Odolwa in the game he dances around and shouts war chants at you to intimidate along with his vastly decorated body. Could there have been a 20 foot tall jungle warrior for real many years ago?

Maori Warrior Tiki Masks

Giants Mask

Maori Warrior Tiki Mask

The Fierce Deity mask when put on by Link as we know turns him into a god, he has tatoos on his face, another Maori fighting tradition. Many of the Maori have tatooed bodies and faces to both intimidate and attract, why Majoras Mask was based heavily on all these things still remains a mystery, but it just goes to show that someone has actually done a lot of homework to create it. So those of you who thought it was a copy of Ocarina of Time with a different land to explore, it’s time to think again.

The trance dancer — African mask. Remind you of the thin faced kamaro?

The batik flame mask — Bremen mask anyone?