“But if you have to sacrifice your heart and mind… Sacrifice what makes you, ‘you’…” – Mineru
My blog has turned into a ghost town, but you know if anything can spark the need to rant for me, it’s some good old fashioned feminine rage (and to dissect poor writing). Fair warning: if reading any sort of criticism of Tears of the Kingdom, or me complaining about how female characters are written within the game is going to be a harrowing experience for you, you should probably give this piece a pass. There are also full spoilers ahead for the entirety of the game, so don’t ruin it for yourself if you haven’t completed it yet! I also feel obligated to reiterate that this is simply my own opinion; if you disagree, that’s completely fine, and I’m happy for you.
Here we go again
Being the famously slow gamer that I am, it wasn’t a huge surprise to me to see that most of the Zelda community was lightyears ahead of my own progress in Tears of the Kingdom. When I started to see some commentary on the narrative (especially as it pertains to Link and Zelda) I was cautiously optimistic – people were tweeting about being moved to literal tears by this story. Wow. I wasn’t particularly impressed by Breath of the Wild‘s story, nor did I feel attached to the majority of the cast. This promise that Tears of the Kingdom was going to be a vast improvement made me want to pursue the “Tears of the Dragon” quest immediately – I wanted to see what all the hype was about before I continued with the actual game. And yeah, it was something. Something that disappointed me beyond belief.
I wrote a post quite a while ago about the representation of female characters in gaming, and how one of the most infuriating aspects of how women are written is the boxes they’re always put into. They’re too often the damsels in distress, or the pillars that support the journey of the male hero, usually left behind or discarded when they can’t fulfill their purpose of pushing the plot forward anymore. Well, wouldn’t you know, like a poorly rendered Gleeok, these same tropes rear their ugly heads in Tears of the Kingdom. And my god, is it ever tiring. I feel it’s also important to note as a caveat (as I did in that original post) that I’m applying a Western feminist lens to a Japanese game, and the further caveat that I don’t care. These tropes are common in media from every part of the globe, and I don’t think they should be given a free pass from scrutiny for using dated, lazy, misogynistic writing. Of course, the self-sacrifice trope isn’t reserved exclusively for women, but I do find that, too often, these types of characters are under-written, underrepresented in the story, and generally used for plot convenient purposes.
The princess of destiny
But back to the newest Zelda title specifically: the “Tears of the Dragon” questline covers the majority of the important narrative elements of Tears of the Kingdom – we see visions of what has become of Zelda, stuck in the past since disappearing from beneath Hyrule Castle. The ancient royals, King Rauru and Queen Sonia, have taken Zelda under their collective wings, and they’re committed to helping her find a way back to her own time. It was super exciting to see the introduction and rise of Ganondorf in these flashbacks, but I was much more interested in Zelda’s journey, and the predicament in which she finds herself; as it turns out, travelling forward through time is nigh on impossible. The most viable solution (because it’s not like she has magic related to time or anything) for Zelda to get back to the future seems to be to wait – thousands of years. But of course, this raises a glaring issue: how is our princess supposed to survive that long? By becoming an immortal dragon, of course. Unfortunately, this path is less than ideal, for more than one reason. So naturally, Zelda is faced with an extremely difficult choice – and it’s the way that this choice is framed, and what it really entails, that got under my skin.
As it turns out, becoming an immortal dragon demands quite a sacrifice. So, what is this sacrifice that Zelda has to make? Only her mind, her personality, her entire sense of self. In the words of Mineru, “to become an immortal dragon is to lose oneself.” Mineru explains why this Draconification process is forbidden – “it would mean throwing yourself away.” Which of course, the narrative is content to do. It’s not interested in exploring Zelda’s power over light and time, nor the potential capabilities of the Sheikah Slate. It’s just eager for Zelda to suffer. ‘But Meghan,’ you might say, ‘this is an example of Zelda exercising agency, isn’t it?’ To which I would respond, no, I don’t really think it is. Because Tears of the Kingdom‘s story doesn’t even give Zelda the illusion of choice – she’s backed into a corner, with all signs pointing towards Draconification. Not only will she make it back to her own time (eventually), she’ll also be able to repair the Master Sword in time for Link to save Hyrule. It’s perfect, really. So, not only does the narrative get to do away with Zelda for the entirety of the game, it also creates that goal post for Link in his generic “regaining lost power” journey. It’s killing two dragons with one secret stone.
I was already frustrated when Zelda disappeared within the first 10 minutes of the game, and was no less annoyed (or surprised) that she remains effectively absent for the rest of its runtime. I think I was more disappointed by this than I normally would be, because of the rumors flying before Tears of the Kingdom was released; people were speculating that this would finally be the Zelda where our titular princess would be a playable character. I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up, honestly. Zelda was sidelined in Breath of the Wild, so I don’t know why I thought Tears of the Kingdom would be vastly different. But the original game did so much to build Zelda’s character, I couldn’t believe that its sequel was content to turn her into a ghost. I was personally thrilled with this modern Zelda, especially because the story in Breath of the Wild felt fairly disjointed and more like window dressing than anything else. I loved that we got to experience what Zelda was like as a person – her emotional turmoil, her interests, her goals, her fear of failure, and the weight of expectation placed upon her. For me, this was the closest that The Legend of Zelda has ever come to making its princess feel like an actual person, a well-rounded, three dimensional character. So naturally, I expected Tears of the Kingdom to build on all that hard work, and make her even more endearing. But no. They took all of that character building and threw it in the trash. I don’t think I can fully articulate why this decision infuriates me so much – partially because it’s just another iteration of a story where women are stripped of their agency, their character, their entire being, simply so the narrative can get where it needs to be. And ultimately, we know this sacrifice is meaningless anyway – of course Zelda isn’t going to be a mindless dragon forever, and of course she’s going to be returned to her human form. So honestly, what was the point? Why is this trope still so prevalent? Is this seriously the best writing that we’re capable of?
I can’t help but compare the writing in Tears of the Kingdom to my personal favourite Zelda title, Ocarina of Time – in which Zelda is also sidelined for the majority of the narrative, albeit in a very different way. While there isn’t a ton of time spent on Zelda as a person, she does maintain a much more active role in the story, particularly after you become an adult. As you’ll find out right before confronting Ganondorf in his castle at the end of the game, Zelda has been present all along, disguised as Sheik. But here’s the critical difference – not only has Zelda been guiding Link, she’s also been helping the people of her kingdom. You’ll hear from a ton of people, in Kakariko, and all over Hyrule, about the mysterious male Sheikah. When I played this game as a child, I loved imagining what kinds of adventures Zelda got up to while we were pursuing the Sages in their Temples. And what a wild concept, that Zelda would maintain some semblance of agency in a story that, let’s be honest, partially belongs to her. There’s nothing wrong with Link being the playable character, being the hero, but why does it always seem to be predicated on Zelda’s loss?
Designing the mold
There’s also nothing inherently wrong with a story where women are supporting the male lead, or where they sacrifice themselves to move the narrative along, or where they take on less active roles than their male counterparts. It does, however, become a problem when this is the overwhelming majority of what we see – when these are the narratives that dominate gaming, television, movies, and novels, it suggests a pattern that says something about our society as a whole. Its in the way that we expect women to be sacrificed on the road to male success; its in the way that we normalize women being decorative backdrops during the hero’s journey; its in the way we ultimately devalue the capabilities and accomplishments of women. And how we continue to write these same tropes over, and over, and over again. Though people may not think about this the same way that I do, these characters are stand-ins for real women – they represent the idea of being a woman, of what femininity means. And these ideas don’t spring from nowhere, or exist in a vacuum – they’re written by real people. So what kinds of ideas do these character types, and their roles within their stories, tell us about our opinions of women?
I used to think representation was getting better, that more effort was being put into creating and including well-rounded female characters. But I’m not so sure anymore. Partly because of the politics of representation, and how a vocal minority (at least, I hope it’s still a minority) continues to scream and shout about the perceived push for “wokeness” in gaming. As of writing this, the first official trailer for Grand Theft Auto 6 has dropped, and within minutes, “Woke” was trending on Twitter. Since when did the simple inclusion of women, or having a female protagonist, become a political statement? And then of course, many fail to recognize the opposite side of this argument, the glaringly obvious “well if including women is a political statement, then excluding them must also be political,” correct? Sorry, I guess that’s too radical and feminist, forgive me. But I’ve seen these attitudes across the years and genres of different games – I see it in the way that people hate Chloe from Uncharted for coming between Nate and Elena, but not Nate for pursuing her. I see it in the way that characters like Mary Jane from Spider-Man 2, and Aloy from Horizon: Zero Dawn are criticized for their appearances in ways that a male character would never be subjected to. And maybe more subtly, I see it in the way that a story where one of the only notable female characters has to give up everything – her body, her sense of self, her power, her life – for the male hero to succeed; and of course, this story is framed as an epic tale of love and loyalty. But you know what the worst part of all of this is? I fail to see anything getting better.
A weightless tale
I’ve digressed from my original discussion about the princess of Hyrule, but I think it’s important to view these kinds of things within their greater contexts, and with the ongoing trends we continue to see in gaming and media more broadly. Ultimately, Zelda is just another brick in the road of fictional women that lay down their lives (in one way or another) in order for the hero to succeed. I didn’t even touch on the fact that Tears of the Kingdom also happily fridges Queen Sonia, because why wouldn’t it. My biggest gripe with these misogynistic tropes is the fact that they’ve become so normalized, that I fear people don’t even recognize them anymore. And it’s particularly frustrating in this case, because I can see the emotional impact this story has. It’s moving to see Zelda make her final stand and swallow that stone, Master Sword in hand. It’s a story that evokes emotion, and is put together beautifully. The fork in my soup is just this: the fact that its foundation is built upon such a tired, misogynistic trope, that it sours the entire narrative. The “Tears of the Dragon” flashbacks simply give us the illusion that Zelda has her own storyline. The fact that this powerful princess is stripped of everything, and sidelined for the bulk of the story simply to become a glorified sheath for a sword, is frankly insulting. And you know what? None of it means anything because she’s able to return to her original form by the end of the game. Because of course she is. She doesn’t even remember her time as a dragon. So all those long, excruciating years of waiting? Simply forgotten. What a perfectly boring, consequence-free ending.
Its unfortunate that Tears of the Kingdom chose this route, after all the legwork the writers put into developing Zelda’s character in Breath of the Wild. To see our titular heroine reduced to nothing infuriated me in a way that I can’t quite explain. In order to have Link “build himself up” again in order to be able to face this iteration of Ganondorf (Kingdom Hearts runs into this same issue in every game with Sora), he loses the power of the Master Sword, and has to venture into the ancient Temples to gather the secret stones. But you know… he’ll be needing that sword back at some point. And though Zelda “throws herself away” and has no memory of her time as a dragon, she still shows up to the final fight to help Link battle the Draconified version of Ganon, because the game wants its cake, and to eat it too. My complaint isn’t that the fight isn’t fantastic, or that the ending of the game lacks impact – just that the narrative, predicated on Zelda’s suffering, is riddled with plot holes (literally everything from Breath of the Wild has disappeared and the game isn’t interested in explaining any of it) and conveniences that make me want to peel my face off. I’m glad this story hit the mark for a lot of people, but it was so, so deeply disappointing for me. I’m glad to see this chapter in the Zelda series come to a close. I’m sure a lot of fans start up Tears of the Kingdom, and feel a beautiful sense of sadness seeing that white dragon circling the Great Sky Island. I feel sad as well, but for an entirely different reason.
Meghan Plays Games 