Final Fantasy IX (Squaresoft, 2000)

    There’s plenty to praise about Square’s PlayStation swansong, but one of its finest qualities is a consistent villain in Kuja. He’s taking the dead souls of people on the planet Gaia and turning them into replicas of the black mage character class (pointy hat, blue coat, glowing eyes, no corporeal form) from the first game in this series. These mages have no autonomy and just do his bidding as he seeks to conquer the various kingdoms of Gaia. As the player’s party learns more about his evil deeds, Vivi, a black mage who is not made of the same stuff as the others, explains Kuja’s appeal to these clones with the words, “Everyone knew he was lying… but they still followed him.” Even though harms are evident, we ignore possible negative outcomes and convince ourselves it won’t happen to us or we are smart enough not to be tricked. The truth is that we are all as fallible as these ersatz mages. And, if we as individuals are flawed, that means our systems and societies are as well. I wasn’t thinking this game would make me think much about the election, but it turns out there are some common threads that connect them.

    Upon its release in 2000, I was 17 years old and enjoying my winter break. This meant two-a-day swim practices and a staggering caloric intake. It also meant Al Gore had conceded to George W. Bush. I’d been to a rally with some friends that October in support of Ralph Nader, who had made it onto the ballot in Illinois. I was excited that Studs Terkel, Jello Biafra, and Eddie Vedder were speaking in support of Nader at the rally. It seemed like we were finally going to have a viable third party in the United States. I had wanted to vote for him but I was too young. The idea of swallowing my pride and voting strategically would not cross my mind for years to come. I thought my integrity was the most important thing in the world—consequences be damned. I couldn’t see how my life, my actions fit into a social world. Mashing the square, circle, triangle, and X on my controller as I explored Gaia and Terra with the aim of taking down Kuja helped me add some perspective to my life. Doing the same with A, B, X, and Y this past month has also given me the space to do the same, and to reflect on what this game means for being an individual trying to find or make a place in a society. Truly, many role-playing games deal with this idea of identity formation and villain toppling. Maybe it’s because this, my second playthrough, comes during another anxiety-inducing election season that I’m thinking about these idea with some additional focus.

    The double-barreled question this game seeks to answer is “How do you know who you are, and who decides?” As you seek to answer that question with some staple fantasy characters (thief, knight, princess, black mage, summoner) as well as a dragoon knight rat, a blue mage chef, and a bounty hunting brawler, your adventures with those characters help you answer those questions. If you leave the title screen running, each one of them has a pull quote that displays with a motif related to their character arc. These quotes range from Freya’s “To be forgotten is worse than death” (despair) to Quina’s “I do what I want! You have problem!? [sic]” (indulgence). In each case, the quote reveals something about their character’s personality and what role they hope to fulfill in the adventure. As you can imagine, throwing together virtue, devotion, dilemma, solitude, arrogance, despair, indulgence, and sorrow creates quite a mix of competing goals. The point is these are messy characters, even if they are drawn from reliable fantasy archetypes. (Not everything about a game or story or song needs to be special.) They express as much doubt as conviction about their goals and roles, and in so doing, allow the player to grapple with those same issues. The game also allows you to see what the other characters are doing when you are in control of certain party members. An Active Time Event (ATE) is a reminder that even in a video game, even when you, the player, are controlling the action, others are going about their lives and figuring it all out, just like you are. It's a clever way to deepen our understanding of each character. Deciding on the kind of person you want to be and what that means for the society or situation you find yourself in is a lifelong project. I can certainly say I am glad I am still not the same person I was at 17. I know young Tall Rob (yes, I have been the height I am now since I was 15) would not have been comfortable with canvassing or ballot curing, which are two actions I’ve taken during the past month to do my part to ensure that the person who is lying but still being followed will not have the reins of power again. It wasn’t enough to decide in my head that I was for or against or ambivalent on certain issues. I needed to make my words and actions reflect my character by having other people notice them. We put our identities in motion inside of our minds and everyone else decides who we actually are through what we say and do. I want better for myself and for you, so I know that any identity I form is only worthwhile if it’s legible to others.

    In the very last dungeon of Final Fantasy IX, the party explores Memoria, an imaginary place composed of shards of shared memories from the characters’ lives. In one scene, Quina does not recall Kuja’s destruction of one of Gaia's kingdoms. It’s simply the case that they were not there at the time, so there is no memory to be had. The game is asking us to think about the co-composition of memories with our friends and contemporaries. We all bring different background information to our lived experiences and thus we have different memories to take away from those experiences. I know I have false memories of my friends’ stories because they have told me about them so many times. We all share that. We each take part in creating this world. The beautiful thing about being in a society where we can have the guts to be ourselves is that we end up making and sharing memories with others. I know “hope is not a plan,” so I have taken action in support of my hope that today is a new beginning in this world we are writing together because I also know “we are not going back.” We cannot afford that.