And there he/she goes, the Wanderer, in the Tristram of his/her own mind. The remains of what used to be the collective of behaviors past, sanctioned by family and general culture. “Tristram” could no longer survive, because Tristram was dysfunctional. Only the good parts remain, with a handful of good friends, loving family maybe. The Wanderer has to begin healing his/ her mind and they will be there to assist, to guide just for a little bit but will not interfere. The burden is primarily on the Wanderer’s shoulders.
And there goes the hero, entering the cathedral, warned by a dying cognition “What was once holy, you realize now is corrupt”. The four levels that follow are a confrontation with beliefs of the past – what was held in high respect and used as a moral compass, now is flooded with demons: internalized liars, cowards, violators, smartasses. The Wanderer delves down, deeper and deeper, facing for the first time a source of the soul’s corruption (the poisoned water), a first-pass neurosis. The Skeleton King represents the psychic remains of a childhood’s disease – guess what, the Wanderer is no longer ill. The Skeleton King dies along with his minion neurotic defenses.
The next confrontation is with the internalized boogeyman, the one that has killed so many good moments and internal figures. The wanderer realizes that to kill the Butcher is to pull him over to oneself, until he becomes out of breath, and stuck… And the Butcher is killed, without glory. He does not deserve it.
The following levels are a dungeon, filled with dusty old tomes. The wanderer needs to acquire knowledge on his path to psychological health. He needs to open his eyes and stop being blind – he passes the Halls of the Blind.
The Wanderer finds his first healthy defense mechanism in re-inventing morality, deep within this immoral place: Valor.
The next tier is closer to what the Wanderer believes is a personal Hell: a collection of worst fears and nightmares that might bring the Hero’s death. Through his/her Fury the Wanderer will forge the Will (Anvil of Fury) to have a healthier anger, one that breaks down what previously broke down that very Will.
The Wanderer finally reaches Hell. The Hero finds the liar holy man, who only brought the hero’s worst nightmares in life. The representation of the false mentor is slain, after losing a great deal of blood in mourning. What remains is to be exposed to the most destructive internalization: Diablo.
Diablo is the result of a childhood corrupted – the Hero stands stunned. Diablo is not the significant other. Lazarus was the corrupted mentor, the corrupted parent, and the demon before him/her is her own childhood, molested, warped, made evil! The Wanderer spends a great deal of pain and psychic energy to bring down the demon. The child reappears. Dead.
Childhood has ended. The Wanderer has entered adulthood and has to embrace all the responsibilities, all the little joys, all the horrors.
But the Wanderer embraces the soulstone. He chooses to contain and suppress the significant other’s corruption. If the Hero does not accept this part, he/she will never be complete. Another Hero would throw away the soulstone, only to have another demon at his/her doorstep later on. This Hero, this Wanderer, will be whole, will be complete. He will be brave for us all.
In the future, the Wanderer will be another hero’s personal quest for adulthood. But the Wanderer will not teach, will not mentor, will not caress – will only forge the psyche in blood.
This is either a very mature approach based on the Monomyth and/or the Hero's journey or the greatest waste of photons I've seen in a long time.
ReplyDeleteNo refunds.
ReplyDelete...και συνεχίζοντας πιό λαικά, τα μεγάλα παιχνίδια είναι μεγάλα γιατί (συγ)κινούν τον παίκτη και τον ωθούν να συμμετάσχει, πολλές φορές καλύπτωντας τα κενά της ιστορίας με δικές του εμπνεύσεις. Η Blizzard πάντα έβγαζε μεγάλα παιχνίδια. Εμένα μπορεί το Diablo να μη μου λέει τίποτα, αλλά εκατομμύρια φανατικών παικτών δημιουργούν ένα ισχυρό gestalt.
ReplyDeleteΣτο επόμενο άρθρο...
ReplyDeleteSuper Mario Bros: Η ιστορία της ζωής μας
Πηδάς, πηδάς, πηδάς, και τί κερδίζεις στο τέλος; Το πολύ-πολύ να βγάλεις τίποτα μανιτάρια...
XAXXAXAXXAAX gamise
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