The Psychology of Zeld

“Time passes, people move . . . Like a river’s flow, it never ends. A childish mind will turn to noble ambition . . . Young love will become deep affection . . . The clear water’s surface reflects growth . . .”

—Sheik/Zelda (Ocarina of Time, 1998)

“In some way, suffering ceases to be suffering at the moment it finds a meaning, such as the meaning of a sacrifice.”

—Viktor Frankl (2006, p. 113)

The essential lie of childhood is the belief that parents can protect their children from any threat. Sadly, many children discover far too young that this is untrue. While most young people have the luxury of waiting until they are of a certain age to reckon with this lie—and face the chaos and danger of an unforgiving world—others are thrust into it straightaway. Whether they are able to first reach the age of maturity before confronting life’s hardships or not, all children must discover that they are the heroes of their own dangerous journey. At best, parents serve as guides rather than protective, all-powerful forces, empowering their children to “go forth, hero.”

Mythologist Joseph Campbell described the brutality and danger inherent in this process as the “coming-of-age story,” explaining that all cultures across the globe tell stories to help prepare their children for this journey into adulthood. The journey from childhood into adulthood is rarely easy and often painful. Such pain serves as a catalyst for growth, enabling the individual to gain a deeper understanding of themselves and the world. Some children experience traumas that propel them into adulthood well before it is developmentally appropriate. According to Erik Erikson, renowned psychologist and theorist of human growth and development, while these traumas can lead to clinical mental health issues, just as often they result in schema change that is healthy and developmentally appropriate, in which the child reckons with the truths of adulthood. Many children grow from such pain to become wise, courageous, and strong adults. In modern psychology, this process is known as posttraumatic growth and it is generally viewed as the antithesis to posttraumatic stress disorder or PTSD.

Few modern narratives capture the traumatic coming of age journey—including the pain, dangers, and potential for growth—better than Link’s journey in the Legend of Zelda video game series. Since his debut in 1986, Link has had a tumultuous childhood. Even before his fate as the Hero of Hyrule is revealed to him, Link is generally depicted as having a challenging life. Whether he is living with his uncle (A Link to the Past, 1992), adopted by the Kokiri (Ocarina of Time, 1998), or living alone in a teenage bachelor treehouse (Twilight Princess, 2006), Link is always an orphan, already different from his parented peers. For Link, the trials entailed in “coming of age” begin well before the start of the game and the unfolding of his valiant destiny as the Hero of Hyrule. Coming of age, or turning away from childhood and toward adulthood, typically begins in early adolescence, generally at ages 12 to 13. Transitioning from childhood to adulthood is a process that continues to involve support and some monitoring from adult caregivers well into one’s teenage years. For Link—and for other children who have experienced the trauma of losing protective caregivers before it is considered developmentally appropriate—this maturation process is accelerated. They are forced to face challenges exceeding what would be expected of one so young.

Orphaned or abandoned children regularly experience the events surrounding their abandonment as traumatic: they struggle, and often fail, to meet developmental milestones and regulate their emotions. Children wrestling with this trauma are more likely to develop depression, PTSD, or other clinically significant behavioral and emotional problems. Yet, in most versions of the Zelda legend, Link neither languishes in grief nor develops PTSD. Instead, he grows from his experiences, gaining new insight, skills, and, eventually, wisdom. In each iteration, Link engages in the painful process of posttraumatic growth. Each legend examines posttraumatic growth from different perspectives, using Link as both a focal point of the game’s action and a prism through which gamers can experience the various components of both trauma and posttraumatic growth. Through this process, and in fact because of it, he gains a greater appreciation of life, closer relationships, the ability to identify new possibilities, increased personal strength, and positive spiritual change.

ORIGINS

While the first two Zelda games, The Legend of Zelda (1986) and Zelda II: The Adventure of Link (1987), are limited in their narrative scope due to the technological limitations of gameplay in the 1980s, A Link to the Past (1991) showcases the first attempt to create a deeply nuanced character for Link, the avatar of the series. This iteration of Link is not just as an adventuring hero; he is first a young boy, bereft of parents, living with his uncle. During the first several minutes of the game, he is orphaned yet again when his uncle dies in an ill-fated attempt to save Princess Zelda. However, destiny does not allow Link to wallow in either despair or grief: it commands him to become the Hero of Hyrule. While Link’s characterization has continued to grow and expand over the course of the series, this central tension first made explicit in A Link to the Past between childhood innocence and heroic adulthood has become one of Link’s most defining features.

In each of the main games that follow, Link engages with this dichotomy but is neither crushed nor thwarted by it. From Ocarina of Time (1986) to Breath of the Wild (2017), Link finds both healing and growth within the heroic struggle for Hyrule. And although Link’s journey is often the center of the narrative, many installments in the Zelda franchise incorporate Zelda’s traumatic coming-of-age saga as well, offering both nuance and inclusivity to the monomyth. According to Nancy Boyd-Franklin, African-American psychologist and researcher on issues of ethnicity and family therapy, children and adolescents struggling with traumatic situations or the loss of core caregivers can benefit from increased responsibility and purpose. Thus, neither Link, Zelda, nor their real-world counterparts benefit from attempts to resurrect their lost childhood. Instead, it is the act of facing their lost innocence and traumatic pain that allows them to both heal and grow. Such healing is also available to players. With each play through, gamers can choose to mindfully reengage with their trauma via the symbolic act of narrative play in what Alisic et al. refer to as a “deliberate and constructive ruminative process.”

While games of the twenty-tens, such as Papo & Yo (2012), Life is Strange (2015), Journey (2012), and Gone Home (2013), attempt to use the power of gaming to foster healing narratives of growth and posttraumatic transformation, it is important to remember that the Zelda franchise was at the forefront of this path. Beginning with A Link to the Past and continuing through the most recent installment, Breath of the Wild, Nintendo has crafted a narrative around an orphaned child’s archetypal experience struggling with loss, identity, and destiny on a journey toward posttraumatic growth.

OCARINA OF TIME: CHILD SOLDIERS

In Ocarina of Time, players first meet Link, the Hero of Hyrule, and Princess Zelda as young children. Both have experienced great loss: at some point prior to the start of the game, Zelda’s mother dies, leaving her to be parented by an absent father, the gullible King of Hyrule. Link is a foundling whose family origin story is shrouded in mystery for the first half of the game.

Players are introduced to Link as an orphan living amongst the Kokiri. The Kokiri are depicted as Link’s childhood friends and the Great Deku Tree as a strong paternal presence. Shortly after these familial roles have been established, Link’s adopted father, the Great Deku Tree, dies from the evil Ganon’s poison, leaving Link bereft in a dangerous land with only his new-found fairy friend, Navi, to aid him. The death of the Great Deku Tree becomes a tragic call to adventure, catalyzing Link’s emotional and literal battles as he faces both the loss of a loved one and his heroic destiny. The loss of the Great Deku Tree adds a poignancy to Link’s shield, a protective armament fashioned from a piece of that tree, with the symbol of the Kokiri painted on its face. Many people carry mementos of loved ones into battle, including locks of hair or human ashes, and use them as sources of both strength and support. According to Joseph Campbell, mythologist and acclaimed researcher of the monomyth, even those who fight an emotional rather than a physical battle benefit from such a token.

As children trapped in the middle of a long-simmering civil war, Link and Zelda must fight for their survival. Convinced that only they can save their homeland, they choose to become child soldiers. For each of them, this path is marked by both fate and destiny.* As the Princess of Hyrule, Zelda has been preparing to be the future leader of Hyrule since her birth. As an orphan thrust into his coming-of-age journey too soon, Link’s fate is more precarious. But the Deku Tree’s parting words give Link an essential sense of purpose and set him upon the path that leads to becoming Hyrule’s hero of legend.

Destiny acts as a source of meaning for both Link and Zelda, helping them face terrifying circumstances. Many find that the prospect of destiny or a greater universal plan gives meaning to terrible trials. Renowned psychotherapist and Holocaust survivor Viktor Frankl created an entire therapeutic approach, logotherapy, founded upon the premise that human beings need their lives to have meaning in order to both survive and thrive in the world.*

For Link, his stint as a child soldier is limited. He becomes trapped in the sacred realm where he slumbers for seven years after acquiring the Master Sword, awakening to find himself in a new teenage body. While he sleeps, Zelda spends the remainder of her childhood learning and suffering as a child soldier, eventually becoming the enigmatic and powerful teenage Sheik. Though Link and Zelda have very different childhood experiences, both are marred by tragedy: Zelda experiences the trauma of life as a child soldier, whereas Link suffers the trauma of missing time; specifically, sleeping through his early adolescence, where valuable personal transformation is supposed to occur. Yet, neither Link nor Zelda fall victim to PTSD or the related diagnoses of anxiety and depression. Instead, their powerful and meaningful roles as protectors of Hyrule give them the fortitude to soldier on.

When Link awakens, Zelda and Link grow closer. Zelda uses her deepened spiritual connection with Hyrule to inspire Link as he enters each new dungeon trial. Together they manage to defeat Ganon—but here both time and trauma betray them. When Zelda decides to send Link back to the past, thereby trapping teenage Link in his child’s body, she believes she is sparing him the pain of her own trauma. She hopes to ensure that Link has the opportunity to reclaim the childhood that was stolen from him. Alone, teenage Zelda plans to rebuild this alternate version of Hyrule. Yet, community and connection are often required to complete the transformation entailed in posttraumatic growth. Perhaps Sheik Zelda will continue to find new purpose in her role as the leader of the damaged Hyrule, just as her childlike counterpart, Princess Zelda, does in the saved world. However, Link is left bereft of both his closest ally, Sheik Zelda, and his community, the Kokiri. When his fairy best friend Navi leaves him at the end of the game, Link finds himself truly alone.

MAJORA’S MASK: A JOURNEY THROUGH PTSD

In Majora’s Mask (2000), players are treated to the only direct sequel in the main Zeldaverse. This game presents a dark mirror image of its predecessor, Ocarina of Time. All aspects of a typical Legend of Zelda game are included––elaborate dungeons, quirky townsfolk, the Lost Woods––yet they are fractured. In this game, child hero Link begins to show cracks in his armor as he experiences distress due to the multiple traumas he endured in Ocarina of Time. Majora’s Mask finds Link stripped of many of the protective factors that had kept him insulated from feeling the raw emotion of his traumatic experiences. As the Hero of Hyrule, he had a destiny; his life had both purpose and meaning. He found a supportive community—a new family of choice among Saria, Navi, Impa, and others—who provided both aid and guidance. Without these supports and the powers that once made him strong, Link falters.

It is during this time that both players and Link fully engage with PTSD. The most overt symptom experienced by Link, and by proxy, by gamers, is flashbacks; these take place via the game mechanic of moving forward and backward through time. Each time Link resets the clock, he loses all of the progress he has made in the game. This game mechanic not only mimics the symptom of flashbacks, it induces frustration—what is the point of reliving traumatic events when one is powerless to fix them? The game’s depiction of flashbacks differs somewhat from the classic psychological presentation in adults. However, it captures the symptoms of trauma observed in young children by Kaminer et al. wherein “re-experiencing may occur through repetitive play involving trauma-related themes.”

Many fans themselves have struggled with Majora’s Mask, leading to backlash when it was first released. Without the protective forces of destiny, responsibility, and community validation, players and Link must face the traumatic aspects of heroism. One of the great draws of the Zelda video game series is the way it uses archetypal characters and motifs of the coming-of-age story to foster a cocreative experience with gamers. Each Zelda game creates a story with characters that are just similar enough to previous versions to feel both comfortable and familiar to the gamer, yet unique enough to never become boring. The puzzles and the story capture players’ interest while fostering their ability to create their own narrative experience using the symbolic tools the game provides. Such an experience speaks not only to the power of reauthoring one’s own narrative but gets to the heart of posttraumatic growth: in order to transform, the victim must make meaning from their trauma or pain.

THE WIND WAKER: STRUGGLES WITH FAMILY

In The Wind Waker’s (2003) version of Link, he is in the most intact family of the series: Link lives on Outset Island in a peaceful village with his sister and loving grandmother. Both remain alive throughout the game and—once Link gains use of the boat, King of Red Lions—he is able to visit his family* throughout game play. Indeed, the family’s role in posttraumatic growth is often complex: it has been found to be either an inhibiting or a protective factor for growth, depending on the circumstances.

In Link’s family of origin, his grandmother fosters his independence by providing key aid in his journey to become the hero of legend. While she clearly worries for his safety, she does not attempt to protect him or prevent him from following his destiny. She encourages him to fight and grow, enabling him to rebound from his sister’s kidnapping. When Link faces this traumatic loss, his desire to be the loyal older brother who protects his sister from harm gives him purpose. Instead of wallowing in misery, he journeys forth to free her, falling into a greater journey and a grander destiny. But it is not only members of his family of origin who prepare him for his journey. The greater community of Outset Island has a grand coming-of-age tradition for its male children that culminates in their adopting the green dress of the Hero of Time. Joseph Campbell argues that such ritualistic ceremonies can help prepare adolescents for the struggles and challenges they will face in adulthood by reminding them of the mythic hero within themselves. Link’s ongoing positive attachment experiences with his family of origin, his role of elder brother, and the spiritual coming-of-age ceremony practiced by his community help ensure that he will valiantly engage with his trauma, allowing him to grow from his experiences rather than languishing in PTSD.

In The Wind Waker, Princess Zelda suffers a different sort of familial support. When players first encounter Zelda, she is the peerless Tetra, captain of a pirate ship. It isn’t until mid-way through the game that both Tetra and Link learn that they are the heroes of legend: Princess Zelda and the Hero of Hyrule, respectively. After Tetra/Zelda learns of her destiny, she is locked away by her father the king to keep her safe. This highlights the ways that an overprotective family system can shield their child so completely from struggle and trauma that they prevent their growth—effectively freezing them in time. While Outset Island’s spirituality fosters Link’s adventurous spirit, the customs and ceremonies of Hyrule cloister and trap Tetra into a submissive role. No longer the aggressive pirate, Tetra/Zelda is sidelined for the remainder of the game until the boss battle. Here she surpasses her family’s expectations and becomes the hero she chooses to be, inviting Link to return to their ocean once more.

TWILIGHT PRINCESS: TRANSFORMATIVE HOPE

The Link of Twilight Princess (2006) is a teenager; for the first time, players encounter a Link whose coming-of-age journey occurs within the developmentally appropriate time frame. In this iteration of Link’s story, players experience the power of posttraumatic growth to transform not just individuals, but entire communities. The Twilight Realm and the Kingdom of Hyrule have been at odds for generations, largely due to the Hylians’ hubris and racism. Convinced of Ganon’s dormancy and disdainful of the Twilight Realm’s existence, the priests of Hyrule seal Ganon into the Twilight Realm, an act that results in violence and trauma for both kingdoms.

Twilight Princess expands the coming-of-age narrative to show the possibilities that await adolescents at the completion of this journey. Link’s posttraumatic transformation allows him to become not just a warrior but a healer as well. In the game, Link has two main forms or selves: the Twilight wolf and the Hylian teenage warrior. Though his initial transformation from human to wolf is brutal (the stress of the transformation leaves Link unconscious), he grows from this shock with the aid of Midna, the eponymous Twilight Princess. Through her friendship, Link expands his knowledge and appreciation of the Twilight realm and in the process, he becomes the ideal ambassador for both kingdoms, using both his twilight and light personae to help resolve the history of trauma between the two nations. Posttraumatic growth offers individuals the ability to reimagine and reconstruct their identity, sense of self, and purpose. In Link’s case, the traumas of losing his friends and being trapped in the body of a Twili wolf force him to see and appreciate perspectives beyond those of his Hylian culture. Link’s journey is one of transcendence as he learns to embrace not only his warrior self but the healer within.

BREATH OF THE WILD: DYSTOPIAN DESTINY

The most recent version of the Zelda legend, released in 2017, finds Link as a teenage amnesiac, struggling to piece together both the hero and person he was 100 years ago. The Hyrule of Breath of the Wild is a world in decline. Once strong and technologically advanced, Link’s world and community have fallen into ruin. Throughout each quest, Link becomes stronger and more capable, regaining parts of his lost memory along the way. While amnesia fends off his PTSD, it also keeps Link separated from his true self and destiny. Ironically, the more memories he finds, the more flashbacks he acquires, the closer he comes to engaging with, and subsequently overcoming, his PTSD. Not since Majora’s Mask has Link been so lost and alone, bereft of the family and community he once loved.

Throughout the game, Link reconnects with friends both old and new as he works to resurrect the Hyrule of his past, piecing together the memories of the previous coming-of-age journey that made him Hyrule’s Hero. (The more memories Link and gamers collect, the more they also learn about another coming-of-age saga: the Spiritual Awakening of Princess Zelda. It is Zelda herself who has kept calamity at bay for the century in which Link slumbered.) Ultimately, these reforged connections with the Zora, Goron, Korok, Rito, Gerudo, and Sheikah communities enable Link to rejoin Zelda and defeat the Calamity that has decimated Hyrule. This serves as an important reminder that such social connections are critical to achieving posttraumatic healing.

COCREATING THE LEGEND OF ZELDA

Community and family of choice, positive responsibility as the Hero of Hyrule, and a motivation to rejoin his compatriots are all components of Link’s posttraumatic growth. However, as Ocarina of Time suggests and Majora’s Mask fully articulates, there are limits to these protective factors. Link’s destiny turns him into not just a hero, but often a child soldier of Hyrule, with the potential for long-lasting negative effects. This aftermath is rarely addressed in the Zelda series itself; in fact, none of the Zelda games in the main canon thus far, save Majora’s Mask, spends time exploring the aftereffects of Link’s quests when the work of rebuilding his life outside of heroism/soldiering would begin. The coming-of-age saga ends with the realization that its struggle never ends. Rather, it is a cyclical journey of growth through trauma via the hero’s journey or monomyth. In the Legend of Zelda, this is represented by starting a new game in the series, complete with all the main players––Link, Zelda, Gorons, Zoras, Kokriri, Sheikah, and Rito––albeit in a different age. In real life, the monomyth expands, enabling individuals to embark on new adventures.

Players are repeatedly drawn to the Zelda franchise because archetypal narratives about growth from trauma resonate universally across cultures. Rewriting trauma narratives can be a powerful tool, allowing individuals to reprocess the traumatic events and thereby gain new insight, understanding, and healing. The Legend of Zelda’s use of the monomyth—the hero’s journey—enables players to revisit familiar characters and experiences anew, growing in their understanding during each play through. The monomyth proves so resonant in part because it is strengthened by repetition. With each act of play, gamers deepen their understanding of both Hyrule and their own capacities for growth and change. As devoted fans of the series can attest, a Hero of Hyrule needs both whimsy and wisdom to heal. Each time the player begins a new game from the Zelda series, they become Link once more, reauthoring their own journey toward growth and change. Like time itself, no legend ever really ends.

JUSTINE MASTIN, MA, LMFT, LADC, E-RYT 200, is the owner/founder of Blue Box Counseling, a private practice in Minneapolis. Justine specializes in working with clients who self-identify as being outside the mainstream—such as those in the geek, secular, and LGBTQIA communities. Justine is also the fearless leader of YogaQuest, a yoga organization that blends geek narratives with yoga to reach this underserved population. In addition to her work in the office/studio, Justine appears at pop culture conventions around the country where she teaches yoga and speaks on geek wellness topics. Justine contributed chapters to Supernatural Psychology: Roads Less Traveled, Daredevil Psychology: The Devil You Know, and Westworld Psychology: Violent Delights in the Popular Culture Psychology Series.

LARIS A A. GARSKI, MA, LMFT, is a psychotherapist and the clinical director at Empowered Therapy in Chicago, IL. She specializes in working with individuals, families, and young adults who identify as outside the mainstream—such as those in the geek and LGBTQIA communities. She regularly appears at pop culture conventions, speaking on panels related to mental health and geek wellness. Her work as a clinical writer and researcher has appeared or is forthcoming in a variety of pop psychology and video game psychology books including but not limited to: Supernatural Psychology: Roads Less Traveled, Westworld Psychology: Violent Delights, and Daredevil Psychology: The Devil You Know.

REFERENCES

Alisic, E., G. S. Hafstad, B. Griese et al. “Posttraumatic Growth in Children and Youth: Clinical Implications of an Emerging Research Literature.” American Journal of Orthopsychiatry, 84, no. 5 (2014): 506–18. http://dx.doi.org/10.1037/ort0000016

Boothby, N., J. Crawford, and J. Halperin, “Mozambique Child Soldier Life Outcome Study: Lessons Learned in Rehabilitation and Reintegration Efforts.” Global Public Health, 1, no.1 (2006): 87–107. Doi: 10.1080/17441690500324347

Calhoun, L. G. and R. G. Tedeschi, “The Foundations of Posttraumatic Growth: An Expanded Framework.” In Handbook of Posttraumatic Growth: Research and Practice, edited by L. G. Calhoun and R. G. Tedeschi, 3–23. Mahwah, NJ: Erlbaum, 2006.

Campbell, J. (2008). The Hero with a Thousand Faces (3rd ed.). Novato, CA: New World Library. First published by Princeton University Press, 1949.

Dotnod Entertainment. (2015). Life Is Strange [video game]. Tokyo, Japan: Square Enix.

Dyregrov, A. and W. Yule. “A Review of PTSD in Children.” Child and Adolescent Mental Health, 11, no. 4 (2006): 176–84. DOI: 10.1111/j.1475-3588.2005.00384.x

Erikson, E. Childhood and Society. New York: W.W. Norton, 2012. First published 1950.

Frankl, V. Man’s Search for Meaning. Boston, MA: Beacon Press, 2006.

Franklin, N. B. Black Families in Therapy (2nd ed.). New York: Guilford Press, 2003.

Fullbright Company, The. Gone Home [video game]. Portland, OR: The Fullbright Company, 2013.

Kaminer, D., S. Seedat, and D. J. Stein. “Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder in Children.” World Psychiatry, 4, no. 2 (2005): 121–25.

Klasen, F., J. Daniels, G. Oettingen et al. “Posttraumatic Resilience in Ugandan Child Soldiers.” Child Development, 81, no. 4 (2010): 1096–1113.

Klasen, F., G. Oettingen, J. Daniels et al. “Multiple Trauma and Mental Health in Former Ugandan Child Soldiers.” Journal of Traumatic Stress, 23, no. 5 (2010): 573–81. DOI: 10.1002/jrs.20557

Minority Media. Papo & Yo [video game]. Montreal, Canada: Minority Media, 2012.

Nietzsche, F. W. Twilight of the Idols and the Antichrist: Or How to Philosophize with a Hammer, edited by M. Tanner, translated by R.J. Hollingdale. New York: Penguin Classics, 1990. First published 1889.

Omocat. The Legend of Zelda Prints: Go Forth, Hero. [gif], 2012, November 11. Retrieved from: http://www.omocat-blog.com/post/35530384447/legend-of-zelda-prints-are-now-available-in-omocat

Sokol, J. T. “Identity Development Throughout the Lifetime: An Examination of Ericksonian Theory.” Graduate Journal of Counseling Psychology, 1, no. 2 (2009): 1–11.

Thatgamecompany. (2012). Journey [video game]. San Mateo, CA: Sony Interactive Entertainment.

Van Slyke, J. “Post-Traumatic Growth.” (2013). Naval Center for Combat and Operational Stress Control. Retrieved from www.nccosc.navy.mil

White, Michael. Maps of Narrative Practice. New York: W. W. Norton, 2007.

* While related, philosophers and mythologists generally hold that these two concepts are distinctly different, with fate signifying a power that predetermines events with generally a negative connotation, and destiny carrying a more positive connotation that carries with it the idea that humans can predetermine their own future.

* Editor’s note: See also “The Quest for Meaning in the Legend of Zelda” in this volume.

* His grandmother and his sister, once Link saves her and reunites her with their family.