Sunday, March 31, 2013

A Glimpse of Time's Expanse



Well, it isn't exactly freedom, but it is a challenge. 

Time travel finally has some use in Radiant Historia, outside of side-quests, I mean. 

In order to go forward in the game, to get through the Granorg border, Stocke needs to show the guards that he is indeed a performer. To do so, he needs to learn sword dancing, though the only person from whom he can learn is back in Alistel. In fact, your teacher is none other than the head of the new recruits, Kiel. 

So, I've gone back to where the mine event starts and now just need to work out how to initiate the teaching scene. Then I should be able to zip back to the "present" and get through to Granorg.
And so, at long last, rather than just being a way of getting around, Radiant Historia's intense time travel has very much increased the puzzle element involved in the game. It's as if the puzzle element present in some Chrono Trigger sidequests (like the one done for the Sun Stone) has been amplified. 

And there're still another 200+ nodes to discover. It might not be as long as other RPGs, but this game is going to be huge.

And here's the Boom

The next chapter that came up in The Work of Poetry is a great example of generational exclusivity. Maybe I'm in the minority, reading John Hollander's The Work of Poetry in my twenties, but I can't think of any reason aside from demographic assumptions for him to include a brief reflection on his poetic generation in his book about poetry. Once again, I find little to relate to.

But, reading it was sort of negatively useful. I didn't relate to any of what he wrote in it directly, because I'm not American and not a poet from his generation. However, reading from the perspective of a person who is both of those things really showed me who I am as a poet. Nonetheless, his talking of his generation kind of miffed me in a broader way. For it really smacks to me of the ideology of Baby Boomers.

I have nothing against baby boomers as individuals. My parents are among them, some of the coolest people I know and most of my favourite writers/artists/musicians/game developers are all Boomers. But their collective philosophy as a generation bothers me. It seems too self-congratulatory, as if they're extra eager to hand off the world to the next generation so that they can excuse themselves from the state they've left it in.

Yet, at the same time, it might be more accurate to say that the construction of the Baby Boomers in things like the magazine Zoomer and this rash of movie franchise and theme revivals from the 70s and 80s we're in is what annoys me. 

Though that subject of my agitation is no less related to some of the things that the boomers have done on a society-wide scale since these constructions are reactions to anxieties about my generation - a whole mob of people who refuse or are unable to follow the life-script of the boomers (and those who came before): Move out from your parent's house, get a salaried/sustainable job (with or without a post-secondary education), get a car, start a family, coast.



 

Saturday, March 30, 2013

In too Narrow a Time Corridor

Things really do get more challenging once you step into Granorg in Radiant Historia. Even the Gran Plain, what seems to be the frontier of this other country, has proven a challenge. Enemy-wise, I mean.

Goblins are afoot, and they're tough buggers - mostly because (surprise, surprise) they attack in formations that don't lend themselves to a smooth chain of place shifting moves and attacks. That their standard attacks take upwards of 40 HP off of any of my character's 200 or so and that they have poison laced arrows doesn't help either.

However, I'm starting to feel the limitations of the game's core time travelling mechanic. Not that it itself is limiting (though I don't have that many points to jump to just yet), but rather it limits gameplay quite a bit.

In a game like Chrono Trigger, time travelling is an excellent mechanic that lets the player feel an incredible sense of freedom. But, in Chrono Trigger, you don't travel to specific points in a specific past, you travel to a general time in which your free to wander.

In Radiant Historia, on the other hand, travelling to specific points in specific timelines leaves the game feeling like it's railroading you. Though, I imagine that once you've unlocked enough nodes and forks the game opens up like a stunningly beautiful flower.

But, for now, I'm still nursing a bulb.

Hollander on Robert Louis Stevenson

Hollander's reflection on Robert Louis Stevenson's A Child's Garden of Verses is an exercise in finding the stars reflected in the bucket of his poetry.

Hollander writes of spooky experiences where, upon returning to Stevenson's collection of children's verses, he finds echoes of things that he's written 20 or more years after having read those verses as a child. Once again, he uses his personal reflections on poetry to underline his point from the first chapter of The Work of Poetry that the best poetry and the greatest poets work diachronically.

But is it effective?

In a blog, I think it would be effective to use personal reflection in this way, but in a published academic work, such a personal reflection seems strange to me. Poetry is a very subjective thing, indeed, but it's also something that should have some universal quality to it as well; it has some element that resonates with everyone.

However, I find nothing to relate to in this chapter. I never read A Child's Garden of Verses (as far as I remember - I suppose that means I've another book to add to my reading list) and find myself in the minority of the students that he's taught who, by his own admission (on page 139), have been more familiar with Stevenson's children's poetry than with the King James Version of the Bible.

What really piqued my interest in this chapter, though, was Hollander's distinguishing between a novel and a romance (in the sense of "a fantastical story," I imagine). Unfortunately, at least in this chapter, he leaves this unexplained.

Friday, March 29, 2013

Going Once...Going Twice...Sold!

Of all the extra stuff going on in The Wind Waker, the auction house is definitely my favourite. The battleship-like minigame, and the ship sinking minigame are fun, but the rush of the auction was something I craved since I set out on this replay.

Now that the craving's been fulfilled (and I'm one heart piece closer to a new heart container, but completely busted), I suppose it's back to the game proper. Unless, of course, I have everything I need to get the Picto Box. If memory serves, I'll also meet Tingle when I come across that Box.

In fact, I might just free him, unless Tingle's being locked up in this game is just something I've stitched together from various memories. Though barring Tingle from being at large is likely something a lot of North American gamer's would like. It's fair to say that they've never played Freshly-Picked Tingle's Rosy Rupeeland, however.

"good Mrs. Murphys"

Hollander goes into a lot of depth when he writes about the psalms. Not just about how they're an ubiquitous presence in much of the poetry and music of the sixteenth to twentieth centuries, but also about their mistranslation throughout the ages.

He works through the psalms' mistranslations by going in close to various passages and comparing their Hebrew to the Latin and the English of various versions, citing what's right and what's wrong with each. Though, this chapter is hardly a study in mistranslation, mistranslation is really the whole point of it. For, at the center of this chapter is "good Mrs. Murphys" (114) - Hollander's affectionate label for school-age mis-recitations of the various psalms that were once, apparently, in wide use in schools.

Being a more reflective than theoretical chapter, really, these mis-recitations are the main thrust of this chapter. Although it goes unsaid, Hollander seems to be suggesting that mis-recitations, or slightly off remembrances of the psalms are excellent examples of poetic work; they rework an established idea into a new and perhaps more intimately meaningful (intentionally or otherwise) form.

Thursday, March 28, 2013

Sand Blasting

The Sand Fortress was a complete disappointment. It had all the rooms you'd expect of a medieval fortress - mess, barracks, kitchen - but as far as my explorations could tell, there was no treasury. Given the presence of some moveable boxes (and the Fortress' nexus status) I'll probably be going back there at some point. Hopefully there will be some loot where before there was none.

I was also kind of disappointed by how you got through the Sand Fortress. Instead of being forced to sneak around to the Fortress' other side, you just plough your way through. It's not even crawling with difficult enemies - writes the guy who's seven hours into the game and at level 17 (the equipment sold out front of the Fortress packs a punch, too).

Oh well, at least things are bound to heat up in Granorg. Maybe this is where I'll learn how to cut down those willow-like plants.

Of

Leave it to a scholar of English to write a whole chapter about that preposition - "of." 

It's certainly esoteric, yet the way Hollander writes it's not a densely difficult read. In fact, his throwing light on the various uses and meanings of "of" really brings that little word to life. Not a mean feat considering the word usually gets clipped to nothing more than a quick "ah" sound in most casual conversation. 

I also really enjoy his choice of poetry to use as examples. The Song of Songs is an endlessly fascinating piece of writing to me, and Whitman's Leaves of Grass sounds like something that I should read - after I've read the rest of my list, of course.

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Will it hurt so good?

It hit me today that the timeline in Radiant Historia is straightforward now, but I've only got 21 out of 236 nodes so far. It's going to get really intricate rather soon, which means there should be a lot of forks and twists, but keeping track of it all for the sake of sidequests and the like is going to be a pain.

Especially, no doubt, once I pass through the Sand Fortress and into Granorg - a completely different country.

"Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote"

Any scholar who goes in depth about Chaucer has to be a good one. Why is that, you might well wonder? Because Chaucer is the poet to turn to when Shakespeare gets too easy. Also, because he's one of the Bard's inspirations. The biggest problem with Chaucer, though, is that his English is 200 years older than Shakespeare's. Because of this difference, Chaucer's spelling, vocabulary, and diction are all much more foreign than even Shakespeare's can be. 

But the rewards of reading Chaucer are sweet indeed. Especially if you're drawn to simply the sound of language. Middle English, unlike the Norman French that heavily influenced it, doesn't have silent letters, so reading it isn't tough to pick up. Though, you still need to learn some different vowel sounds to be able to fully appreciate his works.

Along for the ride in chapter three is how dreams relate to poetry and vice versa. Reading it makes me wonder what Hollander has to say about Blake's "The Angel," though.

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Almost Time to use the Wind God's Wind

The Wind Waker's whimsy's not lost on me yet. The game looks good even on an old, somewhat low-contrast, tube TV. But the game's style is what counts.

That, and it's lack of any concrete companion. Along with wanting desperately to roll bombs rather than just throw them, I was a little stuck on the first dungeon's boss. I'd completely forgotten that you could grapple onto the great Valoo's tail. Once that knowledge kicked back in, (thanks to the unintrusive King of Red Lions) though, the fight was over sooner than it began.

The only thing I didn't get in that dungeon was the Tingle trophy, since, I've not yet met Tingle and haven't bothered to hook up the Game Boy Advance (GBA). Hopefully the Wii U remake will just use the GamePad as the GBA - I don't even know how they'd connect what is now practically an antique with their newest console.

With the first dungeon done, I'm just about ready to get the song to control the wind - which means, more or less, free range of the seas!

Home Sweet Home

Not only is "What You Mean by Home" a short chapter (coming in at 11 pages), it's also a snappy one. Things still get bogged down in some jargon and dense sentence structures, but the second half of the chapter is something of an etymology of the word "home."

The focus on this word is excellent, it's just the kind of thing that I want to find in a book that may appear otherwise dry. Why? Because digging through the dirt of words always reveals a few ancient coins or dazzling fossils. Like the idea that the words "arm" and "sea" and their ilk in Germanic languages don't seem to have come from Indo-European.

More importantly, though, it's in this chapter that he drops the fact that he works on a Mac on us.

Monday, March 25, 2013

Full Metal Assumption

Full Metal Alchemist: Dual Sympathy is a pretty straightforward side-scrolling beat 'em up. Since it was released in the early days of the DS, it also makes use of the system's dual screens to implement a drawn magic system. It's kinda cool like that.

What I wonder though, is whether or not the English title is punning on the console's name. It's a game that uses two screens, and they work in a sort of sympathy with each other.

Actually, that question might be deeper than a lot of the gameplay, but even with a magic system, a side-scrolling beat 'em up is still a side-scrolling beat 'em up.

Lazy Poetry

Poetry continues to do work as Hollander moves from originality to morals. And what's his conclusion? That, like W.H. Auden wrote, "poetry makes nothing happen." It exists to reflect our experiences and our feelings, but it cannot teach or train us. And, again, he slips in some jabs at contemporary poetry, building on his point in the previous chapter that the modern day focus on synchronic originality (sheer novelty) results in bad poetry.

Of course, in a culture where jumping into a swimming pool has its own reality TV show, I think he's got some justification. Is it a novel idea to have a show about different dives, flops, and jumps into a body of water? Sure. But that doesn't mean it should be done.

Though maybe - just maybe - such shows (and by extension, bad poetry) - are just the first messy excursions into something new and strange that will do something.

Sunday, March 24, 2013

Marching Forward

Taking the brunt of enemy assaults is merely tedious in Radiant Historia. Without a quick way to clear out monsters and the like, every battle becomes a strategic conflict in miniature.

Where can I push or pull enemies on their grid to take off the most health of the most units?

How can I shift my turn order around to get the best line up of attacks?

It's neat in the ways that it's different from traditional turn-based RPGs, but it really makes me miss the slash and burn tactics that other games allow for.

Anyway, taking the northern path and heading to the sand fortress was definitely the better choice. To the west lay "Cygnus (danger)," and I think that the bracketed word is really just a translation, not a suggestion. The Sand Fortress has no such word attached to it, and the exclamation mark over it suggests that it's where I should go next.

I must admit, though, for a game with an overworld map like Super Mario World, Radiant Historia gives you quite a bit of free reign (thanks, time travel), so we'll see just how right the Sand Fortress is soon.

Spiralling toward Meaning

The Work of Poetry is a meditative book. However, where monks and yogis and other mystics might chant the same thing over and over again in an effort to drive themselves deeper and deeper into the circular labyrinth of human consciousness until they fall out the other side, Hollander circles around to narrow his meanings.

In his chapter on originality, for example, he spends most of his words working towards clarifying the idea of there being original (as in a novel) things and original (as in generative/layered) things.

In a way, the dual definitions he sets up for "original" mirrors his earlier point about synchronic and diachronic interpretation, but his point here is more about the importance and real primacy that something generative has as opposed to something merely new. Specifically, it seems that what he's driving home is the idea that novel things don't have enough staying power to become entrenched the way that revised things are.

For the sake of an example, Genesis is used throughout this chapter. Yet, what's left unclear to me is if Genesis is something that embodies both sense of "original" or is supposed to be a text that exemplifies something generative, since it's always been the product of a great many revisions and combinations.

Whatever the case, all of his words come down to meaning it's more important to be able to revise something than it is to create an entirely new something - and much more lasting.

Saturday, March 23, 2013

Get the Picto Box! It's Memory Time!

On the one hand it's kind of incredible how much you can do in a game in 20 minutes. On the other, when you're replaying a game it's incredible how much you'll remember about a game during that 20 minutes. All the secrets and nooks and crannies in The Wind Waker get clearer and clearer each time I play through it.

But, even more than finding everything in the game again, I'm looking forward to the Triforce hunt. Yes, that final stretch of the game where you're just sailing across the whole map in search of the Triforce fragments can be tedious, but it's the in-game experience that's most like a pirate treasure hunt, and who doesn't like a good roundabout hunt?

However, I'm some ways away from that part of the game, since I've just started Dragon Roost Cavern. I'm sure my memories of what to do and where will all come back though, and I'll be well on my way through the game.

Beginning The Work

It's been a while since I've read anything theoretical. John Hollander's The Work of Poetry is a good re-introduction to such works, though. There's an easy clarity to his writing, quite possibly present here because most of the chapters of the book are based on talks or lectures.

Nonetheless, there comes a point where the precise meanings that he seeks out by peeling layers of construal back and back and back seem to become redundant. My eyes start skipping around at such points, and such writing makes me wonder how I managed to get through my Master's degree in the first place.

Hollander's explanation of originality is definitely something that I can appreciate. Particularly, I find his division of meaning into synchronic (focused on the now of a thing) and diachronic (focused on the evolution of a thing) to be greatly clarifying. The analogies he uses to elucidate his point about originality's dual nature are also quite helpful.

More than anything, however, I am definitely in agreement with the concept that poets lean more heavily on diachronic originality (originality based on historical precedence, originality that comes from what has come before while also breaking with it).

My time with this book is likely to be relatively long, so I'm glad that it's off to a good start.

Friday, March 22, 2013

Some Backstory, Before Being Beaten Up

There's nothing quite like getting your head handed to you if you're looking for a place to stop in an RPG. Save points are nice, but "Game Over" screens carry so much more finality.

The mines in Radiant Historia are cleared - for now, and so I went back to the node involving the merchant beset by bandits. Taking out the bandits Red Sand Bram and Desert Pirate Hertz was as easy as picking off any standard enemy, but what lay beyond in the actual desert area is just crazy.

Whirlwinds that hurl stones, rogues that attack twice per turn, and enemies that can't be moved around. There's a NPC at the start of the desert cliffs area that tells you about the final sort, but immovable enemies are the least of your worries when you've also got crab monsters that only take one point of damage no matter what.

Aside from the foibles of striking out too far into an area where standard fights give almost double the experience seen up to now, some character development has been afoot! Marco and Raynie reveal their past, and tell Stocke that they'd been in a mine collapse before. Raynie also insists that the reason for the collapse was a monster that went straight for the main support beam - almost as if it was sent to do so.

Now, I'm not a fancy pants game designer (my pants are quite plain, indeed), but I think it's safe to say that this foreshadows a time node somewhere within the game. I'm sure of it.

Closing off the Sourcery

For all of the tedium I find in Pratchett's busting out excellent fantasy concepts (certainly the stuff of symphonic metal lyricists' sweetest dreams) but then making fun of them, he writes an excellent ending. Especially when he says goodbye to one of his recurring characters. At least, I imagine that this is the last book featuring Rincewind, since he winds up staying in the Dungeon Dimensions, after all.

Another thing that struck me while wrapping up with Sourcery, is that Pratchett's style makes two things apparent: that he has a background in journalism, and that he really knows how to show things. The first comes from his judiciously brief rambling descriptions, and the second comes from his books' chapter-less organization.

Without the form of blocks meant to be coherent unto themselves, Pratchett is far more free to dance around the perspectives of a plethora of characters than authors who have definite jumps in their story where they leave one character's head and go into another.

Pratchett uses his lack of chapters to great effect, as each one demands that you re-focus your attention on the events of the book. That's not to say that he always shows and rarely tells, but for at least the first few lines of each new section, all he offers is a setting or character trait with which to ground yourself. Writing like this also makes scenes like those between three of the four horsepeople of the Apocralypse apparently come out of nowhere, making them even odder than their content suggests they'll be. And there is a great deal of charm in this.

However, I don't have another Pratchett to read for quite a while, so that charm (and its attendant frustation of full fantasy potential) will just have to glow like an ember in my memory.

Thursday, March 21, 2013

Closer to Rupeeland

With the way unblocked, Steamy Marsh has now opened up to me. It looks like the bees must be braved, though, for there's nothing else to be done other than going inside there.

Reading an interview with two members of Rosy Rupeeland's development team from the game's mini-site has got me thinking. In that interview, the team says that the sounds and place names are all the game really takes from Zelda games.

For the most part, I'm inclined to agree with this statement of difference since the boss innovation in Rosy Rupeeland compared to most Zelda bosses is like comparing A Link to the Past to Ocarina of Time. Not being able to just run up to a boss and whack it with a sword, Tingle's alternative methods have yielded some awesome boss battles so far.

Though the "Triangle Chips" that are apparently littered around the second continent are definitely references to the Triforce. Yellow triangles in a game based around a Zelda universe character could be nothing else.

With a Wink and a Nudge

Sourcery continues along it's way, going about wrapping up the story as most early Pratchett novels do. There's the moment of reflection, and realization, and then the final confrontation. Rincewind's just realized that he is in fact a wizard, and now has to do something about it before magic causes reality to go entirely out of whack.

Although I'm not quite there yet, in the end, what's kept me from unabashedly enjoying Sourcery is its self-awareness. Rather than making fun of fantasy without being aware that it's doing so, almost all of the passages of exposition or where the narrator delves into a characters thoughts, there's some winking nudge at the genre's mainstays. This is fine, and the whole thing's well-written, but it's just not what I'm after in a fantasy novel.

Just as an amazing video game offers an entirely different world to explore and interact with, one of my major criteria for an excellent fantasy novel (or series) is one that creates such a world. The Discworld is indeed clever, but it's just too tuned into its own purpose.

At any rate, the section where Conina, Nijel, and Creosote are travelling to Ankh-Morpork in the genie's lamp thanks to the fractal properties of reality is simply mind-blowing. In fact, the magic of the Discworld in general is quite possibly the best non-distinct system I've come across.

So, though the ending's still a mystery, Sourcery certainly has some merits.

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Like a Boss

Once again the bosses in Tingle's Rosy Rupeeland leave me impressed. In the Deku Tree dungeon, you fight three plants before heading down to the main boss. To beat them, you need to throw their own poison mushrooms into their gaping, slobbering maws.

The dungeon's final boss is the same, except that you don't just throw the mushrooms at them, you get launched over to them by some sort of bizarre spring vine that sports a single giant eye. The danger comes in the fact that the boss also fires exploding seed pods. Plus, if you get launched without a mushroom, you get chomped instead and lose something to the tune of 1/4 of your health bar.

What's really exciting about this boss fight - and all those that came before - is that they're new in a genre that hasn't seen much innovation in boss fights. Zelda games tend to make their bosses a puzzle, but more often then not it's just a matter of using your newly acquired item in a certain way.

Tingle's Rosy Rupeeland handily gets around that by not usually giving you any new item in its dungeons. Instead, the bosses are fought using both of the DS' screens (even if the top screen's sometimes just a display).

Still, this game makes me wonder about the bosses of Phantom Hourglass and Spirit Tracks - not to mention Zelda's Wii U entry.

Pratchett's Preference?

One of the major things that makes Terry Pratchett such a pleasure to read is his playfulness with fantasy tropes. The character who aspires to be a stereotypical barbarian is just a waif and grocer's son. The daughter of the greatest barbarian ever aspires to be a hairdresser though blood lust pounds through her veins whenever men and sharp things share proximity. Wizards roost when they've beaten some lesser mage, building a tower to fortify themselves.

Even if you haven't widely read the fantasy genre and aren't intimately familiar with its tropes, he inverts and alters them enough that it's possible to work backwards to them. In that way, Pratchett does the fantasy genre a great service, and manages to entertain while being a kind of inside out Coles Notes for an entire sort of literature.

But, as fun as his books can be to read, it seems that his plots suffered a bit in his earlier books. Maybe it isn't portrayed grandly enough - the failure to make epic an inevitable mage war being yet another of his inversions - but the story of Sourcery just doesn't hum or glow. It's as though fantasy is simply Pratchett's chosen vehicle for some teasing criticism of a literary genre and nothing more. He hits the necessary notes, and includes the essential movements, but as a whole Sourcery just doesn't feel fantasy-like enough.

Yet.

With another 1/5 of the book to go, there could be an upset, but as I remember this lingering feeling that the fantasy elements of Pratchett's work were merely a vessel being what cooled my enthusiasm for him years ago, I'm about as optimistic as a plastic bottle is likely to shatter.

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Opening a whole new set of Chronicles

After finally getting all the necessary parts, I've got the Wii rigged up to an old tube TV I've had since my undergrad days. Needless to say, the picture quality is a little rough on the newest and sharpest of games, but they're still entirely playable. Strangely enough, adjusting the screen option on the Wii system menu to wide screen gives the most readable text - definitely of great importance for a game like Xenoblade Chronicles.

When I first started this title months ago, I felt overwhelmed. The world is huge, the exploration seems unlimited (letting players jump adds to this appearance), and the reign on the player seems incredibly free. For the most part, this freedom comes from the game's third person perspective, something I've never seen in an RPG before, having my roots in SNES era (J-)RPGs and their modern equivalents. Though, come to think of it, Quest 64 had a similar perspective.

Anyway, because there's so little railroading (no guards at gates, or companions calling you back from invisible bounds) it's a bit difficult to figure out what to do next. However, just as with the ability to save anywhere solves the issue of never having a save point when you need one, the game's got the problem of direction figured out. At the top of the screen (clearly visible even with my rig) is an arrow and a counter. The arrow points the way, and the counter shows how many steps are between you and your destination.

So, though the visual going may be rough at times, I'll never get lost in this game. This bonus should make the game's tens of hours fly by, however periodically I pop this one in.

A Simple Impression

Just past the halfway mark, Sourcery begins to look more like Pratchett's current works. I don't think he has two characters fall for each other as quickly as Conina and Nijel do here, though.

Yet,  things are starting to come together now. The book's major plot arcs have become clear, a handful of new characters was introduced, and things are actually happening in disparate places. These elements super charge the book and give it a true Pratchett feel.

Otherwise, the only thing of especial notes is that Nijel, the scrawny barbarian in training, reminds me   of the old and frail Junglo from Tingle's Rosy Rupeeland. Simply in their matching description, and each of their - apparently shared - idiosyncrasies.

Monday, March 18, 2013

'Shroom Chucker

Zelda games have this way of making me feel like an idiot when I miss something integral to going forward. Especially when I've "tried everything." Somehow, in these situations, something is always missed.

It's not technically a Zelda game, but the same thing happened in Tingle's Rosy Rupeeland.

Faced with the plant mini-bosses in the Deku Tree dungeon, I completely missed that you can pick up the mushrooms that the plants spit. To my credit, all I needed to know was that, and I was chucking mushrooms at plant mouths like mischievous costumed teens chucking eggs at houses. And, let me tell you, those plants were just about as safe.

Too Few Characters?

My reading pace has slowed down from a sprint to a stroll lately, but Sourcery sags in the middle.

Things are happening, and events are being put into motion,  but it's all happening at what seems to be a snail's pace. The best reason that I can come up with for this is that Pratchett doesn't have enough perspective characters in the book to work with to advance things along varied strings. Or, at the very least, he doesn't mix up the order of perspective characters very well in this book.

Generally speaking, Sourcery flows something like this: Rincewind and Conina, the Wizards, the general populace, and repeat. Later Pratchett books are bristling with characters, each as sharp as the last, who all contribute their own bit to the overall plot. The sort of plodding onwards that Sourcery delivers, though, falls short of what I expect from Pratchett.

Still, the jokes and asides are entertaining and interesting, so I'm willing to press onwards. Even if Rincewind and Conina's plot is taking far too long to fully develop.

Sunday, March 17, 2013

Gazing into the Wild Blue Skies

For all of their complexity, I'm surprised that just a brief play session was enough to refresh my memory of where I am and what I'm supposed to be doing in Dragon Quest IX: Sentinels of the Starry Skies.

Currently in the village of Zere (where everyone has some sort of a Scottish brogue), I'm supposed to head further north to Brigadoom. Why am I to head there? To find the Wight Knight who has seduced away a king's daughter. Standard fantasy fare so far, and my crew of warrior, thief, and mage completes that smorgasbord.

After my refresh session, I also remember that the game's fairly loose in terms of direction, or at least seems so, since there isn't a whole lot of railroading on the overworld.

What bothered me about the game though, is that pressing "Y" did nothing. It seems I've played too much Radiant Historia lately, and just expect RPGs to have environment interaction actions in them now.

Speaking of References

Wow, two rather obscure references in such a short space. In my last entry about Sourcery, I wondered about the problem of authors dating themselves and their work when they use referential comedy, but the last section that I read gives me reason to reconsider.

Why?

Well, if what's referenced is missed by most readers, then it becomes a sort of byword for those in the know. So, if Terry Pratchett still gets read 50, 100, or 500 years from now, the reference to your stock Bond villain might become something that draws a cult following. Or, that tickles only a certain groups of readers.

This state of affairs would not be unlike the references in the section where Rincewind and Conina meet the Seriph. This introduction to this section (pretty much all of it) makes almost excessive reference to the medieval Middle Eastern guild of assassins known as the hashishin. Building on that is a reference to Coleridge's poem "Kublai Khan" in the Seriph's question to Conina about her dulcimer proficiency.

Saturday, March 16, 2013

A Quick Chip

Having only had enough time for a quick session, my progress in Radiant Historia's almost negligible. Yet, battling more monsters, and working my way deeper into the mine has shown some of the game's drawbacks and some of its potential.

The battle system is definitely a nice variation on the usual turn-based system usually found in J-RPGs. However, the fact that you need to string attacks together to attack more than one enemy (at least for now) makes battles a little tedious.

At first this system's novel, and it introduces an element of strategy that's appreciated. Ultimately, though, the battle system suffers from the same thing that Final Fantasy games suffer from: A numbing wash-rinse-repeat cycle of spamming every enemy you meet with high powered, group attacking spells. The only difference with Radiant Historia is that what you wind up using over and over again in battle actually involves three steps.

On the exploration side of things, some progression in the game's puzzles is evident. Though right now the extent of it is the game's having two explosive barrels side by side, and two clearly seen rows of rocks to blow through. Still, I've plenty of the game to get through yet, so there may be a real head-scratcher eventually.

The Most Important Thing in Referential Comedy...?

When I came across a reference to the classic Bond villain in one of Sourcery's jokes, it hit me. Terry Pratchett's panache for humour shines through in every descriptive passage, but because of that, the Discworld series risks being anchored to a time.

Granted, it's a time that's well within the span of any author's life-time, but if Pratchett's books are unearthed 1000 years from now, there will be some questions asked about the structure of 20th to 21st century referential humour. Top among these questions is likely to be "What is he even writing about here?"

Unless, of course, things like the typical, bald, white cat stroking, scheming villain have become common place enough to transcend time - and maybe just as importantly - culture. Because if some piece of pop culture spreads from nation to nation, it's either incredibly well-timed or it taps into something that goes beyond stock characters in a series of pulp spy novels. 

Friday, March 15, 2013

Mining the Past

Having learned how to use explosives, I travelled back to the Alma Mine section of Radiant Historia, hoping to be able to get into the place. Having successfully done so, I've been able to confirm that at some point in the game you must get a sword upgrade of some sort.

You see, there are these crystals scattered throughout Alma Mine, and if you strike them a dialogue box pops up and says that you couldn't break off a piece. This is sad news, of course, since a part of such a crystal is probably useful for one or other of the game's side-quests.

Delving back in time via the White Chronicle has also reminded me of the need to manage a party larger than the three active battle members I've got. Rosch, all the way back at level 9, is a little bit behind everyone else as they leap toward level 14.

Now, passive party members earn experience just as active members do. In my current configuration, Rosch is a passive member of my party - he could be added to the three and thus made active, but I've chosen not to yet. But what I wonder is, though it might not make sense in the context of the game, why the experience system isn't set up to give experience to all possible party members at any given time so that when you later link up with any given party member your levels are more even.

Such a system would definitely cut down on grind time, and that could be very useful in any RPG.

Getting back to Pratchett

Returning to Terry Pratchett's Discworld series after years away is like getting back to an old, cheerfully witty friend after a long separation. Every few pages of Sourcery yield a smile, and although it's one of the early entries in the series, it's still a solid read. Honestly, I don't see what people have against the adventures of Rincewind. Even if, as all authors do, Pratchett improved with age and experience, the imagery, metaphors, and plot still entertain and even frolic across the imagination.

Perhaps, though, things will go south once Ankh-Morpork is left. Assuming, of course, that Rincewind, Conina, and the Archchancellor's hat actually manage to set out for Klatch before Coin the Sourcer grows bored with Unseen University and stalks them in an inevitable quest to retrieve the hat. Being quasi-possessed by the spirit of your dead father will drive you to things like that, after all.

Thursday, March 14, 2013

Now You're Playing with Fire

How did that turtle ever find its way out of this shell? All of the stairwells, and bombable walls, and ice blocks, and just everything. This must be the last full dungeon because the whole damn thing's a puzzle. It's enough to make me either draw up my own map with more detail, or to just get a walkthrough.

There's just the boss key left to find now, but the search was well worth it. Even the dialogue box that opens up when you find the dungeon's item - the magic rod - is elated about it, sounding more like a little voice in Link's head goading him on to arson, rather than just describing what he's found. But, wow, does it merit such glee.

The hookshot takes a lot of enemies out in one hit, but this magic rod does the same thing and adds a little fire animation to the mix, making Link's rampages through this dungeon's drear rooms all the more satisfying.

If only the rod's magic fire could melt walls into ramps - I'd be well on my way to the boss key and beyond.

Milk, Seals, and other Essentials for ending Chinese Brush Paintings

Before concluding her An Introduction to Chinese Brush Painting, Cherrett goes over some advanced techniques. There are some that involve varying the water content of your paint, or the order in which you apply water and ink/colour, or crumpling the paper for a textured appearance. The strangest by far though, is using milk either as a kind of wash. Weirder still is that the higher the fat content of the milk, the better the milk will show up.

Perhaps there are some Chinese brush painters locally, since homogenized milk is a favourite at one of the local grocery stores.

Rather appropriately for her subject, Cherrett also includes a brief section on calligraphy and seals - the final touches to any brush painting. The tables showing various seals and various characters for different weather that she includes are no more than 3/4 of the page in size, but are still very informative. And, of course, they offer a glimpse into Chinese culture, much more than any of the previous tables or even whole sections, in fact.

Insights into how some characters changed from clear ideograms into more stylized Chinese, and into some of the sayings on seals ("An intimate friend at a remote corner of the world," and "Do not envy glory and profit," for example) are greatly appreciated, even if they're only pages from the book's end.

To anyone interested in Chinese Brush Painting, this is an excellent guide that holds your hand for the basics, but lets it go almost immediately thereafter. For the curious, however, this is just an art guide with a few pages worth of explicit trivia and cultural information.

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Thinking about leaving the Shell

The detailed maps of the 3D Zelda games have spoiled me. Jumping my way through Turtle Rock, I wound up getting lost - both because I had forgotten where there were still keys to be found and where I needed to bring those keys to progress. On both of these points, Link's Awakening's dungeon maps offer no help since they're just displays of non-descript boxes joined together where there are doors between rooms.

However, the compass guided me to a room with a chest that I had missed. On the way, keys were found, and I was able to press onwards. Though, Turtle Rock feels like it's the longest dungeon in the game, possibly because it seems almost impossible to get the dungeon's item before the map, compass, or both. In the game's previous dungeons things would almost always wind up like that, but here I've had no such luck.

Nonetheless, the dungeon's fire-based item is almost mine. And so, Turtle Rock - and the game itself - begin to draw to a close.

Naming Names

When Cherrett moved into "figure painting" I was expecting the paucity of trivia in the book to be no more. However, I was wrong.

Up to the  point Cherrett has done little to bring in actual lore. Yet, when she mentions such legendary figures as Chung K'uei, it's hard to imagine her doing much else than devoting a sentence or two to these famous names. Cherrett does nothing of the sort, though. Instead she repeats the names of famous figures throughout her chapter on figures.

It's fine to know such names, but it would be inspiring to actually read what gave them an enduring name in the first place.

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Hope for the Future

In Radiant Historia pressing the "Y" button swings your sword. This is a small feature that doesn't do much at first. It's how you can trigger pre-emptive battles on the field, and, judging from their reaction to it, can be used to cut down vines after some sort of upgrade. But this feature hints at what will hopefully be a bigger part of the game as it goes forward: Actual environment interaction a la Golden Sun.

So far, all I've picked up is the ability to set bombs on barrels, but this alone has opened up a few extra paths. Most of these paths don't go anywhere yet, but my hope is that with your knowledge of explosives and sword-swinging abilities the game will gain some puzzle elements.

There's nothing wrong with a straight RPG, but adding puzzles to it makes it so much more than a series of fetch quests or grind sessions. Real brain teasers are one of the main things that made the Lufia games on the SNES so memorable, after all.

Radiant Historia already brings time travel to the RPG mix, and puzzle-solving (which could also fit in nicely with the game's timeline(s) system) would surely sweeten its blend.

A Trivia Trickle like a Thinly Painted Line

Once Cherrett starts getting into the various subjects of Chinese Brush Painting, she also gets into the trivial tidbits and cultural information that I expected.

These details are given directly in short, chapter-ending sections that are about 1/5 of a page. Though, these direct tellings are so straightforward that you'd easily be able to organize what the subjects Cherrett describes symbolize into a table. No extra detail is given aside from various subjects and what they symbolize - whether it's a specific month, season, emotion, or state of being.

However, as Cherrett writes about painting birds and insects, and animals, she continually emphasizes the importance of making them appear lively. In so doing she'll often mention things like sparrows being loud and cheeky, or how elephants need to appear heavy and strong. Some of these references to culture are similar enough to Western ideas that their distinct Chinese qualities are obscured (like the elephants being heavy and strong), but others offer an indirect look at Chinese attitudes towards various creatures (such as sparrows being cheeky).

Along with this trickle of information, Cherrett includes a wealth of fabulous brush paintings that vividly show lively, animated subjects.

Monday, March 11, 2013

On the Wrong Side of Historia

Hunkering down and getting into the story of Radiant Historia has shown me something about myself.

I'm a terrible judge of action when I don't have enough information. At least in games like Radiant Historia.

What sets this game apart from most RPGs is its timeline mechanic. This aspect of the game involves you marking down key events in a book called the White Chronicle, which you can then travel back to at almost any point during the game. However, the game's timeline isn't as straightforward as a name involving a derivation of the word "history" may imply. There are forks and dead ends, and having seen less than 10% of key events the game has to offer so far means there're even more of both yet to come.

Yet, to record an event you need to play through it, and so at the forks you're faced with a choice, so far only between two options. All the same, up to this point, I have yet to make a best choice (one that doesn't result in a dead end) on my first time through.

Nonetheless, the game keeps track of how many events you've played through, and so perhaps there's some sort of reward for seeing everything - including all of the dead ends.

Too Artsy?

Pauline Cherret writes with the authority of an experienced teacher. Each page of An Introduction to Chinese Brush Painting reads like an excerpt from an art class.

However, this means that the emphasis of the book is on actually brush painting rather than giving a sense of the art's trivia and history. The subtitle-esque line "technique - light - color - composition - style" on the cover should have been clear that this is an instructional work rather than an informative one, but still.

This book's a delight to just read because it gives a good sense of how someone with authoritative experience in an artistic field communicates that experience. And getting samples of such a tone and register is important work for anyone looking to write such characters at some point or other.

Getting back to the instructiveness of the book, though, some of the diagrams are a little bit cluttered by too many arrows and description. Surely you could learn how to brush paint from this book, but it would need to be studied as much as a teacher's method or your own lecture notes.

Sunday, March 10, 2013

Further Suggestions

Turtle Rock is turning out to be more of a pain than I remember. It's pretty different from the dungeon of the same name in A Link to the Past, mostly because of all the lava and such.

Two things from this dungeon that should make a return in future Zelda games are the floor tiles that suck you in (particularly for 3D Zelda games), and the boxes that you push and then direct to fill in empty spaces. Either of them could lead to many a fresh puzzle possibility. Though seeing a boss that you've got to throw a ball at in 3D might also be cool.

The blue tunic might keep you from death, but the red one rains down destruction so effectively I've hardly lost any hearts.

Brushing Up


From page one of An Introduction to Chinese Brush Painting onwards, Pauline Cherret presents her information in a direct, concise manner that's very well edited. However, the book is dedicated to actually teaching the art of Chinese Brush Painting, rather than informing about it.

As such, the introduction jumps right into your essential equipment. Any bits of history are tossed out along the way, sticking where they will and being almost entirely page dressing.

Nonetheless, Cherret's instructions are easy to understand, though I'm not sure how effective learning something like painting from a book would be. After all, it's easy enough to write out a description for a certain brush stroke, but trying to emulate said stroke without a final assessment or without help along the way seems ill-advised. Practising on your own might also be difficult, since the paper necessary for Brush Painting doesn't come cheap. So this could be a rather pricey hobby.

Aside from the book's teaching text, some tidbits of trivia are found in the numerous photo and painting captions.

Hopefully, as the book's techniques get more complex more such information's given. The paragraph explaining what flowers mean is a dense and curious one. I only hope there are more like it within.

Saturday, March 9, 2013

Not Such a Grind

Stock learns the attack spell "Fire" at level 10. Raynie already has the "Lightning" spell. So, this makes me wonder what element Marco will have. Unless, of course, he's the default party's healer.

Yes, another grinding session in Radiant Historia, another observation of the game's battle system up close. Along with everything I need to pick up the story again.

Curiously enough, it's actually easier to grind when the monsters are visible on the field than when encounters are tied to random numbers of steps. There's simply something about their being concrete. Maybe it makes it seem like less time needs to be spent because you can learn the number of monsters per area and gauge the time it'll take to grind based on that.

Whatever the reason, the grinding's through for now. Back to Radiant Historia's plot.

Interlude

The Interlude that's included after the end of the White-Luck Warrior does a lot of legwork - quite literally so, in fact. It sees Achamian and Mimara reach Ishual while being pursued by Sranc, and finding it a dead place.

I definitely trust that Bakker's got it all figured out already, but I'm not sure that even picking up A Dance With Dragons or learning about Chinese brush painting will distract me from the threads that he's left untied. Though, more than likely, I'll dig into the Prince of Nothing trilogy before the conclusion to The Aspect Emperor trilogy is seen.

Friday, March 8, 2013

Returning to the Sea

I really miss the ability to roll bombs. When I arrived on Dragon Roost Island for the first time, and had to clear away some rubble my first instinct was to clear the distance to a rock with a nice roll. Instead, all Link can do in The Wind Waker is lob bombs in a general sort of arc.

Ah well, at least the exploration is still relatively fresh.

Delving into long since forgotten about caves and then catching vague memorized glimpses of what's available beyond the limits of my current inventory is almost as thrilling as revealing those secrets the first time around. That, and the sheer immensity of the sea promises a great deal of adventure.

I think that's what really captures the imagination when playing The Wind Waker. Skyward Sword has a big open sky, but what's in the sky? Nothing but clouds and clouds and clouds. And what's in a big rolling sea? Monsters, and treasures, and uncharted isles, and adventure - that's what.

Along with its timelessly whimsical art style, perhaps that's what makes The Wind Waker an enduring Zelda title. Human curiousity is so much more aroused by sea than by sky. It's almost as if we're seafarers rather than sky searchers by nature.

When White-Luck Runs Out

Well, surprise of surprises. The map is found, and intact, too. Vellum truly is an incredibly durable thing to write on.

So, The White-Luck Warrior ends on a strangely upbeat note. Sure, the Father of Dragons is loosed on the world, Mimara and Achamian are the only sane members of their party left, and Sranc war horns sound in the distance, but everything feels like it's going to work out. Mimara's statement that she's tired of Sauglish sounds as casual and seminal as someone sitting down to a big meal with a reconciled family saying "let's eat."

Yet, she's still been raped - something perhaps shielded from us and from her because of her having been a whore and her whispering forgiveness to her rapist from her judging eye. And Cleric has been killed, struck down in a fit of Erratic madness.

Perhaps, as with so many fantasy stories, the discovery of new equipment in the Coffers has been enough to buoy their spirits. The creation of more Qirri's sure to help, and the introduction of Sarl as a kind of Gollum makes this a curious trio to traipse through this book's Mordor, since they'll no doubt have to pass through Golgotterath on their way to Ishual.

Thursday, March 7, 2013

Gleek-likes, Rupees, and the Dreamt

I fought my way into Turtle Rock, beating the giant turtle head reminiscent of one of Gleek's heads, and all I got for it was one rupee. A piece of heart would be a bit much, but even some arrows or bombs would have been better than a rupee.

Getting yet another rupee is enough to make me think about shoplifting from the village store. I really have no reason to go back there at this point anyway, and so have nothing to fear from powerful shopkeepers.

Before getting into the penultimate dungeon, however, I saw a brief scene between Link and Marin. She's trapped on a platform accessible only by hookshot, Link saves her and she stutters about her feelings for him before being called away by Tarin.

It's a far shorter scene and has less buildup, but it's impact is similar to when Link leaves Kokiri Forest in Ocarina of Time. But if this whole game is a dream, what's it mean for a part of it to have a crush on the dreamer?

'Here, There Be Dragon'

In an old interview, Bakker stated that while writing Neuropath he itched to get back to writing fantasy. Yet he also spoke of some exhaustion in writing such long books, and that same exhaustion is starting to show in The White-Luck Warrior.

He continues to keep a small stable of adjectives that he bandies out pretty often, but more than anything are vague grammatical and stylistic ticks. Like his insistence that "dual" can be taken to mean "duel." Or so it seems in sentences like "So much of the Gnostic armoury was devoted to sorcerous duals or the mass killing of mundane Men..." Perhaps this is yet another thing I've missed in the Prince of Nothing trilogy, and "dual" is just an unknown to me variation of "duel."

Nonetheless, it's hard to be a weary reader as Bakker ends this volume with an underground battle with the ancient father of dragons, Wutteät.

I still have to read the final few pages, but it looks like Achamian won't be coming out of this with that hard sought map to the ancient Dunyain settlement Ishual.

Wednesday, March 6, 2013

The Power of Colour Revealed


The extra dungeon in the DX edition of Link's Awakening is far less difficult than expected. This lack of difficulty is actually rather disappointing, since it puts the Game Boy Colour's namesake ability to good use.

In said dungeon there're some radial switch puzzles, a boss that needs to be hit consecutively enough times to turn red, and floor tiles that bounce you until they turn from green to yellow to red to nothing. But it took all of 10 minutes to finish.

This brevity and simplicity (though the puzzle concepts introduced are refreshing for a Zelda game) reminds me of the "Cave of Ordeals"-type areas in Wind Waker and Twilight Princess. Plus, you meet a Great Fairy at the end of the dungeon who grants you the power of colour - a red or blue tunic that increases your offensive or defensive power.

Reading in a walkthrough that zero deaths gives you a different ending, and thus the blue tunic is a better choice, I went with red since I've already bought a handful of farms on this play-through. Maybe, after I've worked my way entirely through my Games List I'll do a no death run of every Zelda game - maybe.

No More Momemn

The Momemn chapters become much more interesting in the latter half of The White-Luck Warrior. Up to that point they are very much about Esmenet, the Empress of Kellhus' Empire, and the people that she must contend with. Yet, her opponents were all but shades, so indistinct were they. Once Esmenet turns fugitive, however, those close to her become much more fleshed out - regardless of whether they are friend or foe. The final chapter dealing with Momemn continues this trend, but it also makes me wonder if most of the book's Momemn-set scenes couldn't have just been cut in favour of spinning out the story of Esmenet in hiding. Though, were the Momemn chapters to be seriously cut, Kelmomas would be left out of most of the book. And who could go on without knowing more about the child that reverts to cannibalism when hiding from the invading Shrial Knights in the palace's labyrinthine underbelly?

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

She Sells Seashells by the Sea Sword

Twenty is all it takes. Maybe there's something there, and maybe there isn't. But if the idea is that the number's supposed to reflect an age, I don't think you'd get a dialogue box that tells you to put your name on it right away.

Yes, I'm talking about the sword upgrade you get from the Seashell Mansion in Link's Awakening.

Considering how blocky and rounded your first sword looks, the upgrade looks like it should be from another game. Maybe there's another connection between Link's Awakening and A Link to the Past here - perhaps the better sword's design is based on one of the Master Sword upgrades from that SNES classic.

The animation for getting it is the stuff of speed metal, as well. See for yourself:


The Nearing End

The latter half of chapter twelve sees circumstances curiously reversed.

Sorwa's sections become more and more about his inward struggles with his perceived duties to Yatwer, his desire for Serwa, and his fear of being found out as a non-believer by either Moenghus or Serwa. All of this is enfolded in Serwa's giving quick history lessons as the three travel through a series of ruins on their way to the Nonmen kings.

On the other hand, the history textbook quality of those sections following the Army of the South in the Great Ordeal remains, but their content lights up with the flash of battle and sorcerous cants.

The effect of switching the external/internal roles of the two sections is a sense of progress. This sense is perfect, since with only two chapters of The White-Luck Warrior left, it's a good way to go about bringing things to an incomplete climax.

However, because of all of the grim and horrifying actions of the Sranc, the reveal that Moenghus and Serwa are this series' Jamie and Cersei was watered down for me. All the same, Bakker's treatment of the reveal of their coupling and how Sorwa happens upon it is enough to keep the revelation's essence impactful.

Monday, March 4, 2013

A Pressing Issue

Playing Link's Awakening on an emulator spoiled me. Whenever I'd finished what I'd set out to do, or had to end a session, I'd just save my state and go. Playing it on an actual Game Boy, though, means that I need to use the bizarre "mash-all-the-buttons" method to bring up the save screen. It's a better method than having to reset after a save on the NES, but still. 

On such an old, used Game Boy Colour, such as the one I have, the buttons aren't entirely springing into my thumbs as I press down across them. At least, the Start and Select buttons aren't. 

Anyway, the Eagle's Tower is complete, and I picked up the Organ of Evening Calm. Hopefully the next dungeon offers up the Keytar of Late Night Regret.

A Nested Perspective

The final chapter that follows the happenings on the Istyuli Plains in The White-Luck Warrior has a lot of perspective switching. Beyond showing the rising action of the book, it also puts another literary element of the book on display.

Those sections about the Army of the South aren't told so much as they are delivered. These parts, concentrating on the acts and struggles of King Umrapathur as he battles the Sranc Horde following the Great Ordeal, are written in third person unlimited. It's a clever way to avoid another perspective character, but thrown into the midst of sections from Serwa's and Proyas' viewpoints, it's textbook quality is very apparent.

In context, however, what might be a dry way of delivering a part of the story, is anything but. Those sections told from certain perspectives have a certain elasticity to them, as if the people through which we're reading them have a capacity to change their fate, or have yet to have their fates decided. The parts dealing with the Army of the South, however, are given the tone of a foregone conclusion. Since their struggle is very much a futile one, this tone buttresses that sense of futility excellently.

Sunday, March 3, 2013

More Links to the Past?


Fi may be annoying when she badgers you about getting more hearts because you're nearly dead, but the pre-Ocarina of Time Zelda games are far more ruthless. The insistent digital beeping that plays the second you drop below two or three hearts has the urgency of a wide open bleeding wound - and far before such things could be depicted graphically.

So, dropping those four columns in Eagle's Tower actually destroys a whole floor. Who knew? It's a good thing there wasn't anything secret up there, though the miniboss you face there is curious.

He calls bats to attack you which is reminiscent of the fight with Ganon in A Link to the Past. The miniboss himself is a stalfos, from the look of him, who plays a flute to summon these bats, just as the skull kid in most 3D Zelda games plays a flute either for fun or to summon dread marionettes.

Zelda bosses across the series may be repetitive, but at least their being so makes it a bit easier to speculate and suss out just where certain ideas surfaced and where, possibly, the remnants of original ideas remain.

After all, Link's Awakening was originally going to be a port of A Link to the Past (as briefly mentioned here), so maybe the sprite is a recycle of the flute boy, and the bats are a recycle from the Ganon fight. They don't look like your regular keese, after all.

Pushing forward on the Slog

Somehow, Achamian's being bound seems like the only way that things on the Achamian/Mimara/Skin Eaters front could move forward. Of course, they've now reached the library at Sauglish, and thus the Coffers beneath them, but having Achamian at the ready to answer Mimara's questions and to hold her inquiries back from Lord Kosoter and Cleric wasn't letting their characters progress very far at all. So, after he refuses the Qirri and is bound for it, since his mutiny is much more feared than Mimara's, she's finally free to push into both of their mysterious characters.

And push she does, though her judging eye reveals just as much as her questions do. For something incredibly magical, Bakker's descriptions of what she sees with it are simple. Black and light, you might even say. But that simplicity is all that's needed, especially since he weaves whole tapestries about their surroundings with his words.

Leaving the subtler matters of magic to readers' imaginations definitely works in his favour. Though that's often the best way to do magic whenever a system's not being explained. After all, even those in the world of the series not versed in sorcerous lore wouldn't know its workings, and as observers we aren't meant to see things from such a position.

Saturday, March 2, 2013

Second, the Point


Backlighting saved handheld gaming.  Why something that may be rather obvious? Because it only recently really became so to me.

It happened while I was playing Link's Awakening on an actual factual Game Boy Colour. It was almost impossible to position myself so that everything on the screen was clear. Without bright, directly overhead light, it's impossible to properly play on it.

Perhaps it was only technological limitations, but it makes me wonder why it took until a special edition of the Game Boy Advance for Nintendo to add backlghting to their handhelds. If their presence in the market had begun with the Game Boy it might make sense, but since it started with over a decade of the Game & Watch (G&W) games, waiting so long makes little sense.

Though, maybe the screen's visibility wasn't so much of a problem with the old G&W games, since they were pure LCD and had only black and not black for their colour palette  Comparing them to modern handhelds is like comparing black and white tube TVs to flat screen hi-def models, but nonetheless.

Increased graphical fidelity definitely helped see handhelds along and helped to keep them relevant. Without backlighting, however,  all of that output power would be for naught as players struggled to even see what was happening on their palm-sized screen. So that extra bit of luminescence definitely saved the handhelds.

Worm Lights only ever lit part of the screen, after all.

Confessions in Momemn

Thus far in The Aspect Emperor series, the rule's been that chapters set in and around the empire's capital of Momemn are rather dull. This tedium doesn't come from a lack of interesting characters or compelling situations, there are plenty of each in them, but we're given no real foothold. Writing as someone who started with The Judging Eye rather than The Darkness That Comes Before, I really felt that any thing based in Momemn was a slog in itself to get through - I just want more Achamian and Mimara, and more Sorwa.

That all changed in chapter twelve. Esmenet set out with her trusted Imhailas to hire an assassin to kill her brother-in-law, and while she's out the palace is invaded by his forces. This forces her into hiding, and where better to hide an empress than with a whore. Of course, the whole situation is complicated by the fact that the whore Imhailas brings her to is his own, and this forces Esmenet to re-confront her own past as a prostitute and how she sold her only daughter into the same life to survive a famine.

Bakker can truly write battle scenes and searching philosophical sections, but this chapter has the same feel as much of A Song of Ice and Fire. Why? Because Bakker finally gives depth to some characters while building up proper back stories for others.

Doing these two things finally makes the characters in the most character-driven sections of the series (so far as I've read it) come to life where before they seemed almost like puppets on a string. Now we've just to see how they can dance without that sort of guidance.

Friday, March 1, 2013

First, the Obvious

Backlighting saved handheld gaming.

Following the Great Ordeal

For all of the pomp of chapter ten, only the outlines of things stand out. Perhaps this is because Bakker doesn't keep as tight a focus as he does when he's writing about Achamian and Mimara. Instead, when Bakker's following the march of Aspect Emperor Kellhus' Great Ordeal, he follows Sorwa, or Kellhus' son Kayutas, or Kellhus' Exalt-General Proyas. He covers just about as many when he's writing about Achamian's band, but the miles between those marching in the Great Ordeal shows more readily than the space between two people in the same party and the creature stalking them. Nonetheless, the glimpses into Kellhus' thought and action are indeed curious, and well pulled off for their relative non-humanness. But I can't help but feel like I'm missing something not having read the Prince of Nothing trilogy before coming to The Aspect Emperor. I feel almost as though there's some clue in those books as to whether or not Kellhus is a god or a demon. Sorwa's ongoing interactions with Yatwer are like stone reliefs, so striking is their detail. Though the chapter's final development holds the most promise as it sounds as if he, Kellhus' beautiful daughter and leader of the Swayali witches, Serwa, and Kellhus' son Kayutas are going to be held by the Nonmen. All as part of the pact that Kellhus has formed with them for the sake of security and trust. Putting those three into such close quarters is bound to lead to some very interesting moments.