Dreamstate

I never got carsick playing this. Not once. 

As a child of the late 80s/early 90s I was a proud owner of a Game Boy, the inexplicably gender-specific portable device courtesy of Nintendo. My parents, in their infinite wisdom and generosity, decided the best way to pacify me on long car trips (of which there were many) and trips to my grandparents (of which there were even more). I adored the Gameboy both for what it was and what it afforded -  gaming on the go! Official, transportable Nintendo games! I was sold. Rather, mom and dad were. The requisite title was Tetris, of course, but there were other games that mesmerized me beyond the gratifying disappearing of bricks. Of particular quality and experience is the subject of today's Video Game Week piece about neglected and forgotten games - The Legend of Zelda: Link's Awakening.

Zelda and Nintendo (especially of the portable variety) have become inextricably intertwined in the two decades, but that wasn't always the case. At the time of the release of Link's Awakening there had been a total of three Zelda titles - the original and establishing title, the uneven and divisive sequel and the instant-classic Link to the Past. A quality gaming experience was not the guarantee at this point. But with it's pedigree and reputation, it was already known at the time to be a solid, reliable series in the Nintendo canon. When Link's Awakening was announced people were excited but wary - some titles had shown a drop in quality in the journey to the smaller screen. When it finally was released we got something that was a little unlike any Zelda game we'd seen before, and nothing since then has been quite like it. In fact Link's Awakening remains an anomaly in both structure and plot, setting it apart from the rest of the games in the series.

Whereas every single other game bearing the Zelda title has included some form of Hyrule, Ganon, the Triforce and the titular princess herself, Link's Awakening set itself apart by eschewing all of these standard ingredients for a unique and whimsical tale of cast-away adventuring. The core of the game's plot (which was surprisingly rich for its day) is as follows: Link, in the wake of his adventures in A Link to the Past, sets off for sail on the high seas. When a storm wrecks his boat he awakes to find himself on the shore of Koholint Island, a strange place that bears more than a passing similarity to Hyrule. At the center of the island is a mountain with a gigantic egg resting in the crater on top. In order to leave the island and go home, Link must defeat eight creatures in their respective dungeon lairs in order to retrieve instruments to play a song that will awaken the Wind Fish that rests within the egg. See? Told you it wasn't the same old song and dance. What unfolds is a sad tale of both determinism and resignation in the face of destiny. I will be extremely conservative and not spoil a 20 year old game, but my 10 year old self was genuinely sad to see what unfolded in the final moments of the game, and even now I remember it fondly for the adventure. However I still don't want to re-experience the loss that stems from the plot. I think that shows either an extreme emotional attachment or signs of strong game design.

 While I certainly don't want to dump all over the tried-and-true template for a Zelda game (Ganon, Triforce, Hyrule and one requisite tweak of the conventions) I really loved this game for what set it apart, even if at the time I thought it was a bit odd. In fact, my pre-teen brain interpreted the non-canonical setting as a result of the portable nature of the game, i.e. smaller, non-console iteration equated a non-standard game. In a way that subconscious interpretation was right, as I've found that te game's development was almost an after-hours, off-project construction. The designers were afforded more freedom to play around with conventions because of the side-story nature of the game. This sense of freewheeling, 'let's throw this in' attitude made for a unique little adventure, one that felt both large in scope and unlike anything I'd played before. There were cameos from Mario games, the occasional side-scrolling section and even, for the first time in a Zelda game, the ability to (gasp!) jump. These quirks helped break ground for the series, if only in adding a touch of whimsy where convention might otherwise induce stagnation.

 There have been re-releases and enhanced versions in the intervening years since I've played Link's Awakening, but my heart will always remain with the simple little black and white, bare-bones version for the Gameboy. There are...ways...to track it down if you can't find the GBC version. If you've never played it, I would highly recommend it, just to see what a Zelda game can be when the plot and structure are unrestrained by the demands of convention. Even if it involves a poignant moment at the end.