I Can't Stop Thinking About Majora's Mask
When I was 7 years old, I rented The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask from our local video rental store in southern Connecticut. Being a stupid kid, I wasn’t able to figure out how to get out of Clock Town on the first cycle, so I wandered aimlessly, speaking with every resident to see if anyone had an idea of how to stop the world’s imminent doom. Seeing the different trauma responses of everyone in Clock Town gave me a gnawing sense that maybe adults don’t have everything as figured out as I once thought. My own response wasn’t much more noble. In the last few minutes before the moon fell, I cowered alone in the South Clock Town water pool, Deku Link’s shield overhead like a child hiding under bed covers. The moon crashed into the land and all life on it was snuffed out. In a sense, I never stopped thinking about that crushingly-powerless moment when I first truly understood what death was.
I’ve never stopped thinking about Majora’s Mask.
———
Everyone in Termina has their own reaction to the specter of armageddon, and each one tells you a lot about their worldview. Some deny it entirely, some acknowledge it but go about their work regardless, some lash out in an attempt to wrest control over a force of nature, some become totally dysfunctional, and some still try to escape in hopes that they may be spared. I can’t blame any of them. I have been all of these people at different points in my life. Hell, even in just the past year. Ever since America plunged headlong into fascism, I’ve spent every day trying to figure out how to keep me and my loved ones safe, and every time the dread dawns upon me that substantial change is out of my individual control. What is the more terrible fate - to be totally powerless but accepting of that fact, or to have enough power to potentially do something to help some people, but not enough to save even close to everyone you love?
In Clock Town, the people deny the moon will fall and mock those who seek to lessen the damage of the impending catastrophe. In the Southern Swamp, a hateful tyrant imprisons and executes minorities to sate the bloodlust of his supporters who demand a scapegoat for problems out of their control. On Mt. Snowhead, people freezing to death refuse to take action to save their village and instead pray to the memory of their dead leaders for aid which they cannot provide. In the Great Bay, a toxic sea makes life uninhabitable and the people simply await death. In Ikana Canyon, the dead wage pointless forever wars to assert the glory of their perceived tribes. It feels like we are trapped in the same painful cycle, trying desperately to find a way out.
When Link resets time at the end of each three-day cycle, he does so of his own accord. He doesn’t have a choice if he wishes to live another day and maybe make things right, but he still plays the Song of Time and watches everything he did in the past 72 hours get undone. Can you imagine the pain and guilt he must feel every time he resets time and sees everyone forget him and suffer yet again? Every land he has healed, demon he has slain, every person whose life he has made a little better, all reset back to zero.
Except the masks. If you help someone in need, if you ease the pain in their weary heart enough for them to keep living just a bit longer, you’ll get their mask. And you’ll keep their mask. When my grandfather entered the twilight of his life, his memory started fading, as it does for many people his age. Seeing someone who has been a pillar of my life start to forget basic things about his family hurt in a way I couldn’t articulate. Did he still remember when I was a kid and I used to help him out in his woodworking workshop? I wish I could have been there for him more, but my family’s response to me coming out as trans made that more difficult. When he finally passed, he left me a box of chisels from his workshop. I still keep them among my other personal tools. I still keep his mask.
———
The sidequest to reunite the lost lovers Anju and Kafei leaves an emotional mark on virtually everyone who seeks it out in Majora’s Mask. It requires by far the most effort, planning, and research of the daily lives and motivations of everyone in Clock Town to see it through to the end. Spending the final minutes of the final night in the Stock Pot Inn with Anju is a nerve-wracking experience. As she wordlessly awaiting the return of her fiancé, you wonder if you missed something, did something wrong, or maybe made a mistake in even trying to bring these two together right before their death. But indeed, Kafei returns mere seconds before to moon falls to exchange marriage masks with his beloved. The two take you as the witness to their eternal bond and give you the Couple’s Mask to symbolize it. With an unshakeable resolve, they vow to face the dawn together. Link undoes all of this by playing the Song of Time and has to shoulder the pain of splitting them apart yet again, but he’ll keep their mask.
Taking the Couple’s Mask to the mayor’s office on the first morning has an interesting effect. Inside, politicians are bickering about how to save face about an environmental catastrophe (Which they in part caused out of cruelty and neglect in generations past) instead of doing anything meaningful to help the townspeople survive. Upon seeing the Couple’s Mask, they all stop what they’re doing and are humbled by the weight of the human lives who depend on them. It may not convince all of them, but their squabble is broken up and their priorities are realigned for the better.
For the past decade I have been trying to convince my mother that the Republican Party she votes for materially causes her own daughter suffering. That they enact wretched cruelty upon their enemies and enrich themselves through corruption on an incomprehensible scale. Part of me wants to believe that any honest person should be able to see that, but every time I am proven wrong by her wall of willful ignorance. I bear my mask to her every time we speak, yet her eyes remain closed. “The moon can’t possibly fall, Victoria, stop worrying about things which won’t happen.”
I want to believe that people can change if one opens their heart to them. On some level, I need to believe it to convince myself this world is not forever doomed to its cycle of pain and violence. Is it foolish to persist in this side quest when there is no end in sight beyond the inevitable final day? Can some simply not be convinced to flee town? Mother, how much have you contorted your soul to rid yourself of a mask to give to others? Can I not keep your mask when you too are gone?
———
Just before the final fight with Majora, if Link gives away every mask he has obtained from helping others in Termina, Majora will say something: “Let’s play good guys against bad guys… Yes. Let’s play that. Are you ready? You’re the bad guy. And when you’re bad, you just run. That’s fine, right?”
I heard someone once hypothesize that this is referring to the fact that the transformation masks all represent dead people important to their communities. But Link wears them anyway, and never tells their loved ones that they died, essentially puppeting their corpses around and not allowing their loved ones to process their deaths. Majora, seeing a world caught in a cycle of suffering and wishing to put everyone out of their misery, may see Link’s attempts to prolong this cycle in an attempt to break it as cowardly and foolish. Even if Link’s intentions are noble, what gives him the right to deny these people closure? Is it right to lie to someone about something so serious to keep their hope alive for just a bit longer? I don't think lying to loved ones is a good idea except in dire situations is a good idea, but if it means saving a life, then perhaps it can be justified? I still don’t have an answer to that question, especially in times like these where hope is scarce and fleeting.
But maybe if hope is a good enough reason for Link, then it’s good enough for me, too. I don’t have all the answers - I’m just one woman trying to make do with a broken world. But if I do nothing, nothing will improve, and the moon will crash. Even if it hurts to get up each day and learn of new horrors that break your heart, holding onto hope at all costs is the best option we have. Majora’s Mask is about changing the world bit by bit, giving hope to others even if they forget about it mere days later. It’s about the hope that life is worth living if we make it worth living. The fight for a better world may feel never-ending, but it is worth it for the dawn of a new day.
Remember those you’ve lost, love those close to you that yet live, and you’ll keep their masks.