Expanding Hyrule: Player Representation and the Promise of Inclusion

In 2007, Eiji Aonuma famously said, “When a player is playing a Zelda game, my desire is for the player to truly become Link — that’s why we named him Link, so the player is linked to the game and to the experience. Of course, the player can always change Link’s name to their own name to further that notion should they want.” This of course comes as no surprise to anyone familiar with the history of the franchise; in the early years, Nintendo made clear its intention that Link functioned as an avatar for the player, not a distinct character. In fact, this notion is one of many key reasons that generations of gamers have come to love The Legend of Zelda franchise–we see ourselves in the Hero, experience the adventure as our own. This notion is incredibly personal for me, something I wrote extensively about here.

This concept of representation in art is so central to the life-changing power it holds. As we identify with the characters on screen, we project ourselves onto them and in turn they imbue us with their heroism, courage, and humanity. It is a dynamic that flows to and from these immersive worlds. The video game and culture website, Countr Cultur, recently published a piece that articulates the importance of this connection so well:

“Representation is key for us to be able to lose ourselves in a story. Particularly in video games, the deepest level of immersion occurs when we identify with the character that we’re playing as. This means that for the duration of the game, we effectively become that character. The more traits we have in common with this character, the more seamlessly we project ourselves into their shoes.”

The modern gaming industry has capitalized off this very psychological principle, with many games allowing unparalleled customization of the story’s protagonists, even down to a somewhat comical specificity. While this abundance of control over players’ avatars has been profitable for the industry (and the subject of endless internet jokes), not all games have followed suit. The benefits of customization, inclusion, and ultimately immersion are sometimes offset by a loss of character-specific depth and storytelling.

As we celebrate Pride Month, I can’t help but contemplate this notion of representation in video games, particularly with the franchise I treasure above all others: The Legend of Zelda. The era of customization and player control has helped folks from all walks of life gain representation on screen, resulting in a deeper immersion for more people in an art form we all love. While the Zelda franchise has steered clear of such customization options, it is ironic that the series was founded on such a similar notion–players becoming “linked” to the screen.

Authenticity Matters

During the production of Breath of the Wild, rumors swirled that players would be able to chose the gender of Link, something Aonuma addressed directly. Of course, this rumor proved false, leaving those hoping for increased inclusion in the Zelda franchise disappointed when the game finally released.

Here’s the thing about inclusion, though: when forced, it does a disservice to those it purports to include. Tokenism or artificial inclusivity feels cheap, communicating on a subconscious level that members of particular communities still don’t truly belong. Diversity must come authentically, must manifest through characters who belong in the worlds they inhabit, for whom their markers of identity are a human complexity rather than the point of their existence in the narrative.

While I love the idea of further inclusion in the franchise I adore, we must acknowledge that it can’t and shouldn’t come through Link. Whatever intention Nintendo held at the creation of the franchise, the Hero has in fact become his own character, one with traits that transcend his many manifestations. The Hero of Hyrule is no longer a “link” to the game, but a fully fleshed protagonist; altering this in the name of inclusion would only incite backlash at those already marginalized in the gaming world.

But the conversation shouldn’t stop there.

No, Nintendo doesn’t owe anyone anything. No, Nintendo doesn’t have to adopt American cultural norms or ideas in its storytelling (I hear this a lot and would just point out that the values of inclusion are not “American” alone). But as anyone connected to the creation and enjoyment of art will likely tell you, once art is released into the world, a kind of ownership belongs to all whom it encounters. To a degree, however small, we all shape the community and experience that is Zelda. And if nothing else, it is good and appropriate to discuss, dream, or even demand more. Fans do this all the time when discussing style of controls, production of accessories like amiibo, and even art style. That comes with the territory, and I would argue exploring inclusion in our favorite franchise falls within those bounds. And sometimes, when fans demand–Nintendo listens.

Other Voices Needed

I wanted to better understand how others thought of this issue, so I asked a few of my non-binary and trans friends for their perspective on the world of gaming and particularly The Legend of Zelda franchise, a common love among all of us. In particular, I was curious about some of the ways Breath of the Wild seemed more friendly to those within the LGBTQIA+ community: Link appears physically more androgynous, some of the armor sets like the Sheikah Stealth set certainly present as non-binary, and there’s inclusion of characters for whom the dialogue and appearance suggest they may be gay or trans. I wondered if my friends felt like these inclusions were progress or more like tokenism. In the case of the character at the Southern Oasis in the Gerudo Desert region, perhaps the inclusion could be seen as having a negative impact.

I spoke with Isaac, a 20 year old who describes himself as “a transmasc college student and fan of Zelda since his first introduction to the series in 2012.” When I shared my questions about inclusion in Zelda and the representation in Breath of the Wild, Isaac had this to say:

“Personally, there’s so little gender-queer representation in video games as a whole that it was an incredible breath of fresh air to see a character relevant to the plot (even if they are only an NPC) that expressed gender differently than the gender it’s assumed they are assigned (male). If I really wanted to, I could find reasons why the way the character and the scene as a whole could have been offensive, like the fashion in which Link was presented when he put on the Desert Vai clothes, or the way Link rolls his eyes in a sort of annoyed or bothered way when the NPC’s mask blows away for a moment, or how basically the entire interaction with that character revolves around their gender and gender expression. But with so little representation available, I much prefer a game dipping its toes into presenting gender-queer characters of any kind, rather than having them not have any at all because they fear offending the community.

I guess all in all, there’s definitely a long road ahead of us to get the kind of impactful gender-queer representation that’s been missing in this industry for so long, but this game definitely takes a step in the right direction, even if it is a relatively small step.”

Isaac’s words were a good reminder of how complex the issue of representation really is; I was also reminded how infrequently I have to deal with these kinds of issues given how frequently my own identity is reflected back at me in the games I’ve loved since childhood. Clearly video game companies have so many factors to weigh when creating a game, and artful rendering of human culture is well behind the profit motive–which is every company’s right. But as a life long fan of video games and someone deeply passionate about the notion of video games as highly significant cultural art, I want my favorite franchise to grow into something more. I decided to ask another friend I know who works within the video game industry at a company of significance (for anonymity sake–they asked to keep the company name private).

Ness (they / them) has worked within the game development industry for years and has been with several major studios. Here’s what they had to say with regard to the character at the Southern Oasis:

“I personally didn’t read this NPC as gender queer / trans, nor feel that this was the story Nintendo was trying to tell. The 3D games, like Ocarina of Time and Majora’s Mask, have had non-Gerudo characters, usually men, who cross-dress in order to infiltrate the Gerudo’s base for nefarious purposes like peeking on ‘pretty ladies’ or stealing treasure. I assumed it was the same case here and didn’t particularly care for this quest because of that assumption.

If viewing this through the lens of the character being trans or non-binary, I’m still not particularly thrilled. The entire encounter is based on the tropes that video games and entertainment in general would be better off leaving in the past: including the trans character occupying a ‘Deceiver’ role within the quest’s narrative, the character’s trans identity being revealed through non-consensual means (e.g. wind blowing away a face cover to reveal a 5 o’clock shadow), and the trans character’s overt sexualization (conflating sexuality and gender identity for comedic purposes).

Nintendo has a lot of growth to do when it comes to depicting trans and non-binary individuals, although they’ve begun introducing believable characters and stories in other recent titles, such as Pokemon X/Y. Hopefully that will continue.”

Ness’ answer surprised me a bit; I realized that what I’d thought was progress may not have been so clear cut. I confess I have some room to grow in my thinking and understanding of inclusion in games. The contrast in perspectives from Isaac and Ness also reminded me that these issues are enormously complicated, and that there are no simple fixes or easy answers for making games more representative for all.

Hyrule is Big Enough for Everyone

I have no idea what Nintendo will do in future games or how The Legend of Zelda will continue to evolve as a series. I hope that developers will find ways to involve new characters that will allow my fellow gamers to see themselves on screen and to more easily immerse themselves in the kingdom of Hyrule. We don’t need to replace Link with a gendered caricature (looking at you Linkle); rather we need to expand the ways  in which players can connect to the incredible Hero we already have and to find themselves among his many companions in the fight against evil.

Each time I play Breath of the Wild, I’m reminded of what is beautiful about The Legend of Zelda: the ability to do anything, go anywhere, experiment, and that these qualities bring people together from all over the world. A more inclusive cast of original characters, ones that respectfully and authentically represent the incredible diversity of Zelda fandom wouldn’t diminish the series; rather it would be an embodiment of everything we already love about the franchise.

“Diversity in Zelda” is an ongoing series in which we highlight The Legend of Zelda’s approaches to inclusivity, spotlight relevant characters, and speak with fans from marginalized communities. It is our desire that the series’ installments be received with open minds and expose readers to new perspectives.

David Lasby is a Copy Editor at Zelda Dungeon. His favorite Zelda games are Breath of the Wild and A Link to the Past. You can find him on Twitter to talk all things Zelda, Nintendo, and sci-fi / fantasy.

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