In the game entitled "Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask," Zelda does not exist. It is this anomaly and its effects that I chart in this post.
In this post, I argue that music is a prime example of how "Majora" is simultaneously familiar and terrifyingly different from the rest of the "Zelda" canon: it takes the significance of sound to a whole new level in game design.
"Majora's Mask" is exceptional because it offers the most meaningful and ontologically logical sidequests possible of a game.
We can easily write off the disturbing undercurrent of "Majora" as a result of aesthetics, but in this post, I want to offer an argument that the horror which pervades the game is much more subtle and existential than that interpretation. I submit that the ultimate reason "Majora's Mask" continues to terrify us is that, as much as we want there to exist an evil for us to conquer, there ultimately exists no evil in the game.
The aim of my project here is to reflect on a game which, far beyond being merely the sequel to "Ocarina of Time," is, in my view, one of the most significant pieces of art in modern times. While the release date for "Majora's Mask 3D" has not been publicized at this point, my goal is to write weekly reflections on different facets of the game, in the hopes that, by the time it is released, I will have articulated just what about this game strikes me at irrevocably moving.