Final Fantasy 7- The Beginning

Even if you are unfamiliar with video games, you will probably have heard of the Final Fantasy series. Perhaps you wonder where is the finality in a series with multiple (13?) sequels and spin-offs but its impact on the gaming industry cannot be overstated.

Of this gaming behemoth, Final Fantasy VII (FF7) was the installment most commonly credited with elevating Role-Playing-Games (RPG) into the western mainstream. It altered the gaming landscape and ushered in a hoard of Japanese style RPGs into the mass market, not just geeks who play with a Kanji dictionary in their hands.

It stole a great chunk of my life as well, on its own and subsequent sequels and similar games that made its way into my life as a result of it.

It started innocuously enough. It was 1998, I was in Uni and a senior who was graduating gave me his PlayStation. Then I was more of an arcade gamer than a console one, the last games console I owned was a Sega Genesis almost a decade ago when cartridges were the media of the day.

I recalled going wild on Ridge Racer but then another friend told me I owed it to myself to try FF7. Then, I was not unfamiliar with RPGs, having dabbled with D&D and M&M before. That would be Dungeons and Dragons and Might and Magic but if you needed a translation, it probably means nothing to you. ;)

So I did.

From the moment Cloud came down the stairs, I was hooked. Captivated. Addicted. Inseparable from my console. It helped that it was a term break after all. I ate in front of the console, switched it on when I woke up.

It was more than a game, the characters became part of my life, not surprisingly when you consider I spent more time with them than I did with any of my buddies.

In one of the most shocking moments in video games history, Aeris was killed. Not metaphorically but literally murdered in the story line. It was more than surprise, it was devastating. Like a man possessed I fought lethargy and the limitations of the human body to labor on to see if I could revive her.

Grief soon gave way to vengeance and I wanted to rip Sephiroth apart. His personality and arrogance did nothing to dissuade me.

Within 5 days, it was over. I blazed through the game and suddenly I felt a void. What was I to do with the remnants of my so-called life?

'Did you raise you chocobo? What about the Knights of The Round Table? Where's your pride?' My friend asked me?

Then I realized there were so many sub-plots and mini-games I missed out and it gave me renewed vigor. It took me a couple of months to explore FF7 again, this time savoring the moment slowly.

Today, if you look at the graphics you might cringe. Ooh, polygons in your hair? But back then it was groundbreaking. You can talk about the battle system, the audio but it was the characters and the story line that set it apart.

There have been many imitators that came along but there will only be one Cloud Strife.

Never Let Me Go- I Never Did

One of the most common element in a story is the turning point. The watershed moment that divides the whole account into two. It can be the moment where the cliched expression 'the tides were turned' would come in handy, such as the battle of Normandy for example.

It can also be the moment where the entire perspective, how the story is being viewed suddenly takes a radical, dramatic turn. Done effectively, it is haunting, moving and affecting. If you are looking at how to weave this into your story telling, you could do worse than Kazuo Ishiguro's Never Let Me Go. Far, far worse.
The story had an innocuous start, a growing pains, coming-of-age type of tale. Yet at every turn, you know there's a secret lurking behind.
Then there is the moment- 'You mean they are bleeping clones?' And everything changes. You can't read it the same any more.
Having spent some time with Kathy and the children of Hailsham, a sense of pathos is wrought eventually and their possession of souls and personalities were never called into question.
Then you realize they are clones.
Can you look at them the same way again? Can you look at cloning in the same manner.
Ishiguro does not outright engage in activism but leaves the reader to his or her own conclusion. Like many of his writings, the ending is inconclusive, leaving a sense of emptiness in the reader but like the title of the book suggest, you can't quite let this book go.
Must have been 5 years or more since I read it and whenever I read about science ethics, this book emerges in my mind. One of the most evocative books I had read and for this I think Ishiguro can be forgiven for a multitude of literary sins (*cough* Nocturnes*).