In spite of having blabbed for two lengthy posts about Final Fantasy IX, I still can’t get it out of my head. It definitely deserves to knock Mega Man 2 off of its pedestal on my personal top five list.
Even though the story is, at heart, pretty silly, I kinda find myself touched by it.
I think part of it is how excellent it is, by video game standards, in depicting the persistence of hope in the face of suffering and loss, and the reality of forgiveness. And I know something more about these things than I did fifteen years ago. So replaying IX wasn’t a nostalgic experience so much as it seemed to capture some thoughts, feelings and experiences that have crystallized over the years. Kind of like how Peter S. Beagle’s novel, The Last Unicorn, emotionally rang true for me when I read it shortly after being received into the Church, even though I can’t easily explain why.
I wouldn’t necessarily trot it out as an example of, “Games Can Be Art.” It’s more an example of how you can find a weird connection with some things that can seem otherwise frivolous.
Maybe I’m just too sentimental.