The lights are on
Veteran Member - Level 11
I don't think many realize how
personal this topic can be. By asking a person why they feel for
someone or something, you're surfacing dormant emotions and old
memories. A purely analytical mind would deny the idea of the
fictional. How can one who exists feel real emotion or connection for
the non-existant? The human mind has proven, time and again, that
it's not so simple. These “fictional” characters would not exist
without a human behind behind them. They are conceived in a thought,
given form on paper, and receive breath in visual art. What they need
then is a means to travel, and that is through the imagination in all
of us where they truly reside. For them to accomplish this last task
is to be recognized by these certain aspects, for they then become
more “real” to us.
For me to connect with a character,
and not just empathize with them, they need to speak to my trials, my
situation, and my desires. For me to connect, they must share the
same passions or conflicts. A personal connection cannot be achieved
by simply empathizing with the problems and emotions of another. We
can feel sorry for them, be can feel sad for them ( John Marston) but
can you say that you love them as a brother? As one of your own
creation? That is rarely possible.
As great as many works of art are in
the world, how many can you say truly captures the human soul? How
many are independent in thought and action without us needing to
project our own emotions to give it life? It's hard to judge in games
because character dynamics will always be lost to actual gameplay,
even if it's part of the whole experience (Heavy Rain). In life,
killing is hard. It damages the soul and can make a person un-caring
and lead to some deep psychological problems, yet John Marston kills
them by the thousands and Drake by the hundreds without much
character draw from the fact.
Looking back, this could add to the
credit the Final fantasy series has achieved with it's own storyline,
taking the time to draw out emotions and sculpt a character, yet they
never seem to get it perfectly right. Closest I have personally seen
is many of the characters from the MGS series. I have aging
relatives, and seeing the last two scenes of the game seemed to prey
on a few of my closer emotions and weaknesses, But there it is again!
An illusion of a true connection! The scenes take advantage of my
weaknesses and vulnerabilities to create an emotional link, but not a
personal one. Yes I cried, yes I was saddened by what was occurring
at the time, but how well does the character stand by himself?
Itself? Themselves? It is no true connection!
There is one that seems to be a
haunting companion that has been looking over my shoulder for quite
some time. This apparition has a connection that's conceived into my
primordial consciousness that is begging for release, deserving to be
formed, and demands the breath of creation.
Adrian, raised an experiment, betrayed
by emotion. Runs from a life not wanted and is disgusted by the
life-sucking power that has been bestowed to his blood. Terrified as
the lack of control over this power. Every use, every try is
hammering mortality ever harder into his mind.
Adrian, Raised as a part of a great
military might. An individual with talent. Disturbed by training in
the field, the mission being mass genocide. Is shot in the chest by
the commanding officer for his lack of resolve and is left to die.
Waking up in sweat, and blindly running into the darkness...
There is so much still unknown of this
man, but I must pen the answers before my own existence comes to a
close, for that will also mean the death of this creation. The want
for form and breath, hammering in my head like Poe's phantasmal
heart, giving more viability to the realization that occurred to me
months ago, that took place in the form of a question:
artists haunted by their creations?
No, I don't connect with any character, only a handful
of ones in life I do. Yes, I project my emotions, my weaknesses onto
a fiction in the thralls of my own personal pathos, but who really
Only one being, for He transcends reality
For the greatest mystery to me, is myself.