Majora's Mask: Moon Children in Question

"Heh, heh... Thanks. You're nice. Umm... Can I ask... a question?"

…What are you doing here?

I don’t mean that to be offensive, in the “Hey, what are you doing here?! Get off of my property before I shoot you!” kind of way. I don’t mean that in the, “I can’t believe that they would let someone like you in here,” kind of way. (And trust me, the only times that I’ve ever encountered that in my life, I am always on the receiving end.) I mean as an honest question, a question that is considered rhetorical because I want you to consider it to yourself as much as I want to know that answer: what are you doing here?

What force inspired you to open this post and be here? Just think about that for a while; there are a lot of things at play that we never acknowledge, forces that act on our emotions and thoughts, subtly influencing us to think and behave the way that we do.

I really wish I knew what kinds of things “normal” people think about during their quiet moments – apparently I’m supposed to believe that people think of nothing more significant or more profound than what they’re going to eat later, how to make money, wondering what’s on TV, worrying about paying bills, or how to get their crush to fall in love with them. But I know people a little better than that. I don’t know if my familiarity with human nature is the cause or the effect of being a writer (maybe it’s a bit of both), but I do know that there are more profound things that get into the minds and hearts of people. If left alone to their own thoughts, I know that some people think about anger for past wrongs experienced, feel pity for a world that they just don’t know how to help, suffer secret pains and sorrows, or wonder how to get rid of that persistent gnawing feeling that not all is well in life.

But you may have noticed that children have some special way of living their lives. They are not yet experienced, nor are they jaded and hardened against the world. They are curious about the environment in which they live – curious and hopeful. Rather than world-weary adults who have learned too often that adventure leads to pain, that discovery leads to disillusionment, that misplaced faith leads to disappointment, and that all things entail opposition, children have that quality that leaves them unafraid to ask questions and learn more about everything. To children, there is still the prospect of easy joy around every corner.

That’s why I have been thinking about four particular children I have encountered… all of whom spoke the words that I quoted at the start of this post. With no variation in their words, all of them would speak in their stilted, unnatural way and ask me questions. They seemed to be struggling to form their words, and struggling to form their thoughts. And something about their characters has always been unnerving.

Maybe the reason that this is creepy is because of the masks that they are wearing while they talk to you.

Picture by DarkCatXX @deviantart.com

I am referring to the four children that you meet in The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask. At a certain point in the game you cause Link to enter the Moon (yes, the Moon – that big chunk of rock that we see floating in the sky all the time, reflecting sunlight towards the Earth). When you get inside (by way of magic) you will find yourself in a serene field of grass, beneath a soft, blue sky and an atmosphere of wonderful tranquility. In the centre of the landscape there is a single tree, which is the only distinction in all the landscape around you. In walking towards that tree, you will notice that there are small children running around it in the halting, random way that children sometimes do when they play. This might seem normal at first, but when first you look at one of their faces you will see that there is something indeed peculiar about them. That would be the aforementioned masks.

Throughout the game Majora’s Mask you face four main bosses: Odolwa, the Masked Jungle Warrior; Goht, the Masked Mechanical Monster; Gyorg, the Gargantuan Masked Fish; and Twinmold, the Giant Masked Insect. Once you defeat the evil creatures their bodies magically disintegrate, their magic masks fall to the ground, and you take these remains with you as tokens of your battles. So it would probably come as a surprise if you were to enter the Moon and find that these four playing children…

Picture by brokensoul1987 @deviantart.com

…are wearing those masks.

Throughout the rest of the game, these children are never seen elsewhere – at least not in this form. Their existence is never explained – which is also the case of many other aspects of the game’s characters, storylines, and even settings. As such, there are theories among fans about who these mysterious children are. While I won’t describe all of those theories in full, some of them include the theory that these children are constructs from Majora’s memories, that they are the spirits (or representatives of spirits) of a tribe of people who used magical masks, or even a theory that they are a representation of Skull Kid’s personality – which was the consciousness that Majora had most recently touched while he (or is Majora a “she?”) used Skull Kid as a puppet.

My personal theory is different from all of these. Remember, these are only theories, possibilities of what might be the case – and as it turns out, not all theories are mutually exclusive; some believe that the children are members of the same tribe as the Happy Mask Salesman, which is a theory that can also be believed at the same time as believing that the children belong to the ancient tribe who used Majora’s Mask for hexing rituals. Both of these theories can be believed at the same time as thinking that these children were war victims who died because of Majora. And… as it happens, those theories can also line up with what I’m about to suggest.

Although these previous theories offered some potential answers, they left with me a question: why those specific masks? According to the theories, why would these children wear those four specific masks? The only reason I can think of that makes sense for why these children would be wearing the masks of the monsters that you have slain is because those children were the monsters that you killed. Allow me to explain. Suppose we believe that these children and the Happy Mask Salesman are all descendants of the race of people who used and possibly even created Majora’s Mask. In the Happy Mask Salesman’s own words, “The mask that was stolen from me... It is called Majora's Mask. It is an accursed item from legend that is said to have been used by an ancient tribe in its hexing rituals. It is said that an evil and wicked power is bestowed upon the one who wears that mask. According to legend... the troubles caused by Majora's Mask were so great... the ancient ones, fearing such catastrophe, sealed the mask in shadow forever, preventing its misuse…”

This story is not elaborated upon, but this has been interpreted by some to mean that Majora’s Mask brought war with it – either fighting within the tribe because Majora’s Mask caused contention, fighting with outsiders because they wanted Majora’s power, or Majora alone fought against the people. Maybe focus on that last possibility: that Majora itself fought against the people who used its dark power in their hexing rituals. After all, Majora did stand alone to fight Link at the end of his journey, and we have seen that Majora is a powerful, if somewhat insane warrior.

Now, the events of the game prove that there are certain powers at which Majora is adept. One of these is the ability to physically transform living beings; he turns Kafei into a child and Link into a Deku Scrub, and there is strong implication that he killed the Deku Butler’s son, turning the Deku Scrub into a tree and implanting part of the Scrub’s essence into Link. If Majora is able to do that, then it is possible that one of the ways in which he fought the ancient people was by transforming them – possibly even into monsters. It’s possible, then, that within the four main bosses that you fight in Majora’s Mask reside the spirits of four children…

Regardless of your belief on life after death (and regardless of mine – though I’ve said before that I am a firm believer in the continuation of life after mortality), the universe of the Legend of Zelda is one in which the dead continue to live on in some form or another; you meet many ghosts in nearly every single Legend of Zelda game; fairy spirits can restore life to the recently deceased; Rauru the Sage in Ocarina of Time is most likely a deceased Sage from a previous age; and somehow Ganondorf/Ganon manages to keep coming back to wreak havoc, no matter how many times you kill him. So, even though you have supposedly killed the beasts (and the machine) that lorded over each dungeon in Majora’s Mask, when you arrive inside of the Moon you may in fact be looking at the children whose spirits gave life to the monsters that you fought. That would make them four children that you unknowingly killed, yourself.

The four children seem to be avoiding a fifth child who is sitting at the base of the tree and wearing Majora’s Mask. If Majora was indeed the one responsible for transforming the children into monsters and enslaving them to his bidding – just as he did the same thing when he took control of the Moon – then it would make sense that the Moon children would bear some resentment to the child who represents Majora.

You might not think that these four children would be so happy to see Link either, after he was the one to destroy each one of them. From the look of it, though, they don’t seem to mind. At least, they make no mention of fighting with you. Strangely, though, when you talk to the children they all begin with a pause, as illustrated by “…” If you apply the theory in question here – that these spirits gave life to the dungeon bosses – it’s possible that they think you look familiar and are trying to remember why. You will have never met these children before, so if they feel like they recognize you, it could be possible that they have vague memories of you from your battles. At any rate, they don’t mention your fight and seem to bear no ire against you. In fact, they seem rather happy and carefree.

I’m sure that much of that carefree nature comes from the fact that they are children; as I said before, children are not like adults, and being carefree comes to them more easily than it does for many of us who are disenchanted with the joy that the world can or does offer. There is another thing worth mentioning, however…

First, let me admit that I don’t know who the original source of this idea is, but here is the source that I read it from: http://www.zeldainformer.com/news/themes_in_motion_majoras_mask_and_the_five_stages_of_grief

The idea presented here is basically that the five main areas of Termina signify the five stages of grief, and the order in which you progress through them follows the same order as someone would by living through the full grieving process: first comes denial (Clock Town); second is anger (Woodfall); third comes bargaining or pleading (Snowhead); fourth is depression, a lack of desire or a retreat into oneself (Great Bay); and fifth is acceptance (Ikana). The author of the post that I mentioned made interesting points about how the people, the bosses, and even the landforms themselves in each location demonstrate each of these stages of grief. (See that post for more details.) However, while the author gives a very good explanation of the significance of Link fighting Majora in the Moon, there is one part that he didn’t mention which I would like to expand on.

[A picture used to go here. Maybe I'll put a new one here later.]

As I have explained, I think of the four Moon Children (as they’re sometimes called) as if they are the spirits of children who were transformed into monsters. You, playing as Link, have helped them to overcome their various symptoms of grief; Odolwa’s rage (anger) has been subdued because you acted in a patient, calm, and calculated manner to defeat him; Goht has stopped running in circles in a fruitless effort for escape(bargaining/pleading) because you forced him to stand still – symbolically causing him to accept what was there in front of him; Gyorg has been caught like any fish, forced onto dry land out of the water (depression) that is said to symbolize a sea of tears; and Twinmold has been aided in the process of passing (acceptance), something that you accomplish by causing Link to magically grow so that his trials are no longer so huge and terrifying.

The idea behind these five stages of grief is that once the stages that a sufferer experiences have been overcome, healing and then happiness can take place again. If you consider the Moon to be the sixth major area of the game, the one that is accessible after grief has been overcome, then it can be considered a representation of happiness, or at least the start of happiness, which is healing. The landscape is peaceful and alive, and a tree is growing in the midst of it – a tree is a strong symbol for hope, as well as life, growth, and a good many other positive virtues. Compared to the sickening venom water of Woodfall’s anger, the metaphorically and literally freezing ice and snow of Snowhead’s bargaining, the smothering and murky sea of Great Bay’s tears, and the barren emptiness of Ikana’s gradual acceptance, the Moon’s tree is a symbol of the healing that survives and repairs all of these; it draws elements together, just as much as anger divides; it grows and progresses, just as much as bargaining and pleading attempt to stop miserable things from happening; it absorbs from its surroundings and builds with them, just as much as depression smothers and chokes in its surroundings; and it fills new space and invites new life, just as much as the difficult and sometimes painful process of acceptance requires a time of being emptied. In the Moon, healing has taken place here and happiness is forthcoming.

However, there are still these four children…

Though you see them frolicking around with more freedom than you have seen them do previously, there is still something unsettling about them…

Some have said that the children look and sound really creepy, the way that you might expect a psychopath to behave, or some feel that the children seem rather lost and confused – not only in the way that an inexperienced child might be, but in the way that a person with a mental disorder might interact with the world. Well, to some extent, I believe those opinions might have truth in them; these children have just undergone the process of dealing with their own grief, not to mention that they may have just endured slavery – having their wills subjugated (for who knows how long) while being trapped in the essence of the monsters. With that in mind, I might actually expect these children to be somewhat stiff, unfeeling, distant, clinical, confused, and unfamiliar with things. Wouldn't you be, too?

Nevertheless, the way that these children have difficulty acting like the children that they are seems to denote that they have something “adult” in them. It would be a fitting symbolism if you consider that these may be the spirits of monsters that you have killed; the inner child, the innocent state of mind has been killed, leaving a hard cynicism behind, one of the marks that some people suppose signifies adulthood.

But cynicism is not the same as adulthood; a lack of wonder is not the same as maturity; a loss of hope or faith is not the same as wisdom. So it is that someone who has experienced deep trials, as have these children, does not seem to congruently fit in either one of their worlds. In a way they become “old before their time,” gaining experience that is disproportionate to their maturity. These formerly terrifying monsters have never really grown up, for all of the power that they wielded. They never overcame their personal trials or personal weaknesses, and so they are still children at heart. They are not mature enough to be adults, and yet they are not innocent enough to be fully children. Perhaps that is what’s so unnerving about the questions that they ask you and the way they communicate with you.

The questions that they ask have intrigued me ever since the first time encountered the children; ever since the first time that I played the game. I will be writing a series of posts about the questions that the four children ask you – and maybe I’ll write a fifth one relating to what Majora has to say to you, if I feel like it.

In this post, though, I just want you to understand why I think that the questions are presented in the way that they are. What intrigued me so much about these questions from the first time they were asked of me was that these were children’s questions. These were not complex or eloquently worded questions that adults might use to present their questions in a more developed, sophisticated way; these questions were asked in the halting diction of young, not yet mature minds. In the way that children ask with such innocence and faith that the answer exists to be had, they asked profound questions about happiness, love, morality, and truth – questions which have overtaken the minds and hearts of philosophers and authors and scientists of all disciplines and world leaders and all common people for millennia.

Why does any of this matter to you? To reiterate the question that I asked you at the beginning of this post, why are you here?

Well, in an experienced and yet childish way, these four Moon children ask you to help them understand those things which are most dear to all of us. Love, happiness, morality, and truth are among the most basic and most important principles we use to conduct ourselves. In ways that we do not consider, these forces subtly influence us in emotion and thought, altering our perceptions, beliefs, and ultimately our actions, behaviours, and our natures.

This matters to you. And so this matters to me. I have yet to say that I have lived a quarter of a century, but even so I have learned somewhat about these four principles. You could say that I have seen some visions, revelations, and even miracles along the way. You could also say that the truth I have learned has led me to a sense of morality, and this morality dictates that I love others, which love leads to happiness.

“Then I'll play with you. So...

...Let's play. All right...I'll...hide…”

And see you on the other side.

-          TAB III