The game I explored this week was The Legend of Zelda, developed and published by Nintendo. It’s a sprawling open-world action-adventure game available on the Nintendo Switch and Wii U. Personally, I played on the Switch.
Layer 1 & Layer 2: The main character and supporting cast
I would like to discuss Layer 1 and Layer 2 together, as The Legend of Zelda presents an interesting case where both Link and Zelda could be seen as central protagonists.
Link serves as the player’s emotional filter, as players experience the world almost entirely through his perspective. At the beginning of the game, both Link and the player are equally unaware of the world’s history, current stakes, and their role in it. This alignment allows Link’s journey of discovery to mirror our own. His silence further enhances this effect, creating an emotional blank slate that invites players to project their own feelings and interpretations onto the unfolding events. Each dungeon completed and piece of lore uncovered reflects not only Link’s physical growth as a hero but also his emotional and cognitive development as he slowly pieces together the story and moves closer to understanding Zelda and the broader conflict.
Zelda, however, is not simply the goal or endpoint of this journey. She functions as a core narrative force, an anchor of lore, conflict, and transformation. Unlike the passive “princess in another castle” trope exemplified in games like Super Mario Bros., Zelda often initiates or validates Link’s quest. In many games, she guides, disguises herself, or intervenes directly in the plot, subtly shaping Link’s journey and the fate of Hyrule. In this sense, Zelda can be seen as the narrative protagonist—the one whose decisions drive the larger mythos.
These characters expand Zelda beyond the standard rescue-quest formula. Instead, the game explores themes of duty, destiny, sacrifice, and interdependence, offering a much broader and more nuanced story than many traditional adventure games I have played.
Layer 3: The surroundings
The game takes place in the expansive world of Hyrule, and it is the most immersive open-world experience I’ve ever played. From Link’s perspective, there is a central storyline, but the game also offers immense freedom and flexibility—players are encouraged to explore at their own pace. The spatial structure, physically represented by the map, creates the psychological and emotional setting of the game. While players can follow the main quest to progress the story, doing so also naturally leads them to different parts of the world, where they encounter various races, cultures, and environmental challenges.
What makes the surroundings so powerful is that they are not just visually impressive—they are designed for interaction. You can stop to watch a sunrise, wander into a quiet forest, or stumble upon a hidden shrine. The world is not static; it feels alive and responsive, filtered through Link’s movement, emotions, and memories.
One of the most impressive details is the treatment of rain. In Breath of the Wild, rain isn’t just a visual or atmospheric effect—it fundamentally alters how players interact with the environment. On a rainy day, Link cannot reliably climb mountains or cliffs because the surfaces become slippery, causing him to slip and fall. This turns rain into more than just background—it becomes a narrative and emotional tool, transforming mountains into temporary obstacles and adding urgency, frustration, or tension to a journey. It’s a brilliant example of how Zelda turns environmental design into meaningful, lived experience.
Layer 4: The Society and Culture
The game excels at constructing a richly imagined society with its own rules, belief systems, and cultural norms. Hyrule is home to several distinct races and communities, each with unique social traits, values, and environmental settings. These cultural groups differ not only in appearance but also in customs, rituals, and worldviews. Crucially, these distinctions are not arbitrary or decorative; they are deeply woven into the game’s geography, quests, and emotional stakes.
What stands out is the designers’ meticulous attention to detail, particularly in how culture is expressed through language, behavior, and daily life. While the game doesn’t invent new alphabets in the style of Tolkien, it subtly reflects social hierarchies and group identity through dialogue and tone. Characters in royal or religious positions speak with formality and reverence, while merchants, villagers, and side characters tend to use more casual, humorous, or anxious language. This modulation in speech style reinforces the social systems and norms embedded in each region.
Cultural differences are also reflected in food and ritual practices. The cooking system, for example, ties ingredients to climate and geography, encouraging players to engage with regional identity through survival mechanics. Each group has its own culinary preferences and symbolic practices which not only enhance immersion but also make the world feel lived-in. Regional musical themes and architectural styles further amplify this cultural specificity, turning each area into a distinct cultural microcosm within the broader world of Hyrule.
Layer 5: The Setting or Landscape
The setting of The Legend of Zelda is entirely fictional, yet deeply immersive, shaped by a vast and mythic land called Hyrule. What makes the landscape especially compelling is that it exists across multiple timelines and eras, with each game offering a different version of Hyrule that reflects shifts in history, ruin, and rebirth. The setting isn’t static, as it changes across generations, where this layered landscape gives the world a sense of legacy, where every mountain, ruin, and field holds narrative weight and invites exploration tied to memory and myth.
Besides, I highly recommend this official video from Nintendo, all the screenshots above are from this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uHGShqcAHlQ.
Ethical Reflection:
In The Legend of Zelda, players are locked into the body of Link—a young, able-bodied male—without the option to construct or choose a different identity. While his abilities evolve through equipment, his core body remains fixed. Zelda, despite being central to the narrative, is consistently unplayable and placed in a passive, sacrificial role, reinforcing gendered stereotypes. Different racial groups like the Goron, Zora, and Gerudo have biologically fixed traits that Link can temporarily access through gear. These traits are stripped of cultural context and absorbed into Link’s body, creating a dynamic where one default hero benefits from others’ abilities without sharing their lived experiences. Each group also lacks internal diversity, showing little variation in body type, age, or gender presentation. To challenge this depiction, I would allow players to embody characters from different races and link traits to culture and training rather than biology. I’d also introduce more diversity within each group to move beyond essentialist portrayals of identity.
