This past week I have been moving through Mass Effect 3 a little at a time, cursing my job and adult responsibilities and thinking of nothing else than Shepard and the cast of friends and allies he has amassed since I first met him several years ago. This is a particularly impressive feat considering I am a diehard Kentucky basketball fan, it’s the middle of March Madness and we’re making a title run.
In Mass Effect I was enthralled by the world you’d created. It’s depth, attention to detail and commitment to both that and the people in it were extraordinarily rewarding to someone who had grown up with and revered science fiction. I read it, write it, watch it, and continually search for the next great story, whatever the medium. In Mass Effect, I found it. I played it over and over. Again, an impressive feat considering that while I love gaming and married a gamer, I am not at heart a gamer. I love story. That’s what I look for in anything; if it’s in a book I’ll read it if it’s in a game I’ll play it. So I played, explored, and after a REALLY long time finally figured out how to handle that damned inventory system.
In Mass Effect 2, that world and the beings you had introduced us to became something infinitely more. I was awed by characters that were more carefully and lovingly sculpted than some of the best books I had read. Some were executed better than others, but the core concept behind all of them was so solid that I forgave the ones that were not presented as well as they were imagined and embraced them wholly. Even Jacob, who, forgive me, I thought was duller than dishwater, had a fascinating story waiting for me in his loyalty mission.
But above all those characters was Dr. Mordin Solus. He was the pinnacle of all of it. Your greatest achievement. From his anecdotes to his sonorous singing voice to his compassion and pragmatism, he was the epitome of a complete character, one that I would encourage anyone who wants to tell a story to study. I spoke to him every opportunity I got, could not wait to hear what he had to say, even if I was on my umpteenth playthrough and had heard it all before. I admire his depth, how complicated he was, how willing he was to sacrifice and make hard decisions for the sake of the big picture, but also how deeply he felt and lived with the consequences of those decisions. Mordin made such an impression on me, that when a chatty, frenetic, overly friendly stray cat with a scar on his nose showed up at our door and insisted we adopt him, we named him Mordin.
Though I eagerly awaited Mass Effect 3, I knew to be prepared to lose some of these characters that I had become so close to over the last several years. But even if it hurt, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Good story telling requires love and loss, and with so much at stake Shepard simply could not come out of it with everyone he left with. If he did, the story would feel cheap, less meaningful. So I knew that when I headed to Tuchanka last night, I needed to be prepared. I had Wrex and Mordin at my side, both of whom I adored. I had already had close calls with Grunt and Kasumi…I figured the next one wouldn’t be so close.
I still wasn’t prepared. Bioware, when Mordin made his one way ascension to the Shroud, I wept like I haven’t done in years. It wasn’t pretty. Not since reading Where the Red Fern Grows when I was 10 have I had such a real reaction to something fiction. He spoke of the seashells, a line I had loved from earlier, and the tears came. He sang to himself in that trembling voice as the tower disintegrated around him, and I was inconsolable. After the ashes had settled, my husband and I poured a few shots and toasted our brave salarian. That’s right. We toasted a fictional character, and by God we meant it..
I don’t know what the rest of the game holds for me. But even if the rest of it is for some insane reason a disappointment, know that just that one moment has meant more to me than I can ever hope to explain. I studied fiction, character, story and narrative for 6 years and got two degrees in it. I’m a pretty damned good writer and an even better critic, and what I have experienced here is something that will resonate with me for a very, very long time. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for putting so much of your lives into this series, for caring so much and going to such great lengths to make it what it is. Thank you for enduring the unrelenting and often harsh reaction of fans. Thank you for something I am always, always seeking as I go through life – a good story. And thank you for my scientist salarian, and for sending him out with one hell of a bang.
Modifié par silvercharmer, 10 mars 2012 - 03:23 .
Retour en haut
He went out for a very honorable cause and doing something he loves, science. If he had to die thanks to the reapers, I'm glad he went out that way.
