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[bc525]

CulturalGeekGirl wrote...

I've been away from this thread for a few days, so I want to go back to something from a few pages ago. It made me spend the last few days ruminating on why the ending does work for some people, despite the thematic incongruity.

...

This next part is going to get a bit wild and wooly. I'm going to descirbe some patterns I've seen in the "pro-ender" rhetorical modes. I don't think all pro-enders feel this way, and if you have a reason for enjoying the ending that doesn't fit into these categories, I'd be genuinely interested in hearing it.

...

Yet in the ending, no matter what, a Shepard who believes in both free will and diversity is forced to compromise who he is. 

Category One = “lightweight refusal-to-overthink”

Category Two = “destroy was the obvious option”

Category Three = “they lack deep investment in one of the three primary themes of the piece”

It’s a difficult thing to classify myself, but I can try to clarify why the ME3 ending worked for me. I’ll try, but I seriously doubt that I can truly (and objectively) classify myself into a category. And good gosh, if those three categories you listed are your impressions of “pro-enders”, then you don’t seem to have a very high opinion for those of us that were okay with the ME3 ending. I can see aspects of my reaction to ME3 in your three categories, but it’s not all that pleasant to be associated with traits such as lightweight and lacking.

To some extent I related with a Destiny theme for my Shepard in ME3. I always understood that some version of the “destroy” option was going to be present in the ending, and I was also prepared for the fact that Shepard most likely would have to make the ultimate sacrifice at the end. Sacrifice was a strong theme in ME3, and it made sense to me.

As I wrote a while back, my Shepard was of a single-minded motivation to stop the Reapers, most logically by destroying them. It was my Shepard’s mode and modus, his central kick. We had gone to extensive effort to construct our Crucible super-weapon, but for some reason at the moment of truth, the dang thing wouldn’t work. My Shepard shared Hackett’s bewilderment … “Nothing’s happening!”

Shepard had very likely been mortally wounded. He’d staggered past piles of corpses, he’d finally dispatched The Illusive Man, and he’d watched his buddy Anderson die. And now our wonderful super-weapon had fizzled?! A pretty dark frame of mind at that point, to say the least. Basically, this was not going well. Ultimate failure was becoming a real possibility.

So when the Catalyst Child revealed the trigger that would launch some doom at the Reapers, understandably my Shepard had the reaction of “Let’s light this candle!” However, it did complicate matters when the Calalyst also revealed the Geth, EDI, synthetics, technology, etc. would be destroyed as well. I was prepared for Shepard to make the ultimate sacrifice himself, but I wasn’t quite prepared for the extent of the collateral damage that would come with that.

But I noticed while firing at the pressure point that would launch our Crucible into action, Shepard seemed to straighten and gain strength as he was firing. To me that confirmed Shepard was totally committed to this course of action, so much so that he actually moved into the blast.

I related with the Diversity theme extremely well, and that point was wonderfully depicted by the Prothean character’s attitudes. Through discussions with Javik, it was discovered that a major reason the Protheans did in fact fail was the lack of diversity throughout their empire. I saw the Synthesis option in complete conflict with our cycle’s notable strength – our diversity. Synthesis was a no-go.

I equated the Control option with Indoctrination, which confused me that this option was colored in Paragon Blue. As many have pointed out, the confrontation with The Illusive Man was very fresh in my mind, and the Control option just had failure written all over it. Control was a no-go.

So through the ending sequence, my Shepard’s feelings during the entire journey were being confirmed. The Destroy option was indeed present, and of his available options, it was the way to proceed. At some point I was willing to understand my Shepard’s free will would be compromised and his hand could be forced to fulfill his destiny. That breaking of the theme of free will seems to be the largest obstacle for many folks.

Looking back at your pro-ender categories, I just don’t see that Cat one would apply to me. I guess I somewhat fall into Cat’s two and three. I did feel that the Destroy option was the most acceptable available option, and for the most part I didn’t totally invest in the theme of complete and utter free will. I was aware of a sense of destiny for Shepard, albeit a somewhat dark and difficult one.

(update = fixed some bad formatting problems)

Modifié par bc525, 24 avril 2012 - 02:48 .

[Strange Aeons]

Marsz. Kula wrote...

Great post, but I think there's a theme in this series that's been vastly overlooked, and that theme is futility.

Perhaps there's a good reason why it's been overlooked.

[-Spartan]

DaddyFoxDerek wrote...

CulturalGeekGirl wrote...
For me, the central theme of the series has always been companionship, and the connections between a person and those around them. This ties in with the themes of cooperation and diversity, but I think it's a valid theme in and of itself.

In the end, I didn't let the genophage cure go through because I knew it was a good idea. I let it go through because Mordin thought it was a good idea, and I trusted him implicitly. There was no sacrifice for me, there. I was sad, but not in any way conflicted: I was letting my companion, who I trusted, do what he thought was right. It was a tearful triumph but it was not my sacrifice. To claim that any "sacrifice" was being made by Shepard there feels almost insanely narcissistic.

This is so very well said.

No doubt. 

[fle6isnow]

For more literary analysis, see this post on The Escapist forums by someone who believes the themes of the series are Sacrifice, Forgiveness, and Entropy (although, I would rephrase this last one as "cyclical nature of things" or maybe even "destiny")

http://www.escapistm...spoilers?page=1

[Sable Phoenix]

Strange Aeons wrote...

drayfish wrote...

I'm sure in my diatribe with Made Nightwing I would have cited Charles Dickens being alert to, and adapting his writing in response to the floods of letters he received from his fans in the serialised delivery of stories such as The Old Curiosity Shop. And I know I mentioned F.Scott Fitzgerald extensively redrafting Tender is the Night for a second publishing after receiving negative critical feedback.  Indeed, whatever you think of the final result, Ridley Scott was able to reassert a definitive vision of Blade Runner in spite of its original theatrical release.  Despite what critics might burble about artistic vision there is innumerable precedent for such reshaping, even beyond fundamental industry practices such as play-testings and film test-screenings.  If a work of art has failed in its communicative purpose (and unless angering and bewildering its most invested fans was the goal, then Mass Effect 3 has done so), then it cannot be considered a success, and is not worthy of regard.

I haven't had a whole lot of time to write on the forums lately, but I just wanted to add something to the thread...

There was a great essay called A Reader’s Manifesto published in the Atlantic Monthly several years back. I’d encourage anyone who’s interested in novels to read it, but the gist of it is that clear writing with a focus on telling a story has yielded to shallow, gratuitous stylistic showboating in so-called “literary” fiction over the last few decades. Novels, Myers asserts, have become more about the author showcasing himself—“a 300-page caption for the photo on the dust jacket”—than about what, if anything, he actually has to say. While Myers focuses specifically on prose fiction, I think the argument has some relevance to the whole ME3 fiasco.

One passage in particular stands out to me:

B.R. Myers wrote…

“Everything is "in," in other words, as long as it keeps the reader at a respectfully admiring distance. This may seem an odd trend when one considers that the reading skills of American college students, who go on to form the main audience for contemporary Serious Fiction, have declined markedly since the 1970s. Shouldn't a dumbed-down America be more willing to confer literary status on straightforward prose, instead of encouraging affectation and obscurity?

Not necessarily. In Aldous Huxley's Those Barren Leaves (1925) a character named Mr. Cardan makes a point that may explain today's state of affairs.

Aldous Huxley wrote...

Really simple, primitive people like their poetry to be as ... artificial and remote from the language of everyday affairs as possible. We reproach the eighteenth century with its artificiality. But the fact is that Beowulf is couched in a diction fifty times more complicated and unnatural than that of [Pope's poem] Essay on Man.

Mr. Cardan comes off in the novel as a bit of a windbag, but there is at least anecdotal evidence to back up his observation. We know, for example, that European peasants were far from pleased when their clergy stopped mystifying them with Latin. Edward Po****e (1604-1691) was an English preacher and linguist whose sermons, according to the Oxford Book of Literary Anecdotes, "were always composed in a plain style upon practical subjects, carefully avoiding all show and ostentation of learning."

But from this very exemplary caution not to amuse his hearers (contrary to the common method then in vogue) with what they could not understand, some of them took occasion to entertain very contemptible thoughts of his learning ... So that one of his Oxford friends, as he traveled through Childrey, inquiring for his diversion of some of the people, Who was their minister, and how they liked him? received this answer: "Our parson is one Mr. Po****e, a plain honest man. But Master," said they, "he is no Latiner."

Don't get me wrong—I'm not comparing anyone to a peasant. But neither am I prepared to believe that the decline of American literacy has affected everyone but fans of Serious Fiction. When reviewers and prize jurors tout a repetitive style as "the last word in gnomic control," or a jumble of unsustained metaphor as "lyrical" writing, it is obvious that they, too, are having difficulty understanding what they read. Would Mr. Cardan be puzzled to find them in the thrall of writers who are deliberately obscure, or who chant in strange cadences? I doubt it. And what could be more natural than that the same elite should scorn unaffected English as "workmanlike prose"—an idiom incompatible with real literature? Stephen King's a plain, honest man, just the author to read on the subway. But Master, he is no Latiner.

It’s especially ironic that Bioware's own would-be Latiners have chosen to mount their defense on the hill of “artistic integrity,” considering that their failure to trust in the integrity of their own creation is most directly responsible for ME3’s disastrous ending. The artistic vision of Mass Effect was never its visual style, nor its combat, nor even its story, because there was no one story: everyone’s Shepard played out differently. It was the unprecedented interactivity that allowed players to shape their own story.

This story, though, was never a complex one. It followed the highly conventional heroic arc of a man who rose from humble origins to lead a struggle against near-impossible odds. Its main themes were simple and familiar: things like the value of self-determination and the strength that can be achieved through unity of purpose. If there was one lesson that pervaded the series, it was that by working together and trusting in your friends you can overcome obstacles you never thought possible. So, in other words, it was pretty much like every other RPG ever made in that respect.

Interactive fiction generally works best when painted with a relatively broad brush, and like Star Trek before it Mass Effect was driven more by the primary-color personal stories of the crew than by subtle, high-concept philosophical themes. The two most memorable sequences of the first two games, Virmire and the suicide mission, stood out not because of the vastness of their scope but because of the intimacy of their detail. On Virmire, ME1’s signature moment, the writers took the time to introduce us to Captain Kirrahe and the Salarians. We talked to them; we saw that Kirrahe was a brave and competent leader; we experienced the inspiring “Hold the Line” speech alongside his men. Then we went the extra mile and sent one of our own Alliance crew (we get to choose which) into danger with him. The result of this setup was that the distraction team was no longer just a faceless collection of redshirts hauling the plot mechanically forward: they became people that we cared about.

This emotional connection provided added motivation to keep them safe and the game rewarded you for playing well by allowing you to do just that, until you ran out of third options and finally had make a difficult choice between two of your crewmates who have been with you since the beginning. This moment, where the game took a deep, portentous breath, the camera focused on Shepard and you made the call on who lived and who died, succeeded spectacularly for several reasons. It flowed naturally from the sense of desperation that had ratcheted upward from the start of Virmire, never seeming abrupt or contrived. Even though you couldn’t avoid the decision, it was ultimately up to you who died, thus preserving a meaningful level of interactivity. In fact, in my own game Kaiden’s brave response to the situation had the side effect of dramatically raising my opinion of him, where I’d been fairly ambivalent up to that point. That was powerful stuff, and while heartbreaking it was also memorable for all the right reasons.

Later, you had the opportunity to make another key decision, this time about the fate of the Council. As with Virmire, though, this choice was the product of extensive buildup that we experienced over the course of the game. From the very beginning you had to fight tooth and nail to get the Council to acknowledge the truth about their golden boy, Saren, and they resented that you were right and they were wrong. Your induction as a Spectre was presented as a grudging concession to political necessity. They proceeded to second-guess your every move and their attitudes toward you ranged from condescending to openly contemptuous. Then, at the end, the tables were turned and you could decide either that the Council is hopelessly broken or to look past their foolishness and decide that continuing to work within the system is in everyone’s best interests. Both options were equally valid, arrived after substantial buildup that we ourselves witnessed, had clear benefits and drawbacks, and set a distinctive and internally-consistent philosophical tone for your character that propagated into ME2.

Surprisingly, for all that ME2 “streamlined” away so many of ME1’s more distinctive features the storytelling approach remained largely intact. In designing the suicide mission, the writers were savvy enough to understand why the previous game was satisfying and crafted a scenario in which you were not attacking the Collector base merely to save “the galaxy.” You were there to save Dr. Chakwas, and Donnelley & Daniels, and Kelly Chambers, and the rest of the Normandy’s crew. They were not “humanity,” the concept; they were actual humans with names and faces, people you’d talked with and played poker with and drank with. They fed your fish and bantered with each other in the engine room. The Collectors were not just some impersonal force threatening “Earth.” They were the bastards who invaded your home and kidnapped or killed your friends. It’s not complicated, but building the action around these details made it personal, and therefore made it work.  See, when you spend all your time alone in your tower contemplating "humanity," you end up like the Illusive Man.  When you spend your time down on the ground with actual humans, well, that's where you find Commander Shepard.

For a while longer the pattern held, at least through ME3’s middle act. Rannoch was not about exploring the compatibility of organics and synthetics; it was about Tali and Legion. Tuchanka was not an abstract meditation on the ethics of science and warfare; it was about Wrex and Mordin. Every major event had a name and a face attached to it, and individuals made all the difference in the outcome. That’s why people really cared about these stories. Then, for reasons known only to them, they decided they had to go big. They zoomed out the camera to capture the grand panoramic sweep, and in doing so lost sight of what made these stories truly worthwhile.

Maybe they genuinely thought this was what people wanted; maybe they just didn’t understand their own creation; or maybe the temptation to make their presence known and place their distinctive stamp on the outcome was just too much for Casey Hudson & Co. to resist. Whatever the reason, straightforward plot progression gave way to cryptic, surreal, slow-motion sequences straight out of Max Payne. Your friends and allies who had been at your side the whole journey helping you overcome every obstacle were summarily sent packing; the new high-concept story has no time for such trifles (note that even before reaching the Citadel, not one previous character or decision you’ve influenced has any significant impact on the way either the ground or space battles play out). And lest the ignorant peasants muck up the grand design, meaningful interaction via the dialogue wheel—the defining gameplay mechanic of the series—was done away with when it was needed the most.

And people, by and large, hated it. 

I’ve heard it described as fumbling at the 1-yard line, but it’s worse than that. It’s like they marched the ball down the field with a solid running game, and then when it was 1st and 10 at the 1 they suddenly decided to run some flashy reverse option that resulted in a 104-yard pick 6.

So, when I hear Bioware loudly congratulating themselves on their “vision” while remaining conspicuously silent on the subject of what exactly is so great about it; when I see reviewers striving breathlessly to outdo one another in singing Bioware’s praises while ignoring the catalog of problems that so vex the unwashed masses, I can’t help thinking that this whole episode says a lot more about a juvenile industry desperate for a gloss of cultural credibility than it does about ME3. Then I’m reminded of the difference between the genuine creation of art and the affectation of what Chesterton called the “artistic temperament. As the widespread, visceral revulsion to ME3’s ending indicates, even an audience “brainwashed to equate artsiness with art,” to use Myers’ apt phrase, can sense the emperor has no clothes.

The sad thing is, this bluff has worked so well for Bioware that I half-suspect they’re starting to believe it themselves. They have no idea what they’re trying to say, but they’ll defend to the death their license to charge us $60 for saying it.

Wow.

... yeah, that's about all I can say.  Wow.

This is completely brilliant from start to finish.  A more penetrating analysis of exactly why (rather than how) BioWare dropped the ball with ME3, I have yet to see.

There's no way I could possibly add anything to this, but I just had to bring it back here and note that every word speaks something I feel.  This thread is amazing in helping me to focus and crystalize my problems with the game, and this post is one of the best here.

Modifié par Sable Phoenix, 24 avril 2012 - 07:41 .

[Sable Phoenix]

drayfish wrote...


There is so much fruitful conversation and discussion going on throughout this thread that when I read through the posts I hardly know where to start – you take one step in any direction and stumble into analytical gold. I know I keep blathering on about this, but thank you all so much for such worthwhile inquisition into this text. My comments for now are going to therefore be more dispersed (and frankly not very helpful to anyone) because I am just thrilled to be a exploring everyone else's wonderful analysis.
 
I step in one direction and find a particularly enjoyable discussion into authorship currently going on between Deliphicovenant42 and Optimistickied... These are intriguing (albeit loaded) questions, speaking directly to the heart of a number of very contentious notions of signification. Does a text begin its life with the intent of the creators? Or does it in fact take its first metaphorical breath the moment it is received by its audience? 
 
As you rightly acknowledge in your discussion, Deliphicovenant42, technical proficiency in narrative is a tricky thing. If you look at a number of cinema script-writing text books they frequently use the first Matrix film as an example of a perfectly crafted three-act structure, even commending the plotting down to the fall of action on a page-by-page breakdown. And it is fairly universally considered a successful tale. (I said 'first' film, goodly-pitch-fork-wielding horde – I'll join you to hunt down the second and third films momentarily...) However, if you perform the same examination of Love, Actually, although it is made up of several structurally sound narratives, each perfectly aligned for effect, the film makes me want to tear out my eyes whenever I hear its cheery strains.  CulturalGeekGirl expressed much the same sentiment (though in a much finer phrasing) in an earlier discussion of Art, but: somehow – inexplicably – great narratives emerge from that wonderfully indefinable way in which great writers manage to modulate familiar tropes, and it's always a frustratingly individual instance every time.
 
And I suspect you might have something in your theory that the more abstracted from familiar patterns one gets the more vehemently a lover of those patterns become – but I say that because I happily include the whole of nerd culture within such categories. We can celebrate what others fail to see value in (I still love you Firefly!) our passions only elevated by the sense that we have a window into its true purpose and worth.
 
There's a whole army of literary theorists (usually fronted by Roland Barthes in the 'Death of the Author'), that would argue that the meaning of a text only lies in its interaction with the audience – with their engagement with the work and their estimation of its purpose - and we've already seen in this thread that people are engaging with this text in an array of legitimate responses that could not possibly have been foreseen nor predicted. (By the way, they are not really an army of literary theorists. That would be a terrible army.)
 
And I must say, in light of such freedom to interact with a text, I really admire players like Optimistickied (and although I don't want to put words in anyone's mouth, I think bc525 also) seeing the endings as a chrysalis from which an entirely new narrative paradigm can stem; one that now (like the post-Shepard universe) opens up to a wealth of fresh thematic possibilities. Again, unfortunately, my own reading of the text struggles with this premise (as it seems a number of other interpreters here do), but for audience members alert to such a reading it's an exciting speculative launching point, and a bold way forward. One of which I am genuinely envious...
 
Then, heartened by such multiplicity of reading, I take a step in another direction and find a revolutionary way of interacting with narrative entirely – for, as Keyrlis points out, if you don't want to take that step into the current ending's wilderness, and remain profoundly unsatisfied with the conclusion, the Indoctrination Theory seems to offer a legitimate means of sublimating the current canon. The Mass Effect universe has continuously positioned itself as a fundamentally interactive narrative: the player's investment in and manipulation of the fiction has been central to its communication for years now, so it seems the perfect vehicle through which to further a dynamic meta-fictional progression of these characters and their ongoing fight.
 
As I mentioned to Keyrlis (and I apologise for tediously repeating myself), I was just recently introduced to a comic series on  DeviantArt by an extraordinarily talented artist named koobismo that follows the further adventures of Marauder Shields, running parallel with the events of Shepard's moment of ascent to the Crucible. It's a series of short narratives that – although beginning as something of a pithy jab at the ending – now seems to be evolving into a legitimate and emotional alternate conclusion to the work that I would struggle to dismiss as mere 'fan-fiction'.)

Thank you everyone for this fabulous interpretive buffet. You are all addressing principle elements of text and meaning in adaptive, ingenious ways that would make turgid academics proud. Truly, I'm just desperately trying to fill my tray and avoid sneezing on anyone else's plate.  ...Okay, that metaphor went to a weird place.

(p.s. – Keyrlis, did you call me a seahorse? If not, I'm afraid to say I missed the reference; if so: I like it. As long as I'm riding a seahorse. Maybe wielding a trident or something.)

So, in other words...

"LOTS OF SPECULATION FOR EVERYONE!"

... I'm sorry, that was trollish.  But I couldn't resist.

It does bring up an interesting thought, however: would we be seeing anything even close to this depth of discussion and analysis if the ending had been good (I'm thinking not)?  And if not, would it actually have been a good ending in the first place?  Judged by that metric, isn't the ending we got, in fact, the best we could have had?

... Oh my gosh.  I'm devil's-advocating myself.

In order to try and recover some semblance of sanity, I'll say that the ending could have been both narratively and thematically coherent and still have incited this level of analysis.  It would then have not been just a good ending; it would have been brilliant.  If they had gone with a complete, finished version of Indoctrination, for example, I think we would see this kind of response, and Mass Effect 3 would have, as I've mentioned elsewhere, stood as the first true example in history of video games as a deep and meaningful art form.

[Sable Phoenix]

SkaldFish wrote...

Strange Aeons wrote...

As the widespread, visceral revulsion to ME3’s ending indicates, even an audience “brainwashed to equate artsiness with art,” to use Myers’ apt phrase, can sense the emperor has no clothes.

Excellent point.

We are also being conditioned by most popular forms of entertainment to find mediocrity perfectly acceptable. Eventually a tipping point is reached. When most people can no longer distinguish art from kitsch (or perhaps fail to acknowledge the value of such a distinction), any outliers begin to experience significant pressure to conform to conventional wisdom. If we couple that with a growing reliance on deconstructionist approaches to criticism, we condemn ourselves to a future in which creative genius is irrelevant. Exceptional ability is rendered moot; we can no longer even recognize it. Nothing matters except our ability as viewer/listener/reader/player to manufacture a personally satisfying experience in response to a stimulus.

This is exactly why something like Twilight becomes a pop culture sensation.

Fantastic point, Skald.

Modifié par Sable Phoenix, 24 avril 2012 - 06:26 .

[drayfish]

Sable Phoenix wrote...

In order to try and recover some semblance of sanity, I'll say that the ending could have been both narratively and thematically coherent and still have incited this level of analysis.  It would then have not been just a good ending; it would have been brilliant.  If they had gone with a complete, finished version of Indoctrination, for example, I think we would see this kind of response, and Mass Effect 3 would have, as I've mentioned elsewhere, stood as the first true example in history of video games as a deep and meaningful art form.

@ Sable Phoenix:

Oh... I would have loved that.  Obviously we are in full rosy-glasses speculation territory here (sorry to use the word 'speculation' - I felt people flinch): but a nice rich enactment of Indoctrination Theory that then allowed you to fight free and play out some satisfying conclusions with the still lingering possibility, gnawing at your subconscious, that perhaps, after it all, you never really got out of the dream?  Mmm mmm.  That's good eating.

Sure, it would have been dipping into some (perhaps painfully) familiar sci-fi tropes (is there anyone on the planet who hasn't seen Inception at this point?), but it certainly would have opened a narrative window for some healthy speculation, while still (again, rosy, rosy, rosy) potentially delivering one almighty triumphant/tragic/poigniant finale.

Modifié par drayfish, 24 avril 2012 - 05:50 .

[2papercuts]

And this doesn't even touch on the other themes like strength through unity that are just destroyed by the ending

[CulturalGeekGirl]

I want to make an elaborate post but I'm tired and I really should be either cleaning or baking right now.

This thread has made me realize more and more that we have one main area of contention after all the confusion is stripped away. The primary thing that seems to govern whether or not you enjoyed the ending is what you think the theme of the series is.

I'm thinking of putting together a survey about this. The problem is nailing down all the possible themes without the kind of overlap that would "split the vote" between similar themes... because you know what splitting the vote gets us...  BLONDE SHEPARDS. Sorry, sorry. Too soon.

So far on my little list of potential main themes I have, in random order: synthetics vs organics, diversity, free will, triumph in the face of overwhelming odds, destiny, futility, strength through unity, companionship & camaraderie, sacrifice, and human superiority. Anything big I'm missing?

Modifié par CulturalGeekGirl, 24 avril 2012 - 05:57 .

[fle6isnow]

CulturalGeekGirl wrote...

I want to make an elaborate post but I'm tired and I really should be either cleaning or baking right now.

This thread has made me realize more and more that we have one main area of contention after all the confusion is stripped away. The primary thing that seems to govern whether or not you enjoyed the ending is what you think the theme of the series is.

I'm thinking of putting together a survey about this. The problem is nailing down all the possible themes without the kind of overlap that would "split the vote" between similar themes... because you know what splitting the vote gets us...  BLONDE SHEPARDS. Sorry, sorry. Too soon.

So far on my little list of potential main themes I have, in random order: synthetics vs organics, diversity, free will, triumph in the face of overwhelming odds, destiny, futility, strength through unity, companionship & camaraderie, sacrifice, and human superiority. Anything big I'm missing?

I would add in order vs. chaos, and possibly forgiveness as well.

[Sable Phoenix]

fle6isnow wrote...

>regretful snippage<

To me, this seems like one of the biggest complaints of people about ME3. You finally see Shepard vulnerable, weak, and beaten, even suffering from survivor's guilt, as evidenced by those annoying dream sequences. She's not the big goddamned hero that she was in the previous games--in fact, in the face of the galactic cycle that has been going on for millions of years, she is nothing. A lot of people, Dr. Dray included, seem to really, really hate this theme. I, however, find it powerful and humbling. The fact that Shepard even has a chance to choose at the end is huge, and as Starbrat says, "you have choice, more than you know", because the alternative is simply the continuation of the cycle.

I have to take issue with this.  No, I don't hate that theme.  I love that theme.  Seeing a beaten, vulnerable Shepard's humanity showing through the growing cracks of the rock-hard facade was one of the highlights of the Mass Effect 3 experience.

The issue I, and I assume others like me, have with the scenario you lay out, is that Shepard inexplicably shifts, as soon as the Catalyst appears, from an active protagonist to a passive one.  Yes, the mounting cost weighs on Shepard.  We are shown this in no uncertain terms.  But no matter how heavy the burden, whether it's from ironclad faith in an ideal, whether it's because of an overgrown sense of competitive ego, or whether it's from sheer stubborn bloody-mindedness, Shepard is always acting.  Shepard always responds, always moves forward, and never gives up on the goal.  And the goal is key; Shepard may (arguably) give up on herself, but there's something bigger than herself she strives for, and that is what she will never give up on.

The ending may be unavoidably bleak, but Shepard will never lie down and accept it.  She will "not go gentle into that good night"; she will "rage, rage against the dying of the light," even if the action is as futile as Dylan Thomas would have us believe.

Shepard is the woman whose arms are literally running with blood, struggling on hands and knees towards the console while the darkness closes in around her, reaching for the means to end the Reapers even as she bleeds out and collapses.  I will readily agree with you: that is a powerful, painful, moving image, to see the tip of humanity's spear striving even unto death to finish her task.

This is why Shepard (at least femShep, according to her fans, of which I'm one) is among the greatest female heroes in all of science fiction, right up there with Ripley and Sarah Connor.  Outside, she's a rock-hard shell.  Inside, she's a vulnerable woman.  But her core, her spine, the part of her that really matters when all is said and done, is solid steel.  And in ten minutes, a little glowing hologram ghost child strips away that central core of the character and renders her a hollow shell.  That person we are looking at speaking to the Catalyst is no longer Shepard. That is what makes people angry; they have lost someone they cared for, with no explanation whatsoever, and had her replaced with an imposter.

This plays into my belief that, even if the Indoctrination Theory is not true (and as much as I want it to be true I fully admit that BioWare has indicated it is not), everything we see from the point Shepard ascends into the light (look, SYMBOLISM!) onward is, in fact, metaphorical.  The conversation with the ghosty boy takes place inside Shepard's dying, suffocating brain.  How else can someone who just collapsed from blood loss be able to stand and walk?  How else could her arms now be miraculously clean when they were drenched with blood not two minutes previous?  Her strange acquiescence to the Catalyst's dreamlike appearance is probably hypoxia taking hold; she literally has no fight left in her.  Nevertheless, Shepard, due to her partially synthetic nature, directly interfaces with the systems of the Crucible/Citadel/Catalyst through that metaphorical vision while still physically lying in front of the computer console, and activates it with her dying breath (of course, we have the possibility she wakes up buried in rubble back in London, which just makes no sense, but we'll leave that for the Extended Cut to explain I suppose).  She is the only human who could do so.

It still doesn't address the thematic concerns, or the narrative inconsistencies, but based on what we know of Shepard's character it at least makes more sense than taking everything at face value.

Modifié par Sable Phoenix, 24 avril 2012 - 07:45 .

[drayfish]

fle6isnow wrote...

[In [i]ME2[/i]] The ending choice is a sacrifice as well--do you sacrifice the collector base for your idealism, or do you sacrifice your idealism to give humanity an edge over the Reapers? As a counterpoint to "I won't let fear compromise who I am" if you destroy the collector base, if you save the collector base, TIM tells you "don't let idealism blind you."
....
To me, this seems like one of the biggest complaints of people about ME3. You finally see Shepard vulnerable, weak, and beaten, even suffering from survivor's guilt, as evidenced by those annoying dream sequences. She's not the big goddamned hero that she was in the previous games--in fact, in the face of the galactic cycle that has been going on for millions of years, she is nothing. A lot of people, Dr. Dray included, seem to really, really hate this theme. I, however, find it powerful and humbling. The fact that Shepard even has a chance to choose at the end is huge, and as Starbrat says, "you have choice, more than you know", because the alternative is simply the continuation of the cycle.

Great post, Fle6isnow – a fine argument, convincingly described, and persuasively positioning the current ending in the context of continuing the ideological negotiation that Shepard has had to progressively endure throughout.
 
It's not a huge deal, but I just wanted to clarify: like you (and it sounds, like Sable Phoenix also), I actually love the image of Shepard beaten down at the ending, revealed once again to be merely mortal in a swirling galactic stage that almost comically dwarfs his/her individual fight. That's always been the journey for Shepard: human soldier elevated to the symbol of Spectre because of his/her capacity to endure, and fight tenaciously despite the overwhelming odds.
 
My issue is that in this final, broken state on the Crucible, it felt that his/her core beliefs had to be also violated, and it is at this point at which I don't believe Shepard would bend or bow. (And again, this is entirely my own subjective opinion.) Bruised, bloodied, beaten to death, dragging him/herself across the gorram floor to keep fighting?  Absolutely.  Nodding almost-voicelessly as some snot-nosed self-confessed cosmic serial killer offered three new arbitrary options?  No. 
 
As other astute posters have pointed out in this thread, this moral quandary need not be true if Shepard was a raging sociopath, or if Shepard's definition of 'life' remains inside the parameters of human biological existence, but for every variation of my Shepard, Control, Synthesise and Destroy all have reprehensible moral implications.
 
Although, again, great post, and fantastic summation of that snowballing of sacrifice that Shepard must endure to continue the fight.


p.s. - And Sable Phoenix?  Terminator, Alien and Dylan Thomas?  Nicely done.

Modifié par drayfish, 24 avril 2012 - 06:42 .

[fle6isnow]

Sable, Drayfish, I stand corrected on that point, at least for you guys. And yes, yes, yes, FemShep is way up there in terms of Sci Fi heroines!

Sable Phoenix wrote...

This plays into my belief that, even if the Indoctrination Theory is not true (and as much as I want it to be true I fully admit that BioWare has indicated it is not), everything we see from the point Shepard ascends into the light (look!  SYMBOLISM!) onward is, in fact, metaphorical.  The conversation with the ghosty boy takes place inside Shepard's dying, suffocating brain.  How else can someone who just collapsed from blood loss be able to stand and walk?  How else could her arms now be miraculously clean when they were drenched with blood not two minutes previous?  Her strange acquiescence to the Catalyst's dreamlike appearance is probably hypoxia taking hold; she literally has no fight left in her.  Nevertheless, Shepard, due to her partially synthetic nature, directly interfaces with the systems of the Crucible/Citadel/Catalyst through that metaphorical vision while still physically lying in front of the computer console, and activates it with her dying breath (of course, we have the possibility she wakes up buried in rubble back in London, which just makes no sense, but we'll leave that for the Extended Cut to explain I suppose).  She is the only human who could do so.

Interesting point! That part could very well be all in her head. That would tie in to something mentioned in Tenojitsu's thread:

Skyblade012 wrote...

Very important bit of symbolism you missed, OP: The choice actions themselves.

Destruction, you shoot the power conduit. You create the destruction ending by performing a destructive path.

Control, you grab the handles. Grabbing and taking, symbolic of greed and control.

Synthesis, you leap out and embrace your fate. The whole acceptance/unity thing.

This symbolism would make so much more sense if it was all in her head, as I agree that it is rather ridiculous if she was literally shooting/grabbing/doing a swan-dive. Ultimately, I believe that even if it is in her head, the effects are very real, and the whole "interfacing with Catalyst/Crucible while Shepard is dying" thing would explain that.

[Sable Phoenix]

CulturalGeekGirl wrote...

I want to make an elaborate post but I'm tired and I really should be either cleaning or baking right now.

This thread has made me realize more and more that we have one main area of contention after all the confusion is stripped away. The primary thing that seems to govern whether or not you enjoyed the ending is what you think the theme of the series is.

I'm thinking of putting together a survey about this. The problem is nailing down all the possible themes without the kind of overlap that would "split the vote" between similar themes... because you know what splitting the vote gets us...  BLONDE SHEPARDS. Sorry, sorry. Too soon.

So far on my little list of potential main themes I have, in random order: synthetics vs organics, diversity, free will, triumph in the face of overwhelming odds, destiny, futility, strength through unity, companionship & camaraderie, sacrifice, and human superiority. Anything big I'm missing?

I think those are all secondary or tertiary themes.  Every literary work may be boiled down to a single, unifying, underlying, primary theme that runs through all its aspects.  When you find a theme that is as simple as a single word that can apply to every situation you see in the game, that's the main theme.  For Mass Effect, I think that theme is subtle, so that most people miss it.  Nevertheless it resonates through everything that Shepard does throughout all three games.

Perseverance.

Doesn't matter why you persevere; it can be for survival, love, avarice, idealism, competitiveness, or the simple inability to surrender.  It could be your programming to do so, or it could be your own free will.  It doesn't even matter if you succeed in the end.  But persevere you must, or you might as well never have existed.

Modifié par Sable Phoenix, 24 avril 2012 - 07:35 .

[CulturalGeekGirl]

I just don't see any of the things cited here as sacrifice being Shepard's sacrifices. Ash's death is Ash's sacrifice. Mordin's death is Mordin's sacrifice. Legion's was Legion's. They all owned their own destinies. I didn't sacrifice them, I let them go.

Destroying the Collector base was just sensible. I mean come on, how many times have we seen people say "Oh look, we'll just work with this Reaper-related technology," and how has that turned out pretty much every single time? I didn't feel like I was giving up an advantage, I felt like someone was trying to use fear to lead me to make a bad call. I saw the Collector base as the metaphorical handgun in the nightstand - sure it'll make you feel safer, but it is much more likely to backfire than to be an effective defense. It was the rejection of the hubris that TiM represented.

But forget all that. I'll agree that sacrifice is a theme, if not so much for Shepard, for her companions and the universe as a whole. Still, let's look at those sacrifices. Nearly every other death we see in the series, every other sacrifice... very few people die alone. Everyone dies for something they really believe in, with confidence that it will be successful. Shepard, and Shepard alone, is asked to die alone for something she really doesn't believe in, for something that deeply contradicts her core beliefs about the universe. She's asked to die with no certainty of achieving the results she seeks. She's asked to die on the say-so of a genocidal maniac who is clearly either lying or incorrect in his description of how the universe works.

She's asked to die alone.

Bugger. That. Noise.

Yeah by the end Shepard is tired, and weakened, and lost. Sometimes what doesn't kill you makes you really really weak, and almost killed. (to paraphrase Norm Macdonald.) This isn't news. She's been walking wounded putting on a brave face for as long as I can remember.

Hell, I can prove that the assumption about what some of us anti-enders don't like about the ending is false. Do you know the ending I wanted? My first mental edit after seeing how the green ending played out?

I wanted Garrus there with me. Or Liara. Anyone. I wanted to be able to bounce this kid's insane options off of someone I trusted. I wanted to take the leap into the unknown together, as we had every other leap before. For me, the themes of trust and companionship are so vital to the series that their presence would have completely mitigated the horrors of everything else we were presented with.

The mere ability to get the feedback of any living being you trusted would have given the starchild's choices weight. We could have taken cues from our friends as to whether or not to take this seriously.

I wanted... this:

"So, Garrus. Standing on the brink of a column of light, ready to infuse the entire universe with... something. Is this how you pictured yourself going out?"
"No. I always kinda assumed it'd be a lot more mundane... rocket to the face, eaten by a reaper, covered in space wasps..."
"But here we are."
"Yeah. And I wouldn't have it any other way."
"Do you think we're doing the right thing?"
"My guess is as good as yours. I guess we can never know how things will turn out. You just gotta..."
"Take the leap."

They jump together, Butch and Sundance style. We see them fade into the column of light, disappearing entirely.

Roll credits.

Modifié par CulturalGeekGirl, 24 avril 2012 - 07:57 .

[edisnooM]

Phew, finally managed to slog my way through 36 pages.

I have to say this thread contains some truly fascinating and well composed discussion. So well done to all contributors.

I think if nothing else the ME3 ending has led to some of the most interesting articles, videos, and analysis I've ever seen. 

As can be seen from my signature I did not personally care for the endings, but I am absolutely enjoying reading why others did (or did not), so keep it up.

[delta_vee]

fle6isnow wrote...

Sable Phoenix wrote...

This plays into my belief that, even if the Indoctrination Theory is not true (and as much as I want it to be true I fully admit that BioWare has indicated it is not), everything we see from the point Shepard ascends into the light (look!  SYMBOLISM!) onward is, in fact, metaphorical.  The conversation with the ghosty boy takes place inside Shepard's dying, suffocating brain.  How else can someone who just collapsed from blood loss be able to stand and walk?  How else could her arms now be miraculously clean when they were drenched with blood not two minutes previous?  Her strange acquiescence to the Catalyst's dreamlike appearance is probably hypoxia taking hold; she literally has no fight left in her.  Nevertheless, Shepard, due to her partially synthetic nature, directly interfaces with the systems of the Crucible/Citadel/Catalyst through that metaphorical vision while still physically lying in front of the computer console, and activates it with her dying breath (of course, we have the possibility she wakes up buried in rubble back in London, which just makes no sense, but we'll leave that for the Extended Cut to explain I suppose).  She is the only human who could do so.

Interesting point! That part could very well be all in her head. That would tie in to something mentioned in Tenojitsu's thread:

Skyblade012 wrote...

Very important bit of symbolism you missed, OP: The choice actions themselves.

Destruction, you shoot the power conduit. You create the destruction ending by performing a destructive path.

Control, you grab the handles. Grabbing and taking, symbolic of greed and control.

Synthesis, you leap out and embrace your fate. The whole acceptance/unity thing.

This symbolism would make so much more sense if it was all in her head, as I agree that it is rather ridiculous if she was literally shooting/grabbing/doing a swan-dive. Ultimately, I believe that even if it is in her head, the effects are very real, and the whole "interfacing with Catalyst/Crucible while Shepard is dying" thing would explain that.

I mentioned something very similar upthread:

http://social.biowar...886/33#11610121

Where I differ is that I don't think a sudden symbolic turn at the end fits well enough with the literalist, WYSIWYG approach used throughout the rest of the series. Even the dream sequences (which I thought were rather ham-fisted, especially when compared to the Scarecrow sequences in Arkham Asylum, for example) were literalized as dreams, instead of merely implied as such. This means that we have no textual suggestion that the impressionist ending was to be taken at anything but face value.

Sable Phoenix wrote...

It does bring up an interesting thought, however: would we be seeing anything even close to this depth of discussion and analysis if the ending had been good (I'm thinking not)?  And if not, would it actually have been a good ending in the first place?  Judged by that metric, isn't the ending we got, in fact, the best we could have had?

There's an older work of Orson Scott Card, long before he jumped headlong into hateful senility, called The Worthing Saga. One of the stories concerned a strategy game of sorts (think Civ on a grand scale, but followed intently by spectators, with the winner given some measure of fame and fortune), where the character (Abner Doon) bribes his way into taking over his grandfather's game. The grandfather is about to win, as thoroughly as has ever been done. Doon, though, begins sabotaging the game. Not just errors and missteps, not the kind of damage which would be a setback to be overcome later, but a complete destruction. When Doon is done, the faction he controlled was wiped out completely from the face of the game world.

The grandfather asks his grandson, why? Doon replies that if the game had simply been won, it would have faded away. Now its rise and fall will be studied forever.

[-Spartan]

CulturalGeekGirl wrote...

I want to make an elaborate post but I'm tired and I really should be either cleaning or baking right now.

This thread has made me realize more and more that we have one main area of contention after all the confusion is stripped away. The primary thing that seems to govern whether or not you enjoyed the ending is what you think the theme of the series is.

I'm thinking of putting together a survey about this. The problem is nailing down all the possible themes without the kind of overlap that would "split the vote" between similar themes... because you know what splitting the vote gets us...  BLONDE SHEPARDS. Sorry, sorry. Too soon.

So far on my little list of potential main themes I have, in random order: synthetics vs organics, diversity, free will, triumph in the face of overwhelming odds, destiny, futility, strength through unity, companionship & camaraderie, sacrifice, and human superiority. Anything big I'm missing?

It would be awesome to see a detailed well developed survey on the issue(s) at hand.  One that has a very large response rate for good analysis.  It would simply be a great postmortem learning tool to be sure.  

On a side note, there is an interesting critique here (another forum system) that many participants in this thread would be interested in reading methinks.

Modifié par -Spartan, 24 avril 2012 - 12:56 .

[DoctorCrowtgamer]

I have said it before and I will say it again,this guy hit the nail on the head and that is why extended endings will not fix anything.

[CmnDwnWrkn]

"And if one of these three (and only these three) options must be selected in order to sustain life in the universe, then that life has been so devalued by that act as to make the sacrifice meaningless."

Possibly the greatest sentence ever written.

[SkaldFish]

CulturalGeekGirl wrote...

I just don't see any of the things cited here as sacrifice being Shepard's sacrifices. Ash's death is Ash's sacrifice. Mordin's death is Mordin's sacrifice. Legion's was Legion's. They all owned their own destinies. I didn't sacrifice them, I let them go.

<snip/>

I realize you make a larger point, so I snip hesitantly, but I do want to point out here that we should be careful about assignment of events to themes. Here, I think the problem is in a very loose definition of "sacrifice." In order to qualify as a sacrifice, your decision has to meet two criteria: (1) You have to give up something important for the sake of another thing deemed even more important; (2) that thing you give up has to be yours to give, so that you are personally impacted by the loss.

This is why, fle6isnow, while I think you made some interesting points about themes a few posts back, many of the examples you provide for sacrifice, like the destruction of the Collector base, are arguably examples of very difficult, high-stakes decisions instead. Shepard can sacrifice his/her life, love, health, dreams for the future, or left eye, but not the Collector base, the Rachni Queen, the Alliance Fleet, the Council, the Heretic Geth, or any of the examples you list for ME3.

[SkaldFish]

As an interesting aside to the themes discussion, the only theme that the Mass Effect team is documented as having established during development is "the conflict between organic and synthetic life." This is documented in Geoff Keighley's multimedia title The Final Hours of Mass Effect 3.

This is not to say other themes don't exist -- they obviously do -- but from the perspective of authorial intent, it's important to note that this particular theme drove the initial year-long development of the trilogy's setting, characters, and high-level narrative arc back in 2003 / 2004.

Modifié par SkaldFish, 24 avril 2012 - 04:57 .

[SkaldFish]

-Spartan wrote...

<snip/>
On a side note, there is an interesting critique here (another forum system) that many participants in this thread would be interested in reading methinks.

Thank you for that link. Some excellent points in that critique. I found this one especially interesting, probably because I realized it had been a troubling undercurrent that hadn't occurred to me on a conscious level:

"Bioware is big on 'character driven narrative experiences', 'your choices matter', and so on. Generally, they do not live up to this: in almost all their games, the narrative drives the characters, and not the other way around...." (emphasis mine)

Nowhere is the truth of this more evident than in the last few minutes of ME3.

Modifié par SkaldFish, 24 avril 2012 - 05:16 .

[-Spartan]

SkaldFish wrote...

-Spartan wrote...

<snip/>
On a side note, there is an interesting critique here (another forum system) that many participants in this thread would be interested in reading methinks.

Thank you for that link. Some excellent points in that critique. I found this one especially interesting, probably because I realized it had been a troubling undercurrent that hadn't occurred to me on a conscious level:

"Bioware is big on 'character driven narrative experiences', 'your choices matter', and so on. Generally, they do not live up to this: in almost all their games, the narrative drives the characters, and not the other way around...." (emphasis mine)

Nowhere is the truth of this more evident than in the last few minutes of ME3.

Yeah, it is overtly critical but seemingly well-reasoned. I figured for academic reasons people in this thread would be interested in it given the position and its evidence.