Emotional Repression, and The Girl Who Would Be Tank


**I will refrain from using game-specific terminology in this post, as it would break the flow of the article.**

Presea Combatir is one of, if not the greatest example of a tragic character in the beloved Tales franchise of video games. In a gambit to make herself useful to her struggling family after her sister falls ill, she subjects herself to a malevolent experiment, wherein she gains increased strength at the cost of her emotional and physical growth being permanently subdued. As such, she turns into a shell of the child she once was, and by the time she is found in the game, sixteen full years of this repression have cost her much of her humanity.

Though technically twenty-eight, Presea appears as a twelve-year-old girl, with her emotional and social maturity being practically non-existent. She is in a routine of soulless labor, with no cognitive attachment or awareness for the world around her. Even when her father dies, she doesn’t notice or care, allowing him to rot in his bed. Her freakish nature and questionable history have turned her into a pariah within her village, completely ostracized from peers and adults.

When at last the main cast of Tales of Symphonia is able to recover part of Presea’s humanity, much of the damage cannot be undone. Yet, she begins to age normally again, and slowly starts to form new connections with the world. She remains blunt and distant to communication with others, and does not understand social protocols. This is occasionally endearing, but mostly it’s sad. It becomes quickly apparent that her lack of emotions was something resembling a boon, for now that they were coming in full force, they were almost all negative. She grieves the years she lost, the family she doesn’t have anymore, and suffers without a clear purpose in the world. At the core of her reservation and ongoing melancholy is the tantalizing perception that, even with her new friends, she is ultimately still alone in this world. It is the bulk of her character arc from this point until the end of the game that she must realize, through the actions of her companions, that she is loved and has a home. It might not be the home she originally wanted or remembers, but it is something worth cherishing and protecting.

Protection is Presea’s strong suit, even as a combat asset within the game. Her size and cute appearance are deceptive. With her aforementioned inhuman fortitude, she can shrug off harm that would critically wound her friends. As such, she operates best as a “tank” for the team. That is, she offers herself as the one who, when everyone else must play it safe, walks into challenges head-on. She has faced hardship and hurt and damage, physically and emotionally, and they have strengthened her in a way her companions don’t immediately recognize. So, she’s the tank in every sense. The one who endures injury, but never relents.

Presea is my favorite character from Tales of Symphonia. Her tragedy aside, she is a wonderful, quirky little girl, fascinated by animal paws and woefully ignorant to the innocent flirtations of others. She is lost in the world, but possesses a durability in spite of her loneliness that things will somehow get better. It’s these things that I want to see more in myself, and hope to inspire in others.

Top 50 Instrumental Songs (Part 5/5)

This is the fifth in a five-part series to be released daily, in which I unpack my favorite instrumental songs in the history of, well, ever. Narrowing this list down was obviously difficult. There were four “waves” needed to thin out the contestants from my library of thousands, and once we got below one-hundred it was like pulling teeth.

Yet, I stayed true to my original goal of fifty, for my own sake, and not compromise that number. I wanted to know for myself what I believed were my favorites among the gallery of songs I so dearly love.  This following list is the conclusion of those struggles.  They are not in order.  Simply getting a pool of them was hard enough.  I do wish to leave with my sanity.

Many are favored because of their execution and style, while others, because of a particular attachment or association they have with my personal life.  With each entry will be a short blurb, explaining why it belongs. And for a disclaimer: if I couldn’t understand what language they were singing in, I considered the vocals as their own independent instruments, and thus things like Gregorian chants do not disqualify songs from being “instrumentals.”

Enjoy.


#41 – “Atonement” by Masashi Hamauzu

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1lZC8IUj-cw

My all-time favorite song, in-and-outside of instrumental music, accounting for all genres and all phases over the course of my nearly twenty-seven years of life. In the beginning, I didn’t think much more of it than “mmm, what a bittersweet sound,” but with time and repetition, it wiggled its way into the soft, squishy parts of my heart, and nested there.  I am not going to boast of its technical or emotional merits.  Just please do me the favor of listening to it a couple of times, and if you find it not capturing you right away, return later.  It is not for all moments of life, but imperative to a specific few which matter.  I hope you are fortunate enough to find this song in one of those times.

#42 – “Soul Battles” by Ryan Taubert

Similar to “Time” from Inception, “Soul Battles” darkly shines with a heavy, swaying sadness. It is the sound of somebody who is being overcome. I’m going to waylay my usual blurb for these entries.  Just let the music carry you away to the trenches.

#43 – “Kakariko Village” by Koji Kondo (performed by the Legend of Zelda 25th Anniversary Symphony)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t_FmaQiQcNE

This famous track from The Legend of Zelda practically oozes good feelings.  I feel safe when I hear this song.  I feel home.  This song precludes the adventure, showcasing the mystified daydreams of a hero-to-be, before he picks up the blade.  “Kakariko Village” is quaint, just like the village itself in every incarnation of Zelda.  I’m not the world’s biggest Zelda fan, but Link to the Past was one of the first games I ever played, and I would sometimes just leave my character sitting in the middle of the village to hear the soothing overture.  They brought perspective and optimism whenever I was feeling lost or uncertain in my direction.  It still makes me feel that way.  And for a song to be able to do that is nothing short of phenomenal.

#44 – “Kindred Spirits” by REEN

I think the image in the above video does a pretty good job of capturing my feelings towards this song.  “Kindred Spirits” is gingerly, romantically tragic.  An honest love, cracked down the middle by external powers.  Romeo and Juliet, except believable, and actually sad.  If I walked in on the scene depicted in that video, in that lighting…yeah, I can see how this song would fit.

#45 – “Friends” by Yoko Kanno

I have no idea what this show is about.  I’ve never seen Wolf’s Rain, but I discovered its soundtrack around the time I was reading a series called Bakuman.  A major theme in Bakuman is that of friendship and camaraderie, to which this song appropriately fits.  Yet, despite the earnestness of the track, it’s very clearly a song of bittersweet quality.  I suspect it originally plays in Wolf’s Rain to the scene of a friend dying, or having already passed and being reflected upon.  At any rate, that piano lacerates my strength.  I am made somber beneath its gentle might, just in time to be done in by the violins which follow after.  We approach the conclusion with a dirge of aching woodwinds, playing notes so low, they’re practically whispers.  Whispers between friends.  A promise to never forget one another.

#46 – “Ascending into Naught” by Demetori

(Despite the picture above, this is not from an anime…just a video game with anime aesthetics.)

It was difficult to narrow down one favorite from the Japanese metal band Demetori, but, gun to my head, I’d have to go with “Ascending Into Naught.”  This song has been on my workout playlists since my friend introduced me to it in college. The colliding harmony of layered guitars—some riding power chords, the others flying through high notes— synchronize perfectly with the piano to create what sounds to me like a grade-A, final boss video game track.  You can even tell when the final boss would go on its last leg.  Near the 5:48 mark, a slaughtering drum-line breaks through a tasteful lull in the energy of the song, ushering it to new heights, in which the guitars and piano/synth run a gauntlet of increased stress and speed and rioting awesomeness.

This song is crazy, it’s epic, and it’s so much fun.  Just like everything Demetori does.

#47 – “Beyond” by Lorne Balfe and Hans Zimmer

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wy0hyCx25w0

When people describe something which is “epic,” they are referring to scope and magnitude.  If something is epic, it is of great consequence, usually world-altering in nature, involving hundreds, if not thousands, millions, or billions of moving pieces.

If I were to describe “Beyond” in any two words, it would be as the spiritual incarnation of “epic sorrow.”  This is the dirge which follows a long, hard-fought battle, and things did not turn out well.  As the siren-like strings slowly crescendo, they build into a drop which plunges your heart into your feet.  This song is the sound of hope dying, as all the world weeps.  It, and the game it comes from (Beyond: Two Souls) were the original seed from which my own story, “Doubting Puppet,” was founded.

#48 – “Between Worlds” by Roger Subirana Mata

I’m sorry the world is not what it should be—that the crack in your chest has held on despite all these years of trying to make it go away. I’m sorry people are not always patient, not always kind. I’m sorry that sometimes neither am I. I’m sorry you’ve lost friends, in however way that might have happened. Tragedy is not always necessary in losing someone important. I’m sorry your heart doesn’t always feel big enough or strong enough.  I’m sorry your mind doesn’t always feel as though it can persist through the gales of stress which blow your way.

I’m sorry people don’t understand, can’t understand, or won’t understand.  Please forgive them.  Please forgive yourself, because you know sometimes it’s hard for you to understand, too.  That’s not your fault, it’s just the way of things.  We do the best with what we have, and as long as you are doing all you can, no fault can be justly held against you.

#49 – “Farewell, Life” by Arn Andersson & Nights Amore

One of the saddest songs I know.  Dangerously sad.  It should not be consumed without caution, and definitely not over an extended period of time.  Beneath the heartbreaking rhythm, a seduction is taking place, a parasitic spirit of hurt which will slowly drain you of vitality if you’re not careful, and lead you into thoughts of obliteration, however hypothetical.  That said, it is beautiful.  The ocean in a grey morning, not a stir to be seen, despite the cool gust tossing your hair.  Froth on the rocks.  A quiet harbor town.

“Farewell, Life,” is a deathbed anthem.  It’s what plays in the miasma of the spiritual plane when one of our own passes over, eyes clicking shut for the last time.  Songs like this are important.  They help us remember death isn’t necessarily bad or scary.  But it is significant, and should never be forgotten.

#50 – “Super Saiyan 3” by Bruce Faulconer

80’s Hair-metal ain’t got nothin’ on this. ^^^

There is a special place in my nerdy heart for many of the Super Saiyan themes.  This one is arguably my favorite (there was much internal debating).  Where the theme from Goku’s original ascension carried with it the sound of a legend being born—mystical and slow—and Gohan’s theme from reaching Super Saiyan 2 showed him surpass his father—chilling and violent—the Super Saiyan 3 Theme is something else entirely.  In Goku’s own meme-ified words, it is “to go even further beyond.”

This is the song of the ultimate hero, one who has found the final ceiling of their own potential, and somehow managed to push through it.  When the heroes of Dragon Ball Z first reached Super Saiyan, they were quick to realize there was something beyond it, a perfected form.  Super Saiyan 2 was achieved: the natural end to their evolution.  But Goku, he invented a level beyond that, something he and only he had ever done.

Super Saiyan 3 was an impossibility, creating one’s own reality from just being that awesome.  While the transformation in-series had the least emotional build-up and impact, it was no doubt memorable for its sheer confidence.  This song helped craft that feeling, make it whole, and cemented Goku, for better or worse, as one of the coolest shonen protagonists of all time.  So it would be fitting to make his ascension to SS3 the bookend to this immense list.

Thank you for reading.  I hope you found at least one song you enjoyed.

Top 50 Instrumental Songs (Part 2/5)

This is the second in a five-part series to be released daily, in which I unpack my favorite instrumental songs in the history of, well, ever. Narrowing this list down was obviously difficult. There were four “waves” needed to thin out the contestants from my library of thousands, and once we got below one-hundred it was like pulling teeth.

Yet, I stayed true to my original goal of fifty, for my own sake, and not compromise that number. I wanted to know for myself what I believed were my favorites among the gallery of songs I so dearly love.  This following list is the conclusion of those struggles.  They are not in order.  Simply getting a pool of them was hard enough.  I do wish to leave with my sanity.

Many are favored because of their execution and style, while others, because of a particular attachment or association they have with my personal life.  With each entry will be a short blurb, explaining why it belongs. And for a disclaimer: if I couldn’t understand what language they were singing in, I considered the vocals as their own independent instruments, and thus things like Gregorian chants do not disqualify songs from being “instrumentals.”

Enjoy.


#11 – “Tsuisou” by Ooshima Michiru

While I hold the standing opinion that Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood has the better overall soundtrack, the original series has this single trump card over it.  “Tsuisou” is one of the most romantically bucolic songs I can think of. This is a “we are on a long road” sort of adventure, which understands life without the need for questions.  The slow progression from one landmark to the next, enjoying the fundamental nature of the journey along the way.  It also makes me feel nostalgic for a childhood unfulfilled, in a fantastically alternate version of our own world. Listen, and depart.

#12 – “Dragon Rises” by Hiroyuki Sawano

(I told you to get used to that name. This won’t be the last time Sawano shows up on the list.)

Listen to this song. Now listen again, except imagine it as the theme of some really intense medical drama.  Kinda fits, doesn’t it?  It is from a medical drama.  Thanks, Japan.  The violins sound like an alarm, or an ambulance siren.  The shouting which fades-in half way through the song represents the tense degrees of emergency we so often see in those kinds of settings, with medical professionals relaying information in strict, punctual accuracy.  I can’t help but see an epic montage a la Death Note (unrelated series, but if you’re familiar, you know what I mean) in which a team is prepping and executing surgery.  The pace is made breakneck by its quick-cutting back and forth between images: filling a syringe, creating an incision, asking for varied medical tools, wiping sweat off the brow.  It’s just so, so awesome.  And just to clarify, this isn’t from an anime.  Japan makes their own television series too, you know.

#13 – “The Burning Bush” by Hans Zimmer

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QsKuotiv7LA

As you might have gathered from the title, this song is a direct reference to the God of the Bible, who spoke to Moses through a bush which had been set aflame, yet did not burn.  More specifically, this is from the epic and wonderfully-crafted animated film, The Prince of Egypt.  Let this song empty your mind, and top you off with wonder.  In my mind, this is what God is supposed to sound like, if humanity could do our best of capturing such an unfathomable essence.  This is God without the inevitable bullcrap we inject into our perceptions of him.  This is God, unhindered by us.  It moves, it captures, it rises.  And then it explodes into overpowering, all-consuming might after about two minutes, very briefly, just enough for you to know this is God, an entity of insurmountable power, before it pulls back into something tender and welcoming: a father, resting a reassuring hand on your head when you feel you’ve gone too far.  A father in armor, inviting your enemies who feel they’ve bested you, to take a crack at him instead.

#14 – “Opening Stage: Vile” by Undetermined (from Megaman: Maverick Hunter X)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xEv3lW5PGWk

Perhaps the first video game character to ever inspire fear and a personal grudge in my heart, Vile of the Mega Man X franchise has a theme befitting his lethality.  Never before had I encountered an enemy in a video game which was literally unbeatable—who was supposed to defeat you.  I remember the first time I faced him, and the frustration I felt.  He’s the very first boss, and he’s ruthless in how he toys with you, bludgeoning you while you sit there struggling, because this is so unfair, what am I supposed to do?  It was David and Goliath, but as it would be without divine intervention.

Eventually salvation comes in the form of your comrade and savior, Zero.  Zero is awesome, and way stronger than you are, but even he only manages to force Vile into casual retreat.  Later, once Mega Man (you) has overcome many new obstacles and augmented yourself in a dozen different ways, you hunt down Vile, who has by this point battled and enslaved Zero.  You fly in, ready to set the record straight.

And he’s still too powerful.  You can’t even dent his impenetrable armor.  Nothing has changed, you haven’t gotten stronger at all, and your best isn’t good enough.  In a final, desperate gambit, Zero sacrifices himself in an attempt to obliterate Vile once and for all.  This, too, fails.  Zero’s sacrifice does shed Vile’s second layer of shielding and armor, but this is mostly just an inconvenience.  It will have to be enough.  Vile is no longer invincible.  He’s still stronger, better, faster, and more confident in his ability than you are, but Zero has given you a chance.  It is one of the hardest battles in the game, and insanely rewarding when, after an inevitable try-fail cycle where you suffer defeat at his hands over and over, you finally put him in the ground.

A demon clad in metal, Vile’s personality and corruption are captured in the beast-like guitar riffs which scream and slaughter their way through his song.  They carry the same distortion found in most Mega Man X music, but still manage to be uniquely recognizable as belonging to his character.  It is a simple track, and does not last long before looping, but my god if it doesn’t do a good job of punctuating just how traitorous and superior Vile is seen to be.

#15 – “Osiris” by Valentin Wiest

In my head canon, I call this the “wedding song,” which might not be immediately apparent upon listening.  Let’s put it this way, in an ideal and highly unlikely world, this is the song which would play when my eventual bride walks down the aisle.  More specifically, it would play out like this:

We’d have to use an edited cut, otherwise it’d be too long, but the wedding party would start to approach the stage, slowly (so we can hear the song of course, as that’s clearly the most important part), around 2:40.  As they fill in the altar and all appropriate individuals take their seats, we allow the song to bleed into the violins and chants for a little bit.  Anticipation builds.  The walls begin to whisper their excitement.  Hushed conversation floats beneath the orchestra.

Then it happens.  Four minutes in, everybody stands to welcome the bride, and boom, 4:05, she makes her way down the aisle.  The world bends around her and time surrenders.  

I cannot tell you how many times I’ve played this out in my mind.  I get chills just thinking about it.

#16 – “Lit” by Kensuki Ushio

“I’m deaf.” 

While I enjoyed the original version of this song and its function within the film A Silent Voice, I am particularly enthralled by this piano rendition of the song by Youtube creator PianoPrinceofAnime.  PianoPrince takes the inherent beauty and simplicity of the original track and transfuses it with an extra layer of emotion and majesty. The added cello gave the final product some much needed synergy which was missing from the original track.  While this cover stands on its own, I admit part of my admiration is rooted in the source material, which inspired me to start learning some American Sign Language, as well as piano, as a result of its influence. 

#17 – “Gourmet Race” by Jun Ishikawa & Dan Miyakawa

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FAByWyvuu7s

No matter its incarnation (of which I love many), “Gourmet Race” never fails to get the heart pumping.  In its original context, Kirby is in a mighty dash against King Dedede through a treacherous obstacle course.  The original song maintains a lot of the retro charm of the 90’s, and the sound often associated with Kirby games in general.  In its inevitable hundreds of covers and remixes which have since spawned from its popularity, I have several favorites, especially the rendition found in Super Smash Bros. Brawl, an a capella, a dubstep, and an epic metal version.  I love this song for its duality of adrenaline and pop-fantastical qualities (the latter being aforementioned characteristic of Kirby soundtracks).  “Gourmet Race” could be appropriately labelled a “light-hearted battle to the death,” being both incredibly fierce, yet undeniably upbeat in style.

#18 – “Kiss the Rain” by Yiruma

If somebody asked me to present a song which captured the essence of ‘healing,’ I’d be hard-pressed to choose anything other than Yiruma’s masterful “Kiss the Rain.”  It generates its own imagery and has its own beating heart.  The human soul is rarely captured so purely, least of all by a single piano.  That piano strips away your walls, your infection, leaving you vulnerable and clean, ready to start again.

#19 – “Sadness & Sorrow” by Toshiro Masuda

Oh my god, the feels this song has made me feel. I distinctly remember the first time I heard “Sadness & Sorrow.” I was watching the first arc of Naruto, which I’d recorded on VHS in 7th grade.  When the deepest narrative I’d seen in my young life to that point took the form of Teen Titans, this song, and the scene of Sasuke ostensibly dying in Naruto’s arms…well, it took my standards to a new level.  This song forged that scene into something excellent, and gave birth to my love for that entire series, which now stands atop my pantheon of pop-culture familiarities as the reigning king.

This is that addicting kind of sadness.  It is works like this which made me crave to learn piano.

#20 – “You Say Run/Jet Set Run” by Yuki Hayashi

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L-eTG3pDXbo

*Deep breath*

BOOOOOIIIIIIII THIS SONG.

The national motto of Spain is “Plus Ultra” or “further beyond.”  We can give more, do more, be more—our limitations are what we make of them.  “You Say Run” is a song I’ve probably heard no less than 500 times in the last year and a half since first discovery, and my god does it go plus ultra.  It is the most memorable track from the sensational new anime My Hero Academia, and has played no small hand in its meteoric growth in the industry.  Championed by one of my favorite new composers (the same brilliant mind as behind the Haikyuu! soundtrack, which isn’t on this top 50 list, killing my soul a little), this song is a whirlwind of heroic energy.  Seriously, do you feel like a single thing in the entire universe could stand in your way?

Didn’t think so.  You could probably flip a tractor-trailer.  Go try it.  I’ll wait.

Not only is this song noteworthy in its own stature, but the musical director of My Hero Academia uses it marvelously to punctuate scenes and moments with the precision and lethality of a sniper rifle.  As soon as that echoing note fades in, you know something insane is about to go down, and with each successive hearing of the song, it builds momentum from the last, until you inevitably have it on repeat.  You want it as the background of your life.

You want to be a hero, too.