For many fans, the enchantment of the gaming world started with the Zelda series, specifically in 1991 with A Link to the Past on the SNES. This was the era when games and gaming consoles were becoming a cultural phenomenon. The series carved out a niche in the action-adventure genre that has become cemented in many gamers’ hearts. I was completely taken in by the colorful, dangerous, and magical world that Link journeyed through. Not only did I spend countless hours playing this game back then, but I was also allowed time by myself to truly fall into another world and live the incredible story that I was in control of. Even then, I firmly believed the series was mine.
The iconic Zelda theme was the first to greet me as I picked up the SNES controller. This was to be my very first time playing a video game—my virtual “virginity,” if you will—and the title screen seemed simply an invitation to step inside and see what was in store. The game starts with your character, a young boy named Link, waking on a stormy night to a message from the imprisoned Princess Zelda. As soon as I stepped outside Link’s house and into the world, the game grabbed me. I can still feel the excitement of what happened afterward: the stormy start, the stealthy entry into the uncle’s underground pass, the sword-fight with the foe, and the rescue of the princess, disguised as a prison guard.
Pulling Link through the dark, damp world to save Princess Zelda from the clutches of Ganondorf hardly even seems like a North American video game. We (North American players) are typically more into straight lines and clear ideas of what is right and wrong. This is not to say that Zelda is some avant-garde game that sends mixed messages about right and wrong, but rather that you need to drop yourself into the mind of the young boy named Link. You seek to pull off what he pulls off, to save the girl that he has a couple of puppy-love eyes for.
A Link to the Past is an action-adventure game that is defined by its perfect combination of fighting, puzzle-solving, and exploring. The game’s dungeons are meticulously designed labyrinths that are filled with enemies and traps. Their structural brilliance beckons players to best more of the game than just the final boss and find all of the secret stuff stashed away by the game’s designers in what might otherwise seem like innocuous corners. With every enemy I vanquished, every heart piece I found, every bug I squished, I was in on the game’s secret pact with me to ensure that I would play as deeply and as often as possible to get the most out of it.
The plot of the game is simple by today’s standards, but it is nonetheless extremely captivating and beyond charming. It’s a tale of a hero named Link who is on a mission to rescue a princess that goes by the name Zelda, as well as defeat an evil sorcerer known as Agahnim. Once you think that’s the story, it becomes way more interesting. You soon find out that Hyrule and Ganon are connected by a twisted plot, where the only way to save everything is through the world of a metaphorical alter ego. And along the way, you’re given a Master Sword.
The music from A Link to the Past is what struck me the most. It felt like it did more than just act as background space filler. Of course, its first mission was to enhance the storytelling aspect of the game, which it did beautifully. But that’s not what my eight-year-old self cared about. The feelings that the soundtrack evoked and the music’s ability to super glue those melodies to my memories meant that whenever my mind roamed to Hyrule, Kondo’s sensational score was by my side. Carefully listened to, The Lave Cave theme firing off the game, seems to me a near-miss of genius.
A Link to the Past was visually stunning. The game’s bright colors and meticulous detail allowed the world of Hyrule to come alive in a way it simply couldn’t in the original NES title. Each character, enemy, and environment was painstakingly crafted in order to create not just a simple, vibrant world, but one that allowed the player to become a true part of the game’s story. The simple but dynamic contrast of the Light World (the green fields and blue skies work we know from the original Legend of Zelda) and the Dark World (the subterranean caves and fiery chasms) created a clear narrative thread.
I can still see myself investing large amounts of time exploring every corner of Hyrule. I was astounded and wondered at the purity of imagination the designers must have had. The landscape of the ’80s video game version of the 1890s was giddying in a way that the work of an army of Lord Badens (except with primitive pixels), as might be expected, tends to be. By the mid-’90s, Zelda’s developers were at the peak of their prowess. Should you marvel at a peak, or simply explore and enjoy its foothills and long, broad pathways up?
The rich combination of visual and auditory in the game was almost perfect and was truly an example of a game that was ahead of its time. One could even call it “revolutionary” because it signaled a significant shift in what games were becoming. But The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past’s key that helps explain why it was entirely engrossing to players of any age was its mixture of scale and sheer amount of things to do. Before there was an open-world game, there was A Link to the Past in all its top-down goodness.
A Link to the Past has had an enormous influence on the industry of video games. It set a precedent for the action-adventure game genre and influenced a multitude of games that came after it. What it has given the industry, in terms of innovative mechanics, gameplay, and the world, is immeasurable. And the inspiration it gives those in the industry seems like it will have a life that won’t ever end. Even after its creators are long gone.
The game that really kindled my ardor for video games was The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past. It demonstrated the storytelling power of the video game medium. And what a story it told! Every teenage gamer’s fantasy, in essence. Mine, too. A fairy tale. A dark world of magic whose clutches I felt; a truly drawn-in experience. My love for Nintendo was well-established by the time I finished this title.
The influence of the game is apparent in many modern games. Titles like The Elder Scrolls, Dark Souls, and The Witcher series owe A Link to the Past for its great contributions to the action-adventure genre. It is a game that emphasizes exploration, puzzle-solving, and a gameplay-driven narrative—three things that the first game did well. Its emphasis on these three gameplay elements has become a staple in the action-adventure genre.
The game’s legacy is felt profoundly in the Zelda series. This is because A Link to the Past is the primordial ooze from which the key Zelda gameplay evolved – a revolution in its day that led to a renaissance in the action-adventure genre. It sounds like I’m exaggerating, but it’s really not something to brush off. A Link to the Past is more or less the first modern Zelda game, and we’re still playing in the world it created when we enjoy those that pass themselves off as its successors.
A Link to the Past is, even now, a well-regarded and much-loved classic. Both longtime series fans like myself and new players hold the game close to their hearts. And I think the reason why is very simple: A Link to the Past is an expertly crafted game. It has a very quick and snappy feel to it that just was not there with the original NES game, it has far more items for Link to use, it gives the player ample opportunity to explore both the Light and Dark Worlds, and it is, quite simply, a very fun game to play.
Looking back at my time with A Link to the Past, I’m swamped by this really touching cocktail of nostalgia and appreciation. The game came about in my very early years—I was at a point where I wasn’t totally clear on what my hands were doing half the time (let alone that what I was doing had any real effect on the world), but I was compelled all the same to perform these simple, magical-seeming tasks. In a dangerous, unknowable fantasy world, no less! My buddy and I shared the same dough-eyed affection for the primitive, blew-on-it-to-make-it-work technology that allowed us to experience the game.
My favorite memory is the notorious Water Temple. Like many, I have my tale of woe and success, but to me, it was more than that. It was a test. If you could solve the Water Temple while still enjoying the game, you had achieved something, but if you were ready to throw your controller or your system out the window by the time you were done—assuming you ever finished—that was an entirely human and natural reaction too. The reward in the end was more than the satisfaction of reaching an ordinary boss and defeating it; this was a testament to the game’s power to create frustratingly victorious moments, with the player pulling it off using wits and patience.
My most treasured recollection is of the satisfying day that I first finished the game. The climactic fight between Link and Ganon was a whole event in itself — a duel whose outcome hung in the dangerous balance. I had all of my energy sucked into the game and the fight, and when the outcome emerged in my favor, I felt like I had been reborn and had become something of a formless force.
The thing I treasure most was the feeling I had at the end: I have finished yet another action game. It was an “I did it!” moment that accentuated a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment.
Playing A Link to the Past did more than offer a solitary, virtual adventure—it also gave us a shared life. We discussed the game with friends from our neighborhood. We came together in that time and way that kids do and debated (healthily) strategies for a boss we couldn’t outsmart or the myriad items we collectively (for we couldn’t) couldn’t locate. We stood shoulder to video-screen shoulder and defended (if not always mastered) the virtual life we were living and the real relationships we were forming.
Countless times as an adult, I’ve returned to A Link to the Past. Each run-through provokes an intensely satisfying hit of nostalgia and allows me to remember why it was that I first came to hold video games so dear. The title remains a standout in the medium to this day, each aspect of its design as enjoyable as ever. In this, the brilliance of the teams at Nintendo, and their creation of a title of such extraordinary quality and absolutely no expiration date, the entire experience remains a complete joy to undertake.
In sum, The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past is far more than a game. It’s a trip—a wondrous, sometimes even mystical, trip—that has left a monumental impact not only on the history of my own life but on the history of the lives of countless others. It’s a trip that’s likely to last for quite a while longer. It’s a trip that’s just plain fun to take. But more important than that, it’s a trip that’s left an indelible impression on me, one of pure joy, the kind impossible to mistake for anything else. I am certain it will do the same for you or anyone else for that matter.
