Secret of Mana
Crazy One-Shot #2
Type of Game
A legend (of mana) who introduced a lot of European kids to Japanese RPGs. All it taught me was to hate rabbits.
Release date on our machines
November 1994, almost a year and a half after the Japanese version. Pure torture at this stage.
Developer
Square Co. Ltd. the soon-to-be new favourite company of gamers from all over Generation Y.
Publisher
Square Co. Ltd. just like the developer. What could be more beautiful than such creative freedom?
Secret of Mana : available on the Google Play Store, l'Apple Store, the Switch (in the Collection of Mana compilation), and the Super NES mini, yeeeeaaaaah !
My first contact with this game can be summed up more or less by the total experience I had with it. I only played it once at a primary school friend's house. I don't know why I went to sleep at his place, when I'd spoken to him twice and we were half avoiding each other on the same tennis class. But thanks to him for inviting me! Jesse Bidonville, who didn't live in a slum at all, but in a pretty posh shack, had a room that was the size of my whole flat. I probably played Secret of Mana at my cousin Walter's too, as he had all the games in the world, although I don't remember seeing any RPGs running on his Super NES. However, if those few hours of gameplay under Jesse's direction remain so vivid in my head today, it's because I took one of the biggest virtual slaps in the face. Leaving aside those pesky rabbits, of course.
Rabbit bellows
What is a JAyPORG?
I idealised Secret of Mana, I worshipped it, it represented the archetypal fantasy game because it only existed on the Super NES, a console I didn't own. During those privileged moments when I had access to that little grey machine, I discovered Nintendo's 16-bit games library, between its priceless treasures and its slightly less stylish stuff, but which I held in high esteem in all cases. As for Secret of Mana, I loved it so much that I told everyone I'd played the best game of my life. I'd pretend I knew the title by heart, screaming masterpiece, when in fact I hadn't seen beyond the first 10%. Who hasn't misrepresented things a bit in order to shine in society, eh? I was doing it to make myself more interesting than I really was. Lier but lucid, that kid.
If I'd spent more time on it, would I have praised it any less? Probably not, given the critical acclaim it received. The three-quarter real-time isometric fighting gameplay helped me appreciate it, too. And the conversations between our little characters, and the variety of enemies, and the magic, and the experience system... if I discovered Western RPGs with Warriors of the Eternal Sun, I was discovering Japanese RPGs with Secret of Mana. It looked a lot better! Does that mean I've made up for my shortcomings? Well, no; they've only got worse with the passage of time. Maybe I was too scared of finding those bloody mad rabbits in every JRPG I came across.
Enchanting landscapes
The atmosphere of the first twenty minutes of the game, the only ones I can identify with, I find simply mythical. The enchanted forest, the village, the... the waterfall? I don't think I've explored much further than the dwarves' cave, when we pick up the girl with the pigtails. OK, a little over twenty minutes' journey, alright. It seems so, but I'm not sure... Shit! Anyway, if sophrology, art therapy and acupuncture work, I think I can firmly declare that this game offers medicinal virtues. I was totally captivated by the beauty of the scenery. It looked so much nicer than anything I'd seen on Mega Drive! Not only the sprites, but also the colors, animations and lighting effects. You could easily project images of Secret of Mana onto the walls of a bedroom to help a child fall asleep, and it would work much better than a nightlight in the shape of an animal.
Especially in the shape of a rabbit, damn it! There are no worse horrors than rabbits! Thanks to this great ambience, I loved this game like no other. And I'd shake my head with a tense smile when someone told me about such and such a super-tough boss to defeat, far beyond where I'd ever been. I'd pretend not to remember how I'd beaten him, hoping not to blush with shame. Yet there were quite a few games I'd only touched for a few minutes. Many of them made a strong impression on me. But not a single one transported me even half as much as Secret of Mana. I'll probably contradict myself later in a dozen articles or so, but let's just pretend for now.
The famous forest theme
With a total playing time of no more than two hours, including a couple of restarts, the music from the first few levels was bound to have an advantage over the others. Especially the one at the very beginning, but why do I revere it more than anything else? Well, because it's a sick, crazy tune, what else? If I had to take just one piece of video game O.S.T. to a desert island (with a little usb port sticking out of the sand to recharge the phone), I wouldn't hesitate long before choosing Into the Thick of It, the famous forest theme that serves as a tutorial. Well, maybe we hear it later, but what do I know? Are there more rabbits to shoot later too? I hope not! In any case, this track made me think: “The Super NES, can it really produce such magnificent sounds? So mental!” How did Hiroki Kikuta do it? Like Yuzo Koshiro with Streets of Rage? By coupling I don't know how many samplers to the console? Did I like this track because I already had a weakness for compositions that manage to soothe, make you happy, make you melancholic, and even tear out a few tears (of happiness and sadness at the same time)? Or is this the song that got me hooked on pretty forest melodies? Yeah, I've noticed that in a lot of games, the forests get the best jingle. Anybody having an opposite opinion? Anyone? Argue? What? Don't know that word.
Secret of Miracle
Because of my short experience, the famous evening at my mate's house will remain an indelible memory; the kind of moment touched by the grace of Mother Nature, which makes nostalgia one of the most precious feelings of Gaia our nourishing earth. Magnificent statement, isn't it? Yeah, no, I broke down, all right. Well, I'll repeat the same thing, but with less Sinsemilia and a little more... er, say Midnight Oil. In other words, this trip to Jesse Bidonville's belongs in my top 3 all-time childhood memories. The expression “all-time childhood memories” making no sense whatsoever. A particularly magical vibe made that night archly incredible. The guy's room was three times bigger than mine, and much more toy-filled on top of that, the overflowing inspiration that took us in between console sessions and drove us to draw...
