April 1, 2009
I owe props to that guy, in large part, for this necessary addendum:
It was argued by that gentleman that the misogyny presented—insofar as the female characters are not “action-oriented”, as I said, with the implication that “action” referred to taking an active role in the turmoil, rather than, for example, in Jasmine’s case just being dropped into a jar and kidnapped—was not so much a failure on the game’s part, but on the settings from which they, in their original movies, are derived: Belle cannot be action-oriented because she existed in a French era of powerless women, for example (and most of the Princesses, all of them, in fact [excepting Kairi] are products of less-feminist time periods, of course). I take issue with this particularly with Jasmine, who was presented originally as action-oriented, running away from the palace and so forth, but for the sake of continuity I’ll exempt her from the discussion at hand.
Kairi is, of course, the only original Princess, a unique character derived solely from the game’s own world. Because she is the most modern Princess, she is necessarily a summation of the traditions and regal incarnations before her—she is the most important Princess to the plot, because she represents the Kingdom Hearts world as a whole, rather than a single Disney plane. The result is that her actions, in the absence of input from the other women, represent all seven: she is their leader, their summation, their representative to the uniquely Kingdom Hearts hero, Sora. When she acts in a traditionally feminine, nurturing role by hugging Sora, and inadvertently reviving him, she acts on behalf of all the Princesses at once. Thus, what power can one expect the other Princesses to hold if their quintessential model curtails her abilities to there?
I failed to mention this as well in my original post: Given that Final Fantasy mythos plays heavily not setting-wise into the game (for the Final Fantasy games themselves involve players in their worlds—Disney simply does not), there are subtle nuances inserted to make the game identifiable as a Square game that fits in with Final Fantasy meta-canon (as the games themselves lack any continuity—but there’s essentially an expanded universe; the proof for this does not belong here, but it is certainly not the first example of meta-canon and an expanded universe…Marvel and DC both have their own, just off the top of my head). Sora’s ridiculous anime-hair recalls Tidus, Cloud, and even Fighter; the mechanics of the leveling, money-gathering, and HP/MP systems are familiar (despite the existance of balls, rather than purely metaphorical points); there is a Fighter, Mage, and Support character in the party; all the magic spells and most of the items are directly torn from other Final Fantasy games. One recurring object, used as a MacGuffin in most iterations throughout not just Square games, but countless fantasy games (as well as fantasy stories all over the place), is the Crystal—a mystical item, usually with some untapped power that will unleash someone’s inner strength, or open a gate to hell, or something to that effect. The Final Fantasy series, of course, utilizes the object to almost no end. An eerie parallel exists in Kingdom Hearts: what mysterious object, used solely as a plot motivator, existing to open a portal to darkness is central to the game’s plot? Right—the Princesses! The goddamn Princesses could easily be substituted by an inane, shiny fucking rock!
And there is something inherently insulting about a character that can be replaced with an enigmatic, inanimate object.
It all rests on Kairi’s shoulders, too—had the game played out that, when she grabbed Sora as a shadow, his Keyblade mastery was transferred to her and she drove away all the monsters herself, I would concede my entire analysis to her character being empowered to control not only her own destiny, but everyone else’s as well. I would admit to my dear friend that the other Princesses were necessarily products of their oppresive time periods, but that Kairi rose up to demonstrate the destiny-wielding power she, being their summation, holds, and as a result of her strengthening, the other Princesses are awakened to an influential power previously unheard of. Additionally, I could rant for hours about why the Keyblade was transferred to her, and how, and what that meant for the collective feminine strength present—but alas, no such sequence happened. All she did was hug and cry out, and Sora appeared to save her, leaving the other Princesses nothing more than woman-shaped crystals on the walls.
It’s also worth mentioning that Riku’s Keyblade, the one Sora commits seppuku with, was itself created out of the Princess’s hearts. This Keyblade, Riku explains, can unlock people’s hearts—essentially, all the Princesses collectively can do is open gates to darkness, and coax what are practically souls out of people’s hearts. The revolting notion is furthered when, after the battle within the opened portal subsides, Sleeping Beauty (apparently, Aurora is her name?) remarks that she was awed by the power their hearts possessed, to open that gate. Is that the only power that has any meaning? Does not their feminine autonomy constitute an important force itself? Why are they not furious at themselves and at their oppressors for being static pawns for an otherwise male cast?
I just don’t understand.
I’d like to slip this in as well: recently, especially today, I’ve been getting closer and closer to understanding Postmodernism at a well-defined level, and being able to apply at least basic deconstruction processes to various works. Lamentably, my ability has not extended to such complex new media such as video games—I can look at how the game deconstructs the Light-Dark:Good-Evil binaries, but I cannot deconstruct the text of the game further (at least not very much). I recognize now that, perhaps, my arguments lack a certain clarity regarding the concept of “Power”, and that, depending the many different interpretations, my analyses become radically different. Furthermore, as a close friend of mine has pointed out, I have only the text of the game to work with as it is presented—I have done no close reading on, say, the script itself, or any of the developmental procedures, which severely hinders my ability to properly approach the game holistically and fairly from a proper Postmodernist standpoint. Being that the game obviously employs many Postmodern theories and methodologies, it is a grave injustice that I myself do not command anywhere near the proper faculties to look at this game from a complete enough spectrum of attitudes and analytic lenses, at least at this point in time. For that, I apologize sincerely—ignorance is not an excuse, least of all for sloppiness or laziness. I’m sure my arguments will change once I read up on Foucault, and his conceptions of Power; lamentably, I will most likely have moved on to another game by then. If I do not return to Kingdom Hearts specifically, bear in mind much work still begs to be done, and that this is only the roughest of rough drafts for the vast work I have before me.
I hope you’ll grant me enough faith to carry it out fully, properly, and eloquently.

I owe props to that guy, in large part, for this necessary addendum:

It was argued by that gentleman that the misogyny presented—insofar as the female characters are not “action-oriented”, as I said, with the implication that “action” referred to taking an active role in the turmoil, rather than, for example, in Jasmine’s case just being dropped into a jar and kidnapped—was not so much a failure on the game’s part, but on the settings from which they, in their original movies, are derived: Belle cannot be action-oriented because she existed in a French era of powerless women, for example (and most of the Princesses, all of them, in fact [excepting Kairi] are products of less-feminist time periods, of course). I take issue with this particularly with Jasmine, who was presented originally as action-oriented, running away from the palace and so forth, but for the sake of continuity I’ll exempt her from the discussion at hand.

Kairi is, of course, the only original Princess, a unique character derived solely from the game’s own world. Because she is the most modern Princess, she is necessarily a summation of the traditions and regal incarnations before her—she is the most important Princess to the plot, because she represents the Kingdom Hearts world as a whole, rather than a single Disney plane. The result is that her actions, in the absence of input from the other women, represent all seven: she is their leader, their summation, their representative to the uniquely Kingdom Hearts hero, Sora. When she acts in a traditionally feminine, nurturing role by hugging Sora, and inadvertently reviving him, she acts on behalf of all the Princesses at once. Thus, what power can one expect the other Princesses to hold if their quintessential model curtails her abilities to there?

I failed to mention this as well in my original post: Given that Final Fantasy mythos plays heavily not setting-wise into the game (for the Final Fantasy games themselves involve players in their worlds—Disney simply does not), there are subtle nuances inserted to make the game identifiable as a Square game that fits in with Final Fantasy meta-canon (as the games themselves lack any continuity—but there’s essentially an expanded universe; the proof for this does not belong here, but it is certainly not the first example of meta-canon and an expanded universe…Marvel and DC both have their own, just off the top of my head). Sora’s ridiculous anime-hair recalls Tidus, Cloud, and even Fighter; the mechanics of the leveling, money-gathering, and HP/MP systems are familiar (despite the existance of balls, rather than purely metaphorical points); there is a Fighter, Mage, and Support character in the party; all the magic spells and most of the items are directly torn from other Final Fantasy games. One recurring object, used as a MacGuffin in most iterations throughout not just Square games, but countless fantasy games (as well as fantasy stories all over the place), is the Crystal—a mystical item, usually with some untapped power that will unleash someone’s inner strength, or open a gate to hell, or something to that effect. The Final Fantasy series, of course, utilizes the object to almost no end. An eerie parallel exists in Kingdom Hearts: what mysterious object, used solely as a plot motivator, existing to open a portal to darkness is central to the game’s plot? Right—the Princesses! The goddamn Princesses could easily be substituted by an inane, shiny fucking rock!

And there is something inherently insulting about a character that can be replaced with an enigmatic, inanimate object.

It all rests on Kairi’s shoulders, too—had the game played out that, when she grabbed Sora as a shadow, his Keyblade mastery was transferred to her and she drove away all the monsters herself, I would concede my entire analysis to her character being empowered to control not only her own destiny, but everyone else’s as well. I would admit to my dear friend that the other Princesses were necessarily products of their oppresive time periods, but that Kairi rose up to demonstrate the destiny-wielding power she, being their summation, holds, and as a result of her strengthening, the other Princesses are awakened to an influential power previously unheard of. Additionally, I could rant for hours about why the Keyblade was transferred to her, and how, and what that meant for the collective feminine strength present—but alas, no such sequence happened. All she did was hug and cry out, and Sora appeared to save her, leaving the other Princesses nothing more than woman-shaped crystals on the walls.

It’s also worth mentioning that Riku’s Keyblade, the one Sora commits seppuku with, was itself created out of the Princess’s hearts. This Keyblade, Riku explains, can unlock people’s hearts—essentially, all the Princesses collectively can do is open gates to darkness, and coax what are practically souls out of people’s hearts. The revolting notion is furthered when, after the battle within the opened portal subsides, Sleeping Beauty (apparently, Aurora is her name?) remarks that she was awed by the power their hearts possessed, to open that gate. Is that the only power that has any meaning? Does not their feminine autonomy constitute an important force itself? Why are they not furious at themselves and at their oppressors for being static pawns for an otherwise male cast?

I just don’t understand.

I’d like to slip this in as well: recently, especially today, I’ve been getting closer and closer to understanding Postmodernism at a well-defined level, and being able to apply at least basic deconstruction processes to various works. Lamentably, my ability has not extended to such complex new media such as video games—I can look at how the game deconstructs the Light-Dark:Good-Evil binaries, but I cannot deconstruct the text of the game further (at least not very much). I recognize now that, perhaps, my arguments lack a certain clarity regarding the concept of “Power”, and that, depending the many different interpretations, my analyses become radically different. Furthermore, as a close friend of mine has pointed out, I have only the text of the game to work with as it is presented—I have done no close reading on, say, the script itself, or any of the developmental procedures, which severely hinders my ability to properly approach the game holistically and fairly from a proper Postmodernist standpoint. Being that the game obviously employs many Postmodern theories and methodologies, it is a grave injustice that I myself do not command anywhere near the proper faculties to look at this game from a complete enough spectrum of attitudes and analytic lenses, at least at this point in time. For that, I apologize sincerely—ignorance is not an excuse, least of all for sloppiness or laziness. I’m sure my arguments will change once I read up on Foucault, and his conceptions of Power; lamentably, I will most likely have moved on to another game by then. If I do not return to Kingdom Hearts specifically, bear in mind much work still begs to be done, and that this is only the roughest of rough drafts for the vast work I have before me.

I hope you’ll grant me enough faith to carry it out fully, properly, and eloquently.