Always Princess Peach

When you’re in a world populated by sentient mushrooms or a flute that can change the direction of the wind, it seems silly to be constrained by boring gender norms. But unfortunately, that’s often the case in popular video game franchises, which continually rely on the perennially male hero.  

Earlier this week, a father hacked “Donkey Kong” for his young daughter, who was annoyed that the only option in the game was for Mario to rescue Pauline. He created a game option for Pauline to rescue Mario instead.  

There have been other stories like this in the past few months, including an almost identical one in which a dad hacked “The Legend of Zelda: Wind Walker” for his daughter and made the main character, Link, a girl.

These stories of reversed video game gender stereotypes have drawn attention from gamers and non-gamers alike, due to the altering of several franchises that have largely been set in stone since their creation.

Of course, it isn’t necessary for a protagonist in a video game to share the gender of a player, and video game protagonists can have very definite, intricately created backstories that are implicitly tied to their gender.

But often, these video game protagonists act more like blank slates, serving as the always silent, always stoic and always male heroes.

This is further complicated by the near constant presence of beautifully, easily victimized young women who hang around the male hero.

It’s not uncommon that the rescue of these beauties is the central conflict in a video game, such as Mario’s endless pursuit of Princess Peach, the most famous video game damsel oft kidnapped.

In so many video games, women act as nothing more than the red herring, the justification for the hero’s own experience. They are not seen after an initial introduction, or they are offered in deliberately tantalizing snippets.

They represent an end goal for the male protagonist, a reason for his story to exist.

The rescue of these women often has more to do with the hero’s own masculine ego than the safety or experiences of the damsel and the villain in these games tends to represent the most bestial and base of opponents, often a large, aggressive animal with a lascivious streak.

Women in video games are often something to be gained rather than someone to be, and it’s difficult to deny that this lesson about the role of women can have a lasting impact on the young boys and girls who play these games.

Not all video games engage in this stereotyping, and the ones that do are not necessarily wholly negative. There are an increasing number of games that offer compelling female or customizable characters.

Younger video game players continually rely on the Nintendo franchise to provide age appropriate games, but this doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be cognizant of the effects video games have on young people’s conceptions of gender roles.

Franchises such as Mario and the Legend of Zelda are classics for a reason — they’re great games. But it’s important that we keep encouraging diversity in video games, so that everyone who engages in these stories can reasonably expect the girl to sometimes be the hero, too.

­— gwinslow@indiana.edu