Monster Chasing with Lysh

Video games played a big hand in the development of my media literacy. When I was younger, the general sentiment around video games was that they “rot your brain.” While I agree, too much of anything could be bad for you, my family’s relationship to video games was different. My brother and I began bonding and developing our media literacy skills together as we played video games. Through these conversations, I noticed video game monsters acted as a tool to communicate more complicated concepts and ideas to the player. Thinking critically about video game monsters is the foundation of my media literacy skills as an adult. Here, we will look at three video game monsters that were pivotal in my growth. 

Please note there is a content warning that isn’t limited to the following subject matter: mentions of slavery, torture, child soldiers, and depictions of war/combat (Metal Gear Solid 4 trailer video).  

BANDAI NAMCO’s 2004 role-playing game, Tales of Symphonia, was the first game I remember playing that centered around issues I could connect with real life. Tales of Symphonia covers topics like slavery, racism, poverty, and religion.  

During Tales of Symphonia’s first arc, the player and the party, Lloyd Irving and Genis Sage, meet Marble, a local item shop owner who has been captured and taken as a slave. As the story arc unfolds, the player learns that Genis has developed a familial relationship with Marble. 

As tensions rise at the ranch, the party helps release the humans held captive, Marble being one of them. Unfortunately, during an altercation, Marble’s captors trigger a reaction which causes her to become a monster. This transformation is unbeknownst to both Lloyd and Genis, but the game relies on dramatic irony to evoke an emotional reaction to the player.  

Lloyd and Genis initiate a battle with Monster Marble (still not knowing the monster is Marble), but the player knows the entire time. After the player defeats Monster Marble, the cut scene after the fight shows her sacrificing herself to help Lloyd and Genis escape from her previous captors in the ranch that is imploding. Before the implosion, Marble, still in her monster form, expresses her love for Genis. Unfortunately, Marble’s sacrifice was for naught because her main captor, Forcystus, survives.  

I was nine when I first played Tales of Symphonia with my brother, so heavier topics weren’t completely foreign to me. I was old enough to be learning about slavery and other sensitive topics at school and at home. When I played video games, I felt like I was directly in the story, which is different than simply reading or hearing about hard situations. I remember feeling an empty pit in my chest and feeling as devistated as Lloyd and Genis.  

Experiencing Marble’s story (as well as the rest of Tales of Symphonia) might have been the first time I understood that power imbalances, slavery, and poverty were interconnected. I’ve written a lot about how monster narratives are often a mirror to the real world, and that’s what Marble’s story was for me. Seeing Marble’s free will and body autonomy stolen from her made me begin reflecting on whose will and body get stolen from them in real life. 

Mind you, I wasn’t the smartest child out of the bunch, so these thoughts weren’t as fully formed or understood by me. I may not have had the language to explain every connection I was making or feeling, but experiencing Tales of Symphonia was foundational for my media literacy skills. This is where I began applying the fiction I was interacting with to real life and my lived experiences. 

Nintendo’s 1998 game, The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, was a staple in my household. My brother, mom, and I played it together, and I still replay it every couple years to this day. I have a long history with this game, but it wasn’t until I replayed it in high school that I started reflecting on specific details of the story. 

I often played Ocarina of Time relying on muscle memory because of the amount of replays I had. During high school I told myself to replay it as if it was my first time; I would skip no dialogue and take my time experiencing the entire game. This playthrough was a great experience and allowed me to appreciate the game from a different lens. Up until then, I had only played through the lens of a small child.  

Before I explore the monster in this section, I feel it’s necessary to say my media literacy and ability to analyze and reflect on a text was much better than it was during my experience with Marble. I was internalizing information easier and consistently connecting the media I was interacting with to real life.  

So, the seventh temple, the Shadow Temple, represented the biggest change in my playthrough. Growing up, I had a hard time fully interacting with this temple because of its horror and macabre atmosphere. I would mute my TV and try completing it in as little time as possible. This time was different. 

The Shadow Temple is riddled with monsters, more than any other temple it seemed. But the monster that affected my media literacy the most was the temple’s boss, Bongo Bongo. The Shadow Temple and Bongo Bongo helped me understand that storytelling and important details of any situation aren’t solely in what is directly presented to me. 

Story details are woven throughout the design of the temple, music, and monster design of Bongo Bongo. Little details like bongos being played in the temple’s theme music acts as a subtle foreshadowing of what is to come; Bongo Bongo is always looming. Though, this detail is extremely easy to miss if you’re not paying attention.  

Furthermore, the game isn’t explicit about Bongo Bongo previously being a torture victim of the Hyrule state. This detail isn’t even confirmed by the game. But, analyzing and thinking critically about the temple itself as well as the small amount of backstory given to the player helps support this idea. Bongo Bongo’s lack of clear storytelling forced me to fine tune my attention to detail and my ability to make connections through subtext.  

Lastly, Kojima Productions’ 2008 Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns of the Patriots included a set of monsters that shaped my media literacy and critical thinking skills. Hideo Kojima, founder of Kojima Productions emphasized anti-war sentiments in his games which were harder for me to understand due to their complexity. Sometimes the stories were difficult to follow, but the difficulty didn’t deter me from its content. 

Similar to my post about Cyberpunk: Edgerunners, the video game monsters for Metal Gear Solid 4 are more unconventional. The monsters here are the Beauty and the Beast Unit, or B&B Corp. The unit is comprised of women who were children of war, then were captured and used as war machines. It’s debatable whether they are the real monsters of their respective arcs. Ultimately, I would say no, they aren’t, but for Solid Snake and the player, they are.

Interacting with the B&B Corp. made me more comfortable with engaging with stories I didn’t completely understand. The women’s back stories interested me, so I wanted a better understanding of how they fit into the larger story of Metal Gear Solid 4. The B&B Corp. were easily understood, so they acted as a segue for replayability; their stories were foundational in my understanding of the larger story.

On another hand, the women’s out-of-machine presentation is quite misogynistic. This fact supported a larger development for me. Being interested in a story which had great anti-war sentiments, but also being disgusted with the misogynistic presentation of some of the women confused me. 

I grappled with not loving every detail of a game and being okay with that. Understanding not every story will hit every moral mark supported my studies in the future. English Literature is riddled with men who struggle to write women well. Because of the B&B Corp., I had experience taking useful qualities of a narrative and being critical about the rest.

Furthermore, I think media literacy isn’t only about someone’s ability to understand a text and its subtext, but also understand how they themselves fit into the narrative. Stories don’t exist in isolation and neither do humans. Having the ability to understand what you like and why you like it is an important quality to have. It helps you understand other texts and yourself.

Through the B&B Corp. I understood my interests were more complex than I initially gave myself credit for. This was my, “Hey! A lot of complex concepts matter to you! How women are represented in gaming matters to you!” moment. Playing Metal Gear Solid 4 also marked the moment I started researching ongoing conversations about games for further understanding. I enjoyed finding new ideas and watching how they would progress conversations between my brother and me.

This post was inspired by a conversation I had with a friend a couple months ago. She asked me if playing video games actually affected my media literacy skills and I told her yes without hesitation. After writing about the importance of monster narratives in 2026, I thought it would be best to highlight my own beginnings with monster narratives and media literacy.

Seeing video games as a leisure pastime with no positive impact on people, especially children, is simple. The importance comes from how people interact and engage with these games. I was fortunate enough to be curious like my brother; we would always analyze game stories and details together (and still do!).  

It’s also important to meet children where they’re at. Encouraging children to read books is great (and I think an inherently good idea), but understanding that alternative media can still improve their critical thinking and media literacy skills is also essential. The writing in the games I’ve mentioned here isn’t perfect, but there are still valuable qualities of all their stories.  

Practicing the skills I learnt in school in real life helped me internalize those skills. Overall, these video game monsters helped me become the reader, writer, and thinker I am today. 

What piece of media has shaped you through your childhood? How has it affected you today? I’d love to know in the comments!

Thank you for reading, and remember to stay curious. 

See you soon, 

Lysh 

Featured Image Credit: Nintendo. (1998). The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of time. [Video Game].