A creator can rarely foresee the ripples their work will send across the cultural landscape at the moment of its debut. The essence of the artistic process lies in the act of creation itself—building something with conviction, releasing it into the wild, and hoping it finds a kindred spirit. Whether a work is destined for ridicule, obscurity, or immortality is a question for the future; the only imperative is to let it exist.
It is difficult to conceive that the visionaries at Nintendo possessed this specific brand of uncertainty on February 21, 1986—the day The Legend of Zelda premiered on the Famicom Disk System in Japan. As we honor the franchise’s 40th anniversary, it feels counterintuitive to imagine Shigeru Miyamoto or Takashi Tezuka being anything less than certain. Surely, they recognized they were forging a revolutionary odyssey that would fundamentally recalibrate the medium of play?
Yet, even with the loftiest ambitions, no developer could have anticipated the sheer scale of Zelda’s legacy. Over four decades, Nintendo has achieved the Herculean feat of maintaining the series’ vital importance through a cycle of perpetual reinvention. When the original top-down perspective reached its zenith, the series transitioned into the third dimension with Ocarina of Time, establishing the very architectural framework of the modern action-adventure. When the aesthetic threatened to become stagnant, Nintendo pivoted toward the vibrant, cel-shaded whimsy of The Wind Waker, challenging the industry’s obsession with gritty realism. And just as the formula seemed set in stone, Breath of the Wild dismantled and rebuilt the genre’s design language for a new generation.
Image: Nintendo EAD/Nintendo
I have often contemplated why Zelda remains so remarkably enduring while other prestigious franchises succumb to creative exhaustion. While mechanical innovation is vital, there is a deeper reason why audiences don’t tire of these familiar archetypes. Theoretically, we should be weary of Link saving Hyrule from Ganon by now, even with eccentric diversions like Link’s Awakening to break the rhythm.
The answer came into focus recently through an exchange with readers. Following a critique I wrote regarding the perceived stagnation of the Yakuza series—where I argued that its reliance on repetitive tropes and retcons had turned it into something of a soap opera—a spirited debate emerged. One reader posed a poignant question: “Why don’t we apply this same standard to Zelda or Metroid?”
The response to that question was illuminating. It suggested that Zelda avoids the “soap opera” trap because it exists as something much more primal: “I would argue that Zelda is actually the inverse… it’s a folk tale.”
That perspective is incredibly accurate. There is an inherent timelessness to Zelda that defies easy categorization. Each entry feels like a foundational myth—a parable about a hero, a blade, and a kingdom in peril. While the mechanics shift and the narratives grow more intricate, the series remains anchored to the fundamental tenets of storytelling. Each game is a legend recounted for a new age. Have you heard of the Hero of Time who traversed the Dark World? Or the warrior who stood against Onox? What of the time he walked as a wolf? The more Link is viewed as a mythological figure, the more we crave each new iteration of his story. Though the presentation evolves, the core elements remain immutable: the hero, the princess, the demon, and the Triforce. The myth is simply told anew.
This is precisely why I maintain that Ocarina of Time remains the pinnacle of the medium, even as contemporary discourse shifts. It is a story designed to be inherited across generations—a concept literally woven into its time-bending narrative. It occupies a space in the gaming canon similar to The Canterbury Tales in literature: a seminal text that serves as the DNA for everything that followed. Zelda games are more than entertainment; they are living documents we are meant to revisit and revere.
In the grand tapestry of art history, forty years is but a brief moment. We may need to wait until the centenary to truly measure Zelda against the literary greats. But for this milestone, reflect on its immense influence. Consider those developers in 1986, launching a project with no guarantee of a five-year legacy, let alone a forty-year one. Let that be the catalyst for your own creativity: build your world and share it, regardless of how many you think will listen.
Source: Polygon
