Recently father and video game developer Mike Mika redesigned the classic game Donkey Kong to reverse the gender roles of the characters. In his version Pauline became the heroine saving Mario from the evil giant ape. Mika did this based on his daughter’s stated preference that she wanted to save Mario. According to Mr. Mika, his daughter seems to enjoy the game more since the switch. This story became widely distributed over the internet as a much needed victory for empowerment of young women. You can watch Mika’s version of the game here.
While I definitely appreciate Mike Mika’s redesign I think there’s a deeper issue not being addressed by the gender inversion. Namely I believe Donkey Kong reveals a mytheme. A mytheme is the essential unit or kernel of a myth. It’s a structurally similar form seen across a variety of different versions of a myth. In this regard video games like Donkey Kong to me are a holdover, a residue, or perhaps better an echo, of a classic mytheme surrounding mysticism, namely the mysticism of ascent.
When I speak of the mysticism of ascent I mean a spirituality that emphasizes a transcendent reality somewhere up above this world that one must journey towards. One must leave or transcend this plane of reality to reach a more perfect one somewhere else.
This ascending mytheme evident in many video games has some potentially problematic aspects–aspects that are going unexamined and replicating themselves in human consciousness through the proliferation of video games. Donkey Kong is a primordial video game and therefore is a great example to use. It’s one of the first platform video games. It’s the first with a full narrative storyline. It’s also the first to introduce the mytheme of saving the damsel in distress (which Mike Mika’s hack so brilliantly deconstructed).
Whether it’s the Hero’s Journey on TV shows, Shamanism in Modern Day Fairy Tales, The Christ Story in superhero movies, or the Path of Ascent in video games, mythemes play themselves out in our media culture, however officially secular it may be. I see a strong resonance of the ascending mystical traditions in the tradition of video games, particularly in Donkey Kong. This deeper structure–with its potential problems–will not be unearthed simply by a gender inversion process however helpful that is on it’s own terms.
What exactly do I mean by the mysticism of ascent and how is it being replicated in Donkey Kong? Let’s consider some parallels.
The Great and Mystical Donkey Kong
In Donkey Kong there are levels. One ascends through the levels by mastering each successive one. This is literally the case in Donkey Kong as one scales up ladders and each new level is located up above the one prior. Similarly, in the mystical traditions there are levels of ascent–usually depicted as planes of reality. The mystical aspirant is taught, through various techniques, how to “jump” up to higher levels of consciousness and being.
In Donkey Kong one must master (“beat” in original video game player-ese) each level and its attendant challenges and opponent. On the mystical path one must defeat various characteristic enemies in order to reach a higher level. Challenges and opponents on the mystical path include deep-seated fears, common misperceptions, potential fixation on pleasure-inducing mystical phenomena…as opposed to say falling barrels and moving fire.
Nevertheless the same basic mythic structure is in place in both–both are a kind of game, a form of hyperreality.
In Donkey Kong, as in mysticism, one is assumed to be a solitary individual who must ascend this obstacle course. Originally the character in Donkey Kong was known as ‘Jumpman’. Truthfully this is a pretty good name for the mystical ascender: A Jumpman (as usually, though not always, they have historically been men).
This solitary individual must journey alone (or perhaps occasionally with the aid of temporary helpers) and overcome various obstacles and challenges. These challenges are overcome through the use of some basic, repeated techniques. In Donkey Kong that’s jumping, ascending and descending ladders, moving side to side, and using the various tools on screen (e.g. hammer). In the mystical traditions these techniques consist of things like allowing energy to rise up the back of one’s body, opening up above oneself, closing the eyes and turning them upward, repeating mantras, guided visualizations, and the like.
In Donkey Kong, Mario (or Pauline in Mike Mika’s version) undertakes all these actions and seek to overcome these obstacles in order to unite permanently with his beloved. In the mystical tradition, one ascends to unite with the Transcendent Source.
Notice that in both the video game and the ascending spiritual tradition there is a journeyer, a set of techniques, a game of challenges, and a love or goal at the end. Having reached the pinnacle, this individual will conquer the final barrier and be forever united with his beloved.
(Sidenote: Though in a brilliant, perhaps even ironic twist, in Donkey Kong once one finished the original four levels and saved Pauline, the game restarts from the beginning in a more advanced form–leaving open the possibility that there never actually is a finish to the ascent, leaving the individual forever struggling upward. In the history of mysticism this is known as epektesis, and was actually the view of one of the greatest Christian mystics, St. Gregory of Nyssa, who argued we would never ever fully completely reach God but would forever journey more deeply into what we could experience of The Divine Mystery.).
There are many variations on this same basic theme of mystical ascent in the world’s spiritual traditions. In the tradition of Merkavah mysticism of Kabbalistic Judaism one meditates and ascends up to the Chariot of God (or the Throne of God). In Shabd Yoga one follows inner sounds upwards, through thee sound’s current until one reaches the Primordial Sound, seen as the Originating Source of all reality. In Kundalini Yoga, the serpent power lying coiled at the base of the spine uncoils and rises up the spine until it pushes through the crown of the head leading to an experience of ascended light. In the Christian mystical tradition primary images include the Ladder of Ascent usually up a mountain or climbing a staircase to heaven. Other examples could be given, these are not meant to be exhaustive, merely representative.
Critique of Donkey Kong Spirituality
There are some characteristic problems associated with the Donkey Kong-esque mysticism of ascent.
1. The Critique from The Absolute
As I said the mysticism of ascent assumes the coherent identity and reality of a separate self-sense. It then uses certain techniques to effect a major transformation in this self-sense. Traditions like Zen Buddhism and Advaita Vedanta (along with many others) question the automatic assumption of a self-contained, individual self. They do this through processes like koans or inquiry, repeatedly asking “Who am I?” “Who is asking this question?” These traditions argue that it we follow these processes deeply enough they will show the insubstantial nature of the self sense. With no separate self, then there are no practices to do to effect change for that self. In addition there is no longer any objective outside world relative to that self, nor any prize that self must attain (whether Pauline or total absorption into the Source). The whole self-world-enemy-attainment-God complex falls apart once the separate self drops. No levels, no ladders, no up, no down, no climber–just free fall in space.
2. Critique of Ascent
This critique can be combined with critique #1 or exist on its own. The mysticism of ascent is, as the name implies, ascending in nature. As a result, the history of spirituality in the last 2,000 years, which has largely been dominated by the traditions of ascent, has left a destructive trail. When our ascent becomes driven by fear, then mysticism can become a cover for teachings and communities that deny the value of the earth, of the human body, of women, of sexual existence, of indigenous wisdom, and of our inherently animal nature and connection with all life. I don’t think I need to remind any of the pain that mistake has caused and continues to cause.
Now What?
Given these trenchant criticisms, is there any value to Donkey Kong spirituality? Is there anything worth salvaging in it? Anything worth rescuing? I think there is.
If we look at traditions of iconography–for example Christian, Buddhist, Hindu, Sufi among others–we see halos. We see beings of grace who radiate a light that encircles their heads, shining outward. For our purposes here what interests me about a halo is that they reach up above the top of our physical heads. Our incarnation is more than our physical selves. We extend around, below, and above our physical bodies. The halo tradition is not simply a metaphor, it’s a clear artistic description of a spiritual reality. There’s part of us that are up above what we normally think of as our physically defined bodies. A halo reveals a person whose “higher” forms of themselves are open and full of light. I put “higher’ in quotes there because higher here doesn’t mean better–that was the mistake of many of the ascending spiritual traditions, to see these parts of our incarnation as our salvation and to seek to flee from our “lower” parts and live exclusively in our “higher” selves.
But what if we don’t make that Donkey Kong mistake? What if we aren’t driven by a notion that we have to climb “up there”, to save some Prince/Princess, to finally and forever overcome some devilish or apeish foe? What then? Well, it means we could retain a, maybe the, central insight of the ascending traditions–we could open up these parts of ourselves and become responsible for the full range of our being here as human. Part of the spectrum of our being here does include parts of us that are more transcendent, subtler, more ascended in nature. (For readers interested in a somewhat more technical description of what these parts of ourselves are through the framework of chakras, see this piece I wrote on the subject.)
Responsible is the key word there. The Donkey Kong tradition of spirituality is too much of a game.* It’s too achievement-oriented, too immersed in a mentality of conquering and winning. Responsible, on the other hand, means realizing that these parts of ourselves are always operative. Either we will come into conscious relationship with these dimensions of ourselves and therefore become responsible for what we are putting out there or we won’t and they will unconsciously transmit their conditioning, potentially hurting us and others. (For the record, this exact same mechanism holds for the “lower” end of our incarnational spectrum.)
There’s no winning in the spiritual path.
With the current range towards embodiment in spirituality (one I’ve been critical of) I do think there’s a subtle bias against the ascended portions of ourself. By ascended I mean these parts of ourselves that are extend up above our heads–the subtler domains of ourself that are depicted with halos.
I think we should retain the opening of these ascended portions of our incarnation without this whole narrative of ascent. Ascended yes, ascent no. A model to consider for such a way of approaching the subject would be emotional literacy. Emotional literacy training is simply about learning to name and experience different emotions, recognizing the distinct role of each and how they work together, and how to take proper care of emotional boundaries. I could see an “ascended literacy” which would strip these domains of the narrative of ascent and spiritual heroism (and the subtle or not-so-subtle arrogance that inevitably comes from such a viewpoint). It would just be rather plain and straightforward–creative, fun, and interesting to be sure–but not a game. Not about who has the highest score and can reach the highest most spiritual state. It would just be about the learning the language, the experience, the strengths and limitations of the ascended portions of ourselves–and this would simply be one course, if you like, in a more integrated curriculum. A real spiritual path that would seek to welcome and work with our bodies, our emotions, our shadow, our beliefs, our souls, and so forth.
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* Another article for another day and for another person to write would look at the postmodern turn in video games, particularly multi-player online role games. i.e. The way in which video games are reflective of and furthering the movement towards postmodern consciousness. In the multi-player role games especially the landscape is arguably much flatter (more horizontal) than the vertical orientation of most classic video games. The storyline element, nascent in Donkey Kong, is much more in full flower. The way in which characters can co-construct collaboratively their environments (think 2nd Life). The way in which characters can create their own identities. These are all hallmarks of postmodern consciousness.