Final Fantasy and Philosophy: The Ultimate Walkthrough Read Online Free PDF Page A

years. With the rediscovery of magic, this peace is threatened. The fear of what would happen if the gods of magic should return gives rise to the notion of madness in the game, in much the same way that fear of the Christian apocalypse created the label of madness at the end of the Middle Ages. Kefka is quickly labeled mad because those around him fear the knowledge he may possess.
    The Age of (Un)Reason
    In the eighteenth century, the dawn of the Age of Enlightenment was heralded as the solution to all of humanity’s problems. Foucault contended that nothing was more of a threat to humanity at this time than those who refused to employ reason—madness became the very antithesis of reason. Philosophers such as Immanuel Kant (1724-1804) even went so far as to provide us with purely rational justifications for morality. So, naturally, those whose capacities for reason were flawed came to be viewed as morally corrupt. Foucault marked this period as the “Great Confinement,” or the birth of the insane asylum. The insane were locked away for the betterment of society, treated little differently than criminals even if they had committed no criminal acts. From this point onward, madness and depravity are inextricably linked. The marriage of these two concepts creates a set of familiar archetypes: the criminally insane, the violently deranged, and the homicidal maniac.
    Players are quite comfortable giving Kefka such labels. Few of the protagonists attempt to reason with him, and certainly none desire to understand him. Any attempt he makes to persuade us of his position is ignored and invalidated. His arguments are routinely dismissed with a common logical fallacy, an ad hominem, or “appeal to the person.” This fallacy involves referencing some aspect of a person’s character as defective or undesirable, rather than criticizing the logic of the person’s argument. A common use of this fallacy is to say, “You’re crazy,” implying that nothing of what you argue could be logically valid. Good reason, however, stands on its own; “twice two makes four” is a sound statement whether I am perfectly rational or certifiably insane. During the Great Confinement, however, there was no attempt to understand those who were locked up, just as we have no desire to understand Kefka. The insane were simply locked away and forgotten, “just” punishment for their perceived moral transgressions.
    We are definitely justified in locking up Kefka—he is most definitely homicidal—but what evidence do we have that he is insane? There is a method to his madness, as Polonius would say of Hamlet. The poisoning of Doma was the most efficient and effective way of ending the siege swiftly and with a minimal loss of Imperial life. What is unreasonable about that? In fact, before the story ends Kefka amasses divine power and finds that there is no ultimate meaning behind the world’s existence. He thus sets out to destroy it. If there is no purpose, no reason, then why should the world exist at all? This fundamental logic is the basis for the philosophical movement of existentialism, which we shall turn to shortly when we discuss the work of Nietzsche. Existentialism arose as a response to the Age of Enlightenment, proposing that logic cannot provide meaning to the world, so we must seek it elsewhere. If Kefka suffers from anything, perhaps it is not too little reason but too much. When he achieves the height of all rational power available to both humans and the gods, he suddenly finds no justification for life at all.
    God Is Dead! Long Live Kefka!
    The main theme of Madness and Civilization permeates all of Foucault’s work: society has a desire for control and that which it cannot control, it seeks to dismiss. The very concept of madness has become a tool of dismissal and control. As we saw, labeling Kefka as mad is really just an attempt to ignore what may be a valid point of view. Now let’s take a more serious look at how he