Taken from Cameron Morris, @CamWriter on Twitter, an interesting stance on Ganondorf.
“When Zelda fans talk about WW Ganondorf, it's usually re: him being the most sympathetic version of Ganon, or the most sympathetic character in Zelda.
I'ma take a minute to go over why he's the most evil Ganondorf has ever been. Probably the most evil Nintendo character, period.
People love that line—"I coveted that wind, I suppose." He's reflecting while he says it! Shit's got depth, and feeling behind it! He's admitting to his own greed! This is development!
And, yes, it is development. But it's first and foremost a portrait of a liar, like this scene
The Zelda series never goes deep into the lifestyle of the Gerudo, even in BOTW. We see bits and pieces. When WW came out, OoT was all we had
So when he talks about the suffering of his people, how the desert wind killed them, we want to believe. We want him to have a reason.
But it's not true, you know? Immediately and on its face
We never see the Gerudo populace in Ocarina, only a border fort and one of their sacred temples
We do see the effect Ganondorf has on his soldiers, the experiments his lieutenants run on them, though this isn't about that
Assume that what Ganondorf says is true—the Gerudo existed on the verge of extinction and in a state of constant suffering. Assume that what we see in BOTW, a thriving people who are rich in culture and secure in their place in the world, was a later development.
Then what?
Ganondorf ruled Hyrule with absolute power for seven years. No army could stand against him; no martial force was a meaningful threat. His forces were omnipresent. He was effectively omnipotent.
Not one Gerudo lives in the body of Hyrule when Link returns. Not one.
You may be thinking, "But WW Ganondorf is a different character!" It's true that he can't inform our reading of OoT, but WW is so dependent on the events and characters of its predecessor that I think it can't help but be informed by it. This is the same man you defeated in 1998.
The really terrifying thing about Ganondorf in this sequence isn't that he's telling us a lie—it's that he might well believe it. Here? He is real. He looks back on his deeds and says, "I must have had a reason."
And he invents one.
And he believes it.
And we believe him.
He is a man who is rewriting his past, holding up his own people as justification for atrocity because there is no one left to gainsay him. A country shattered, a world ruined, but it was for a cause, wasn't it?
Wasn't it?
But the lie doesn't hold up under pressure. There's only so much that Ganondorf can believe about himself. At his heart he is not a sad creature given to melancholy—he still hungers, and that hunger would swallow the world.
Wind Waker is about him nearly satisfying that hunger.
"Give Hyrule to me!"
We might still believe him, even then, mightn't we? That he's simply settling his ancient grudge, righting a layered wrong against his people, against himself, against Hyrule. Who doesn't want Hyrule to come back? Who doesn't want the sea to recede?
But he doesn't get his wish. The world is in his hand, and once more it is pulled away. And something falls from him, then
Maybe he doesn't stop lying to himself, but he certainly stops pretending to be something he's not. Denied, his hunger doesn't recede; it finds a new outlet
Daphnes wishes for hope for Link and Tetra, for the people of Hyrule. He wishes that they have a future free of the shadow of Ganondorf, the Triforce, everything in their blood-soaked history
Here, Daphnes is who Ganondorf pretends: flawed, cruel, but struggling for his people
And Ganondorf is left without the ability to pretend. And Ganondorf no longer sees fit to hide himself.
When looking at the children who will guide the future, who are to be free of him, with the engine of the universe turned against him, he has only one thought: to ruin what part of the world he can still touch.
And it is not rage, or sorrow, or yearning for the return of his people that drives him. He does not covet the wind; he sought the world, and it is not his, and its inheritors cannot either. Why should he be unhappy now? He is free to express himself as he did centuries ago.
So he turns, and shows us his real face. And oh, how he is smiling.
And still—still!—we believe him.
We remember him for his moment of melancholy, instead of the blood he has bathed in. For the lie he told about himself and his people, instead of the truth of the children he would have butchered simply for the cruelty of ruining the world.
We want so badly to believe him, I think, because we want to believe that people aren't simply evil. We'll extend that to anyone, even our sorcerous god-kings.
What a good lie he told. How effective. How monstrous! How real. A lie that actual men like him would tell.
I think about this almost every time I see people who make fanart or fanfic of Ganondorf being a kind, misunderstood person. Or their own good versions of Ganondorf.
I'd like to see that character—the one people believed to be there—one day. This man isn't him.
The Calamity is a natural cataclysm; TP Ganondorf is someone who thinks themselves a god; OoT Ganondorf is a wizard king who seeks the world.
Wind Waker Ganondorf is a man who tells himself he's justified in burning the world, and believes it. What's more evil than that?
In case it's ambiguous: Ganondorf is one of my favorite characters in any game, and Wind Waker is definitely my favorite iteration of him. More believably evil wizards!
Always more believably evil wizards
If you like how I talk about Zelda, listen to my podcast.
The Book of Mudora's nothing but talking about the lore of the Zelda games, and how we relate to that lore. It's a lot of fun! Also available on whatever podcast platform you prefer.”
http://www.audioentropy.com/#/the-book-of-mudora/
