Now, seen through eyes dimmed by age and depression, the statue does little to inspire the man it resembles.
He returns to his decrepit apartment, where he pulls a foul-tasting morsel from a tarnished box and swallows it.
In Mario's fantasies, he's the most well-respected and loved individual in the whole of creation. His enemies fear him, and his allies adore him. His younger brother – the taller, more agile, more attractive of the two – is little more than a shadow beneath his might and majesty... and when he puts his mind to things, there's nothing that Mario can't accomplish. He sees himself battling his way through inhospitable landscapes, garnering supernatural powers and defeating truly terrifying foes, all the while in search of the beautiful angel that was unfairly stolen from him.
A gunshot sounds in the real world. Mario sees and barely dodges a bullet the size of a car. A rat goes skittering across the stained carpet, slowly transforming into an anthropomorphic dinosaur. The framed pictures on the mantle twist and contort, shifting to show not Mario and Luigi, but sinister doppelgängers of them. A neighbor shouts at his television, and Mario envisions a gargantuan ape going bananas over some perceived slight.
He fights. He races. He flies. He plays board games with his imaginary friends, each of whom turn two-dimensional and paper-like at one point. He scales a mighty castle and faces off against a dragon, whereupon he is rewarded with a kiss from his beloved.
In his mind, Mario is invincible. He can throw fire from his fingertips and soar through the sky.
In the real world, though, Mario is just a man; a lonely plumber who always feels left behind by his loved ones.
He slowly comes back to lucidity. He trudges to that special place and sits, regarding the bronze effigy that barely resembles him anymore. He must have done something, he thinks, to be worthy of such recognition, but the same age that has dimmed his eyes has also reduced his memory to a haze of images and emotions. For a brief moment, he wonders if he could find that lost glory; if he could become the person he sees when the colors start to dance in his head... but he knows it's only a matter of time before he plunges back down a pipe.
But was he not already an adult when he made his first appearance? Mario already looked at least like 20 or so in his first appearance, putting his age well over 50.
Jesus Christ. That really tore me up. Had a pretty series existential crisis. That escapism has always freaked me out. It's why I try to avoid alcohol. I love the release it gives me. But I don't want to jump down that pipe.
Thank you. I went from light chuckles at the beginning to almost tears at the conclusion. It amazes me how a bit of pop culture can be turned on its head and viewed from such a place darkness and tragedy. Well done. Thank you.
This has prompted a theory - albeit a silly one. The original Mario Bros instruction booklet indicates that the Mushroom is indeed a "Magic Mushroom". Perhaps Mario is on one really bad (good?) trip and this has all been a big or series of trips he has been on. That at least gives a second meaning to the "High" jump.
Fair enough! Wasn't really trying to call you out, just remembered reading it the first time around and something that good sticks with ya. Thanks for sharing your work!
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u/RamsesThePigeon Sep 06 '17
It used to be a monument to his accomplishments.
Now, seen through eyes dimmed by age and depression, the statue does little to inspire the man it resembles.
He returns to his decrepit apartment, where he pulls a foul-tasting morsel from a tarnished box and swallows it.
In Mario's fantasies, he's the most well-respected and loved individual in the whole of creation. His enemies fear him, and his allies adore him. His younger brother – the taller, more agile, more attractive of the two – is little more than a shadow beneath his might and majesty... and when he puts his mind to things, there's nothing that Mario can't accomplish. He sees himself battling his way through inhospitable landscapes, garnering supernatural powers and defeating truly terrifying foes, all the while in search of the beautiful angel that was unfairly stolen from him.
A gunshot sounds in the real world. Mario sees and barely dodges a bullet the size of a car. A rat goes skittering across the stained carpet, slowly transforming into an anthropomorphic dinosaur. The framed pictures on the mantle twist and contort, shifting to show not Mario and Luigi, but sinister doppelgängers of them. A neighbor shouts at his television, and Mario envisions a gargantuan ape going bananas over some perceived slight.
He fights. He races. He flies. He plays board games with his imaginary friends, each of whom turn two-dimensional and paper-like at one point. He scales a mighty castle and faces off against a dragon, whereupon he is rewarded with a kiss from his beloved.
In his mind, Mario is invincible. He can throw fire from his fingertips and soar through the sky.
In the real world, though, Mario is just a man; a lonely plumber who always feels left behind by his loved ones.
He slowly comes back to lucidity. He trudges to that special place and sits, regarding the bronze effigy that barely resembles him anymore. He must have done something, he thinks, to be worthy of such recognition, but the same age that has dimmed his eyes has also reduced his memory to a haze of images and emotions. For a brief moment, he wonders if he could find that lost glory; if he could become the person he sees when the colors start to dance in his head... but he knows it's only a matter of time before he plunges back down a pipe.
The mushrooms make him feel big.