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I am woefully out of my depth here...
There is no way to convince her not to do what she's doing; the only thing that "discussion" decides is whether or not you agree to go along with it.
You get a taste of it if you actually do what the Narrator says and slays the princess. You get to spend an eternity of nothing in an empty room, an eternity of comfortable, boring bliss. The Princess is death, impermanence and renewal. Take that away from the world and all you get is stagnancy where nothing ever happens.
I've already tried that, but I do appreciate the input.
That's what I was thinking: you kill Her, and the world stops.
It doesn't even mark the end of suffering necessarily, but potentially the start of suffering everlasting. Hell, not even that. After a while you probably won't even feel much of anything. Just... nothingness.
Maybe it's just my zoomer brain that's near-constantly exposed to external stimuli talking, but I can't imagine that's good for anyone.
Me personally? I'd probably go insane in that cabin within hours.
Yes. Death and suffering are both irreplaceable parts of life. For life to have any meaning, you must accept them both as your constant companion. It's one of the big messages this game tries to impart on the player.
The Narrator is ultimately just a coward who fears death and suffering so much that he's ready to embrace nothingness to avoid it. It is the equivalence of somebody who's so afraid of dying to a freak occurrence that they'll simply sit down in the middle of an empty room and do nothing, thinking this will stop them from dying. The truth is that once a person makes this decision in earnest, they have already died in every way that matters.
I don't hate people who make that choice as much as I pity them. However, the Narrator took it on himself to make that choice for EVERYONE and not just himself. For that I hold nothing but hatred for him.
If you can't find meaning in death then you can't accept it and if you can't accept it then you can't do anything but try to fight it. Once you start fighting something that happens to everyone then it's not a tall leap to reason that everyone else must be making a wrong choice somewhere and to try and "save" them from it.
No. I understand what you're saying but I cannot accept that viewpoint myself. Making a choice like that on behalf of everybody in the world is so fundamentally opposed to my own personal ethics that I have very little pity to give him.
But I recognize that others--like yourself, it seems--think differently and that's fine.
Aye. Never felt any ill will towards the Narrator, in spite of Him being so unforthcoming. While He was making a choice on behalf of everyone - their own perspectives notwithstanding - I can at least somewhat understand why he believes it to be the right thing to do.
He's no villain (despite what the Smitten might say), but rather a man so scared of death that he never truly cared to live.
Reminds me a tiny bit of Kergan from Arcanum: Of Steamworks and Magick Obscura in a way.
For me Narrator is a echo from your past self, and you are the death itself, the crow is symbol of death, you wanted to stop yourself and te princess is like the nature, keeps changing, even without you... like you said, we played the same game, and i have different conclusions, thats why i liked so much of this game.
Yes, I've enjoyed talking about the game with my friends who played it a lot, comparing and discussing interpretations and perspectives. There's just enough defined for the narrative to not be incomprehensible, but also just enough undefined that people can experience very different interpretations. It is a hallmark of great pieces of writing when it can be used as a mirror of the reader; when their interpretations say more about themselves than it does about the writing in question.
I have no pity for him whatsoever, and I hope he was posturing when he said it didn't hurt him when those mirrors broke. I hope it hurt a lot. He wasn't scared of death. He was scared of life, of people making choices he didn't like. I hate people like this in the real world, I will never not hate them in fiction.