This post contains full spoilers for Lightning Returns: Final Fantasy XIII.
In Lightning Returns,
Lightning is sent into the last days of a dying world to save the souls of
people who remain trapped there. By Final
Fantasy standards, this world is very small – four areas, two of them
cities, only two open field zones. In a blunt but effective spatial metaphor,
the world is a circle, and you can eventually run a loop around the whole
thing.
The five parallel chapters that make up the core of the game
revolve around characters from the earlier in the trilogy; Snow, Sazh and Fang
from the first game, Noel and Caius from the second. In each chapter, Lightning
encounters an old tension, a pain that her former comrade or rival must let go.
She brings an awkward and often confrontational healing to each in turn,
pressing her mission as saviour.
Throughout it all, she is haunted by Lumina, who sometimes
seems to be a ghost of Lightning's sister (and frequently primary motivation)
Serah, and sometimes seems to be an avatar of Chaos, the power that is
consuming the world. Lumina teases Lightning, casting doubt on her motivations
and challenging her trust in the powers that have claimed her.
In the game's finale, Lumina reveals that she is actually
the part of Lightning's personality that has been suppressed since the death of
her parents. She reminds us – and as someone who hadn't played the original
game for five years years when I played LR,
I'd completely forgotten – that in FFXIII
Lightning has a speech about how she buried aspects of herself in order to
become strong to look after Serah.
Unlike certain classic Final
Fantasy heroes, Lightning's denial of her past was at least in part a
conscious choice, something she was and remains aware of. And Lumina's
revelation has a second crucial detail: unless Lightning reunites with her,
becomes whole again, Lightning herself will be trapped in the dying world. The
underlying assertion of the game is laid bare: that a nature divided against
itself in self-denial, as Noel's was, as Snow's was, as Lightning's still is,
is a deathtrap.
Lightning, of course, because this is a story, reunites with
her other half. So, in a substantive sense, it's a new Lightning, a new Claire
Farron, who survives into the new world shown briefly at the game's end. This,
as I understand it, is the Lightning who recently became a
model for Luis Vuitton[1]. The interview that she gave to The
Telegraph seems to back that up; at one point she says "I'm currently
winding down after a long journey."
A few people have suggested that the interview doesn't sound
like Lightning, or sounds a little cringeworthy, and to an extent I agree. It
certainly doesn't sound like the indomitable warrior Lightning of the video
games, and the interview itself doesn't seem to have benefitted from quite the
quality of translation that the games did. But Lightning is a changed woman,
and to me the changes feel about right for her story.
In fact, some of what Lightning said in the interview
resonated for me very strongly, particularly "My clothes were nothing more
than armor to stay alive; "dressing up" was a concept I've never
had." I've spent a lot of my life choosing things like clothing and food
on a purely functional basis, a habit of self-denial that eventually became so
pathological I ended
up in counselling for it.
For me, this was grounded in repression of my gender
identity born of the belief that I wasn't 'trans
enough'. And while I don't want to reduce all of trans-ness to clothing, or
assert that Lightning is trans – she encounters none of the social tensions
that come from an ill-fitting birth assignment –this theme within her story powerfully
captured a particular component of my own trans experience.
Lightning Returns,
after all, uses clothing as a core mechanic in a way conspicuously absent from
the first two games. In the first two, equipment is exclusively weapons and
accessories, but in Lightning Returns,
Lightning's entire combat role and ability set are determined by the outfits
she wears. The game incentivises collecting and experimenting with a broad and
diverse wardrobe, which can be tweaked both mechanically and cosmetically.
And I have this scene in my head where Lightning, after
saving the world, has kept all her outfits, telling herself they might be
useful, and Serah walks in on her trying one of them on. "I, uh.. I just
wanted to check I still knew how to use their powers." "Lightning,
it's okay. You look great! Let me go grab you some eyeshadow-"
"Could- could you call me Claire?"[2]
Yeah, it's a scene
rooted in a painful cliché of discovery and exposure for trans folks. But the
idea that Lightning could go from that to modelling – and to saying, in an
interview with a national newspaper, "It makes me feel excited... It is a
thrill that I, who has faced my share of danger, have never experienced
before," – is a rare happy ending to the cliché.
I've argued before that
a lot can be learned about heroism and masculinity from Lightning's journey.
With the benefit of these spoilers, I can say a bit more. Lightning's sullen,
insular soldier personality – the persona for whom clothes are nothing more
than armour – is classically masculine in some crucial ways that the resolution
of her story critiques.
For men, and particularly men growing up in the anglocentric
academic tradition I was raised to, emotions and preferences are weaknesses to
be suppressed. The idea that emotion is at odds with reason – and, with reason,
the possibility of true, pure, perfect knowledge – has dominated this tradition
and many of the specific cultures spun off from it since at least Plato. We see
it still in the 'reals before feels' rhetoric of internet 'rationalism' and the
clinical oppression of old academia.
In FFXIII,
Lightning's determination to suppress her pain, her frustration with her
sister, with Snow and with the Sanctum, and ultimately with the Fal'Cie, leads
to rash expressions of violence and driving the few people who might support
her away. By the end of the trilogy, her self-denial has become so poisonous
that it traps her in a dying world, a world torn apart by the Chaos it cannot
control or comprehend.
Early in FFXIII,
there's a flashback to Lightning's recent birthday. Serah's attempt to throw
her a party – with only Serah and Snow attending – ends in a disastrous row.
Lightning's only gift, from Serah, is a high-quality utility knife. It's a
stark illustration of how little there is to Lightning besides her soldierhood,
how thoroughly she has suppressed herself. I may or may not have had birthdays
a bit like this.
To see Lightning 'proud to be chosen', inspired and uplifted
by the opportunity to express a self she seems surprised to have discovered,
gives me hope. I feel like I, too, can be whole again, like I can escape the
meaningless circles of functionalism and rationalism. Like there is a person –
and specifically a woman - that I can be.
[1] There's a very short
view of the new world from orbit in the closing cinematic of Lightning Returns, and the coastline it
shows looked suspiciously like the real Mediterranean coast to me.
[2] I assume it's uncontroversial that Serah would be fully
supportive.
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