"Good morning, Chrono!"
Chrono Trigger (the game) is a seminal classic. Arguably, it set the bar higher than any game has been able to for any genre since it's release. Both cutesy yet epic, joyful yet morose, it has stood the test of time. Anyone who has played it understands why this wasn't just another game. It was the Citizen Kane of video games. And while the game was the same for everyone who played it, they all have a unique story behind the experience. What it meant to one player, what emotions it invoked, was a truly personal experience. If you haven't played the game, you likely think I'm overshooting with my description of the gravitas of this game, quickly reminding me "it's just a game." It was/is just a game, but again, I'm not just describing the game itself, I'm describing the experience. I had that experience. I remember it fondly.
Michael P. Williams is among those who took the Chrono Trigger experience. The game has clearly left an indelible mark on him as well, as chronicled (see my word choice there?) in his book that takes the same name as the game. In Chrono Trigger (the book), Williams chooses not to use the pages to simply detail the plot, production and facts about the game as one might expect from a video game retrospective; he breaks different aspects of the game down and reassembles them while retrofitting them with his personal experiences: his thoughts on what they meant to him in 1995, what they mean to him in 2014, and his views on how they provide commentary on society across that span of time.
At times, the author draws from his own adventures as an American living in Japan shortly after the turn of the century to provide insight on how wonky such differences in culture can be. He parallels this to the wonkiness of getting such a massive (at the time) game reformatted for the western world. He again uses his time abroad to draw similarities between that and parts of the actual story contained within the game.
What makes this book so engaging, besides being well-written, poignant and humorous, is the fact that it's not just a retelling of the whowhatwherewhenwhy behind Chrono Trigger. If I want that, I can take to the internet and wiki to my heart's content. As I mentioned at the start of this review, Chrono Trigger is an experience. What that experience is will be unique for each player. This book is Williams' experience. It's not my experience, it's not yours. It's his. But getting to read someone else's experience allows me to feel like I'm not alone with the high-regard I keep this Super Nintendo classic. It allows me to see what similarities my experience has with that of the author, and where the differences are.
It encourages readers to look at the things that stay with them over time, whether it's a video game, a movie, another human being, or a really good pastrami on rye they ate while visiting Manhattan. The point I'm trying to make about this book is, video games today are a cultural juggernaut. But in the 1990s, when Williams (and myself, I might add) first began playing Chrono Trigger, video games were kids stuff, nothing to be taken seriously. The author knew then that Chrono Trigger was something BIGGER. It stayed with him, despite the general consensus at the time that it was just a game. This book is simply his telling us that. If it means something to you, cherish it. Even if it might not seem like a big deal to the frog next to you.
I highly recommend this book but warn those who may not be familiar with the video game: if you haven't played it, then a lot of it will surely be lost on you. But then again, if you haven't played it, shame on you!