Coping with Death through Elden Ring

I lost my grandma last summer. Even though my family should have been prepared for her departure, losing such a key figure in my life had a devastating effect on my thoughts. Two years of pandemic and the awareness of a brain of a 34-year-old man created a very bad mix. Tormented by the most common and human feelings about Death, I found comfort in an unexpected ally: a game that repeatedly puts the player in front of the Grim Reaper, Elden Ring.

Elden Ring, From Software (2022)

During the Pandemic, I have carefully avoided any potential anxiety trigger from my recreational activities: movies, books, and games underwent scrutiny before consumption to have a safe zone in which to elaborate, process, and sometimes forget the unbearable amount of bad news and events happening outside the window in that period.

That's why I didn't play The Last of Us 2 for a long time, in spite of the general acclaim, and never touched a Souls game before. To be fair, I never played any of the From Software hits even before these two stressful years. My daily dose of stress was enough without playing a game that promises to push my patience beyond its limits. Many friends tried to convince me to give them a chance, as dark fantasy is something that really intrigues me, but I've kindly declined the offer every time. I need to chill, not to kill.

Then Elden Ring arrived. Its incredible open world, art direction, and premise won over my qualms, and I became one of the Tarnished fighting for the title of Elden Lord.

I started the journey at the beginning of April, and until the end of the year, it has been the main game running on my console.

During this period, bad and good things happened to everyone, but my grandma passing away was simply too much. She was my mom's mom, and she extensively helped my parents raise me and my sister. She had a role so meaningful in my life, a presence so constant, that I can barely process the whole thing.

Her loss hit me differently, and all those atavistic fears about Death came out with unprecedented strength, forcing me to think about them more than I would like.

Usually, when these kinds of thoughts start to flood my head, I try to keep my mind busy with something else. But this time, the circumstances put me in a position in which my diversion is also the worst catalyst possible. From that moment on, I started experiencing Elden Ring with a different spirit, finding its haunting themes kind of relieving.

Like the rest of the Souls games, Elden Ring is a tragedy. It's the type of tragedy where everything goes terribly wrong from start to finish, side quests included. The closest thing to a happy ending is an unceremonious cutscene in which you rest after hundreds of hours hunting down enemies.

While the rest of the industry strives to create a flawless experience, trying to reduce any interruption during your playthrough, Elden Ring embraces the old-school concept of Game Over at its fullest. Sadistic, it smashes in your face all the failures: YOU DIED because you are weak, YOU DIED because you are slow, YOU DIED because you aren't smart enough. YOU DIED. A moment before, you are there trying to do your best, and a moment later, you are gone. The fragility of existence.

There's a local song that has always struck me the most about this theme - "Morire per delle Idee" by Fabrizio De André - with a phrase that can be translated in "taking advantage of not being so fragile of heart, we die loitering a little". Basically, we don't freak out on a regular basis thinking about our season finale because we tend to ignore the time passing by. Unfortunately, that's when you start to mechanize your actions, when the routine takes over and you don't pay enough attention, that time slips away, and reality hits you hard. Like that boss that pulls out of nowhere a new attack from its moveset and wipes out your health bar. So you lost the chance to say goodbye to someone you love. Time now marches on with louder steps. But you've learned the pattern; just try not to repeat the same mistakes.

As well as my thanatophobia.

In Elden Ring, Death has been removed from the circle of life to secure total control over the fate of the inhabitants of the Land Between to the Greater Will, the ruling god of this world, and its embodiment, Queen Marika the Eternal. In this way, not only does Marika decide who lives and who returns to the Erd Tree, but she also keeps her children, the Demigods, safe.

Ironically, the tragic adventure of the game begins when one of those Demigods is murdered, and the Queen decides to turn against the Greater Will, shattering the Elden Ring. Ah, the inevitability of the End and the rage that generates from it! Accepting that all the good things in your life will one day be gone is a hard pill to swallow. On the other hand, we can consider ourselves blessed enough to have had the chance to experience them.

Actually, it is a matter of pure luck and nothing more: thinking about all the nightmarish things happening around the world, the odds of being born in the wrong place at the wrong time are quite high. You could have been cursed, like the Tribe of nomad Merchants unjustly accused of worshiping the Frenzy Flames and, for this reason, punished in such a terrible way as to wish they had never been born in the first place. Life is a random casting, one can only hope to have a good role in the story.

At the very end of Elden Ring, you basically face God itself in the form of the Elden Beast, the deity at the top of the hierarchy, the reason for all the bad things that happened to you, the scapegoat on which to pour all your rage and the rest of the emotions of the mourning process.

The battle is haunting and slow-paced enough to give you time to think about the enormous mistake you are making while trying to slay it, which is basically the same feeling that you experience when conveniently searching for excuses about your absence, your completely screwed list of priorities, or any episode in which you had plenty of chances to do the right thing but missed all.

That sense of betrayal shifts elsewhere, amid your shortcomings, and the problem is not a master of puppets out there anymore. Confrontation with yourself is the hardest one, and I'm not referring to the Mimic Tear boss fight. I'm talking about living with your decisions.

Speaking of which: once the final battle is over, you need to choose the ending. Basically, it’s a metaphor for what you must do when things go wrong: fix what remains of your beliefs, replace them with something different, and change your path, or deny them. Whatever you choose will look like the wrong choice.

A thousand of "what if?" invade my mind without my consent, like the Bloody Fingers I repulsed the whole time. Our body is made up of 60% water and 40% doubts, yet we keep going as a good Tarnished touched by the Grace should. Some big questions will remain unanswered in this cryptic story. More realistically, they will outlive us. Credits will roll anyway.

The Elden Ring, for me, has the shape of a huge regret, and I'm afraid I will see it like this for a long time. The only thing I can do now is to rest in the shade of a giant tree, trying to enjoy the journey while I can.