Cry of the Planet

Preface

This article began as a compilation of notes and thoughts related to the planning of my novelization of Final Fantasy VII. As it grew, it became a full-blown explanation and defense for the perhaps not-so-trivial changes that I would like to make to the story.

Planet Life — Bridging the Gap

It is important to understand the theory of life, or worldview, in Final Fantasy VII (called Planet Life) because of the ways in which it affects the story’s plot. Most importantly, this philosophy is used as the explanation for the beginning and the end of any life—human, animal, plant, or planet—accounting for physical and spiritual components of beings. Because of the significance of the story’s climax and the importance of the issues addressed, the theory of Planet Life needs to be examined to see whether or not it adequately supports the weight of this subject matter.

The basics

Bugenhagen is the wise old man who explains most of what we know about Planet Life. Let’s begin with what he has to say on the basics:

Eventually, all humans die. What happens to them after they die? The body decomposes and returns to the Planet. That much everyone knows. What about their consciousness, their hearts and their souls? The soul too returns to the Planet; and not only those of humans, but everything on this Planet. In fact, all living things in the universe are the same. The spirits that return to the Planet merge with one another and roam the Planet. They roam, converge, and divide, becoming a swell called the Lifestream: in other words, a path of energy of the souls roaming the Planet. Spirit Energy is a word [sic] that you should never forget. A new life: children are blessed with Spirit energy and are brought into the world. Then, the time comes with they die and once again return to the Planet. Of course there are exceptions, but this is the way of the world.

So this is the basic concept of the life cycle on a planet. Bugenhagen goes on to explain that planets too are subject to such a cycle:

… While this goes on, planets are born, and die… When it’s time for this planet to die, you’ll understand that you know absolutely nothing. Ho ho hoooo. It may be tomorrow or a hundred years from now but it’s not long off.

Starting with these basics, let’s try to understand some more specifics of how this Theory of Planet Life influences the world of Final Fantasy VII.

Digging a bit deeper

There are a few areas of Bugenhagen’s Theory that I believe require some further exploration.

The life of a planet

The game does not go into great detail in describing how planets are born and what happens when they die. Bugenhagen does state: “Spirit energy makes all things possible, trees, birds, and humans… Not just living things. But Spirit energy makes it possible for planets to be planets.” If Spirit energy acts like any other form of physical energy, we’ll assume that it obeys at least the first law of thermodynamics; thus it cannot simply be destroyed when a planet dies. We might assume that the death of a planet would result in Spirit energy returning to some greater energy reservoir and/or being reallocated to the birthing of a new planet.

The destiny of souls

Some of the understanding of this Planet Life theory depends on what we believe about people’s spirits and souls and what happens to them after the person’s body dies. The specifics of what a ‘soul’ and a ‘spirit’ are are not covered in Final Fantasy VII and appear to be used interchangeably. Still, Bugenhagen speaks of people’s “consciousness, hearts and souls” as common elements that define personality, emotion, and will: a reasonable account of the nature of a soul. According to Bugenhagen, people’s souls return to a pool in the Planet called the Lifestream where they “merge with one another… roam, converge, and divide…” So, it seems that we are presented with two options when people return to the planet: souls remain intact, retaining personality, emotion, and will; or they meld, shedding their unique characteristics, and become one homogeneous pool of ‘Spirit energy.’

In the first case we would be talking about reincarnation, where a soul coming from a person could be used for a new tree, or where the soul coming from an animal could be used to give birth to a human child. Indeed, Hinduism teaches samsara (reincarnation) and the worldview of Final Fantasy VII has many ties to Hinduism.

Otherwise, as seemingly illustrated by Bugenhagen’s holographic video, the life energy from a human would combine with that from trees and birds, and when another life begins, energy from the Planet is used, whether it came from a tree or an insect or both. All ‘Spirit energy’ is the same. In this case, the personality of a person would somehow begin when he is born and would disappear when he dies.

These topics may seem nitpicky in isolation, but they provide the foundation for further discussion of Planet Life.

Concerns

There are several issues that I believe need clarification in order to solidify the plot of Final Fantasy VII:

Recycling of souls

In the previous section we looked at two ways of interpreting the nature of the Lifestream. Because their premises are mutually exclusive, we need to decide which theory best fits the story. Following are several reasons why the concept of souls returning to the Planet and being reused for new life is cumbersome to the story:

First, there is very little evidence in the script to support the philosophy of reincarnation. Remember that we defined a ‘soul’ as the personality, emotions, and will of a person. While the Lifestream is referred to as “a path of energy of the souls roaming the Planet”, there are no good examples of a soul remaining in the Lifestream after death and being reborn as the same soul into another body.

It may be my lack of imagination, but I find it difficult to believe that the soul of an animal or a tree could be equivalent to that of a human, blessed with gifts such as free will and the ability to feel happiness, anger, love, et cetera. I grant that, in fantasy stories such as this one, there needs to be an allowance for characters like Nanaki who are not human but who possess traits of emotion and choice. Likewise, it would not have been inconceivable for the plot to have included characters like tree or river spirits with human-like personality. The point here is that there is a difference between a living thing and a living, thinking, feeling, willing thing: the difference being the soul.

It becomes very complicated to think about the Lifestream in terms of separate, conscious souls. Take for example Sephiroth’s plan to absorb the Planet’s ‘Spirit energy’ (the Lifestream’s currently unallocated souls). What is Sephiroth going to do with such a collection of willful souls other than to wind up with a multiple-personality disorder of planetary proportions? Would thinking souls be willing to cooperate with him?

I guess the real problem I have with the idea of reincarnation in this story is that it traps people’s souls in an infinite loop; they progress from one life to the next with the highest goal being to keep life crawling on the face of the Planet and hopefully have fun doing it. The characters are going to need a higher calling than that to do the kinds of things required by this great tale.

Question of morality

If the Planet’s cycle of life is the highest authority to which the inhabitants of the Planet must answer and it falls short of addressing the issue of morality, then what defines ‘good’ and ‘evil’ in Final Fantasy VII? Judging by what is revealed in the script of the game, there is little reason to condemn Sephiroth for pursuing his goal of planetary domination and destruction. If the only thing people look forward to at the end of their physical life is “returning to the Planet” then why wouldn’t Sephiroth want to become a god if he could?

It can be difficult to separate ourselves from inherent notions of morality (like how it’s ‘just wrong’ to kill someone), but in Final Fantasy VII—as in real life—we need to ask exactly what tells us whether something is good or bad.

For Sephiroth (e.g.) to be a truly evil character, there has to be some way of measuring his evilness. Otherwise, the protagonists of the story are cheated; we expect them to sacrifice themselves for some cause simply because it would make for an enjoyable storyline.

When there is no moral standard in life, we end up with cases like the Shinra Electric Company and Vincent Valentine. On one hand, Shinra takes advantage of its political power and places itself above morality; nothing is wrong for Shinra because it has the power to do whatever it pleases. On the other hand, Vincent feels so guilty about past events that he makes a list of his ‘sins’ (which include choices made by other people) for which he feels he must ‘atone’ by spending years in miserable seclusion. In both of these cases, people are fabricating an artificial idea of what morality should be because no absolute moral standard exists. This is ultimately a pointless exercise if people’s eventual destiny is to be reduced to ‘Spirit energy’.
So, we are faced with a problem; the Theory of Planet Life alone cannot be used to determine a moral standard, yet characters in the story obviously require one.

Insignificance of outcome

The knowledge of the Ancients swirling around here is telling me one thing… The Planet’s in a crisis: a crisis beyond human power or endless time. (Bugenhagen)

The importance of the story’s worldview is that it will set the stakes for the characters involved and make their trials significant and believable. When our protagonists are faced with the death of loved ones and the prospect of sacrificing their own lives for some greater good, they will need answers to tough questions and good reasons for self-sacrifice.

In the storyline of Final Fantasy VII, we’re faced with two possibilities: the Planet dies on its own, or some ‘evil’ force ends its life.

If Sephiroth, Jenova, Meteor, and ‘evil’ things in general are defeated, the Planet (along with its inhabitants) will still die—eventually, as explained by Bugenhagen—and its ‘Spirit energy’ will assumedly go on to future planetary endeavors.

Or, presuming Sephiroth knows what he’s talking about and his stated plan succeeds, the Planet will likely die (due to the acute injury caused by Meteor) and its Spirit energy will somehow be fused with Sephiroth, making him extremely powerful: “a god” in his words.

If we are objective—not assuming that Sephiroth is ‘evil’ because he is the antagonist, or that the story should have ‘a happy ending’—there isn’t much of a reason for Cloud and his buddies to fight for one case or the other. Either way, the Planet and its inhabitants die. Either way, living things become ‘Spirit energy’ at the end of their lives and are used to fulfill some other purpose.

An example

Tifa: Cloud? Do you think the stars can hear us? Do you think they see how hard we’re fighting for them?

Cloud: I dunno… but… whether they are or not, we still have to do what we can. And believe in ourselves… Someday we’ll find the answer. Right, Tifa?

This is an example of how, even after all of Bugenhagen’s talk of the beauty of Planet Life, people are still clueless about the meaning of their existence. The dialog comes from the very end of the game after Cloud and Tifa have survived crisis after crisis against incredible odds; they are spending a last night together before facing the toughest, most terrifying enemy they will likely ever know. Are they still hanging their hopes on stars? Do they actually believe that they have come so far by simply believing in their confused, lost selves? Is that what we should glean from this incredible epic: wish upon a star, look within yourself, and hope that maybe, someday, we’ll find the answer?

Even in a fantasy world, I don’t buy it. There is no point in writing such a serious story if it doesn’t teach us something real about our own lives.

Suggestions

The story of Final Fantasy VII is amazing in its depth and complexity, but also in its ability to address real-life issues like morality, life, death, and the spiritual nature of people. The tale was beautifully executed on the Sony Playstation, and there is very little that I would want added or excluded from the original telling. Having said that, I still feel that the impact of potentially monumental plot elements is tarnished by the underlying worldview’s lack of follow-through. So, in searching for the story’s missing piece, I kept in mind the aim of changing as little as possible.

Indeed, the solution I offer is relatively simple. It fits one extra element into the plot’s montage with the goal of enhancing the Theory of Planet Life and allowing the story to soar to new levels of meaning.

I propose the existence of an omnipotent, benevolent, personal overseer in the world of Final Fantasy VII: an eternal ‘God’ who is responsible for the original inception of life as well as the ongoing granting and reclamation of souls. This God is as intimately involved with the cycle of life on the Planet as the Lifestream itself.

As I said, this would be a subtle addition and a replacement for only a select few plot elements. The solution does not replace the Lifestream or even require a lot of evidence of religion or worship to be dropped into the story. It is the concept that is important, and I will explain how it solves the issues discussed in the first part of this article.

Value for souls

We’ve talked a lot about souls, but we have yet to conclude on exactly how they should fit into the story. We decided that the Lifestream should not actually be made up of people’s disembodied consciousnesses but rather of a uniform life energy: the substance that gives physical life to all creatures (we could call it Spirit energy to be consistent with Bugenhagen, although I would prefer the term life energy). But where then do a human’s personality, emotion, and will come from?

What if souls were hand-crafted by a loving deity, combined with the magic of the Lifestream’s energy to create a unique person. What if each person was breathed into existence with a specific destiny in mind: not just fluke happenstance but a truly meaningful, intelligent purpose. Think of the source of strength and perseverance this would be to a character. I propose such an arrangement.

A moral standard

A righteous, unchanging deity is the perfect way to measure true and false in the story. This God is perfect and stands for everything that is right. As a result, anything that is against him or what he stands for is wrong. It isn’t hard to assume that a God would place value on his creation: the Planet and its inhabitants. This gives absolute grounds, for example, to condemn the Shinra Company and Sephiroth for having no care for the health and preservation of the Planet.

This is different than saying, “Well, it’s wrong to hurt the Planet because people need it to survive.” That’s a good reason for protecting the Planet, for sure. But to say that it is wrong assumes that we are making a judgment based on something that is right, always has been right, and always will be right.

Justice

I also suggest, when a person dies, that their Spirit energy returns to the planet but that their soul goes to meet a righteous God. This adds accountability and justice; people can no longer live with the impression that nothing matters in the end, or that they will not be held accountable for their actions. Likewise, people like Cloud and Aeris can be encouraged that the suffering they endure for the sake of what is right will have eternal significance. I won’t go into details of afterlife. Suffice it to say that everyone will have to give an account for the use they made of their time on the Planet.

Bridging the gap

As I’ve said before, Final Fantasy VII is a very deep story; yet it sets itself apart from other stories in its ability to be thoroughly enjoyable no matter which level you choose to focus on. Whether you’re fighting baddies and collecting materia, getting to know the characters and their different perspectives on life, or delving into the beautifully tangled plotline, there is always so much to ponder.

After beginning to understand the storyline of the game (sort of), I found myself strolling down the path of Final Fantasy VII’s spiritual imagery. The beginning few glimpses I got of this territory were fascinating: the connection between Sephiroth, Cloud, and Jenova; Aeris’s sensitivity to things unseen.

Suddenly I came to a cliff, dropping off into a deep canyon. To my left I could see Bugenhagen’s Planet Life observatory ledge, which reached out from the precipice but only spanned half of the gap. I felt I was being held back from a great adventure; even from where I stood, I could see the other side: beautiful, possibly uncharted country extending past the horizon. There must be a way, I thought.

For those who care to venture, I don’t believe Bugenhagen’s theory is enough to get us to the bottom of the story’s message. I wrote this article in an attempt to bridge the gap between Final Fantasy VII and where it wants to go.