Most of us have some childhood memories of games – whether it’s Pokémon Blue, Tetris or Super Mario Bros. When we dust off those old consoles, games often trigger memories of our lives beyond the screen.
In his heart-wrenching series of poems, If all the world and love were young, Stephen Sexton poetically translated this idea into practice. Published in 2019, the book connects one of his most difficult experiences, his mother’s illness and death, with his favorite game, Super Mario World.
We were lucky enough to have the opportunity to interview Stephen and ask him about his extraordinary collection of poetry, the presence of games in literature and what he plays now.
Nintendo Life: How did the idea for If All the World and Love Were Young come about?
Stephen Sexton: I started it by accident. As part of a creative writing PhD project, I was writing poems in response to paintings or photographs and I was getting increasingly bored. In a fit of mischief, I thought, why not take a famous picture instead of a classic one?
I think we all feel, on some level, like Super Mario World is our personal space
Out of nowhere, in fact, the landscapes of Super Mario World appeared. It’s my favorite game, and I think it’s the most perfect. I started writing a song for each level, from Yoshi’s Island to the Forest of Illusion, treating them like real places. Partly, I felt increasingly drawn to memories of playing, in my house in the country, looking out the window at the ‘real’ world. I mother was still alive then (she died in 2012) and the longer I thought about my childhood, the more I thought about her. Suddenly, I was writing a book about grief—something that was so deeply buried that I had to trick myself into writing about it.
Can you tell us something about the contrast between the playfulness of the game and the seriousness of grief and love?
The book is about my mother’s illness and death, mirrored on a trip to Super Mario World. The speaker of these poems cannot see a cactus wandering Yoshi’s Island without thinking of needles and chemotherapy. They cannot enter a haunted house without thinking of their own house, lonely and haunted.
Grief does strange things to the world: it makes it both unreal and hyperreal; the death of a parent makes you more aware of your childhood, but also, suddenly, of your adulthood. For me, this book is caught between those two positions: the unadulterated play and silliness of childhood, juxtaposed with the worlds of adulthood: old age and illness, loss and responsibility.
And you connected many locations in the game with real space?
Through the book and the game, there is a path from home to the unknown. Yoshi’s Island is a kind of domestic space, so all the Yoshi’s Island songs are full of images from the actual place where I grew up. As the game goes outward, to Donut Plains, I looked at Northern Ireland, where I live, which is not unlike Donut Plains: there is a lough in the middle, some famous caves in the west ( Marble Arch Caves in Fermanagh – Donut Plains 2), the famous rope bridge on the north coast (Carrick-a-Rede). From there I followed the story I’m telling – Vanilla Dome underground becomes the place of hypnosis and surgery, then the top of the mountain. The Forest of Illusion becomes a strange new world; Bowser’s Valley depicts Bowser as a kind of figure of death. I could go on!
Your collection gives language to the distinctive visual style of Super Mario World, with lovely lyrical descriptions: ‘carnivorous plants’, ‘veins of ivy, ‘joyous blue and white puffer fish’… Can you talk a little about the imagery in your songs?
I decided not to break the lines – to have this energetic, ringing propulsion that mimics Mario’s movements
I’m glad you think so! It was incredibly important to me to try to make my language reflect what it feels like to watch or play Super Mario World. It was not enough to tell the story of the match. The most striking quality of the SMW is its look and feel. I set out to do something interesting with the look and feel of these songs as well as their sounds; the lyrics of the songs are quite intense in their string of words. SMW is also fluid, so I decided not to break the lines – to have this energetic, rattling drive mimic Mario’s movements.
So you were, in a way, turning the levels into poetry?
On one level, I think of If All the World and Love Were Young as a kind of translation: I intended to find a way in English (and in poetry) to represent playing that game, especially as an adult looking back on my childhood and everything that happened in between . That’s really what this book is about: trying to capture what it feels like to look back on childhood.
Did you rewatch and play the game while writing?
I did. To begin with, I studied the screenshots and tried to remind myself of the textures and colors of Mario’s world, but one of its great triumphs is that feels they like to play the game. There is no way to appreciate it just by looking. So yes, I spent many, many hours of literary research playing Super Mario World.
What was that experience like, playing the game again as an adult?
What surprised me was how automatic it was. Its physics, conventions and puzzles were already part of my memory, there was nothing I had to relearn. I found this amazing and, in a way, reassuring.
As a technology enthusiast, I’m fascinated by what the creators of Super Mario World managed to do with such a small (compared to today) amount of RAM. I wanted to intertwine the machine’s memory—fixed, unchanging—with my own memories. The game became my mnemonic device: through it I was able to recall moments from my childhood that I had forgotten: fiddling with the cables on the back of the TV when we first turned on the Nintendo, walking through the Special World – a kind of glimpse into the afterlife of the game, I always thought. So much of my childhood was there, waiting for me to return.
Did you notice something in the game then that you didn’t before?
Yes, one thing I have determined is that the Koopas must be a version of the kappa – a Japanese mythological creature with a bowl of water on its head, which can be defeated by spilling water on it. Maybe by jumping on his head…?
Have you played many other Nintendo games? And what are you playing now?
I’ve spent a lot of time with Pokémon over the years. I remember the first frenzy! And of course, Mario’s former nemesis, Donkey Kong. Nintendo’s talent for feel is second to none. I’ve been enjoying the new Zelda games recently – they are profound achievements in adventure and thrill. But some of the most exciting experiences I’ve ever had were playing Super Mario Kart with my brother at our house. We know every centimeter of those tracks; every tendency and tactic of our fellow runners. I couldn’t tell you how many laps I’ve driven on those tracks, or how many times I’ve won or lost. Almost nothing touches the excitement of those races.
What was the response from Mario fans?
Many of Mario’s fans have been extremely generous and enthusiastic about the book, which is a real thrill. Often our relationship with the screen and controller is ours alone. For that reason, I think we all feel, on some level, like Super Mario World is our own private space. With this book, I’ve taken that idea pretty far: my Super Mario world now has one of the most meaningful and difficult experiences of my life wrapped around its code. So I realize that there is a big responsibility to make my version of SMW recognizable to other people and respect the Super Mario worlds of my fellow players. In a way, there are as many Yoshi’s Islands as there are players; we all enter that space ourselves.
That’s really interesting. I think many of us find games to be a source of comfort in difficult times. Would you say this is true for you?
a video game can be a highly engaging, imaginative experience: players are inventive and curious, able to interpret signs and symbols. These are skills that poetry readers also have.
That is definitely true. What games represent, or rather what Super Mario World represents for me, is a kind of stability. Although it is a different world from the ‘real’ world, it exists in our ‘real world’ so when our lives become complicated or frustrating or sad, we long for something fixed and familiar. Sometimes people see video games as an escape from reality. I’ve never liked that idea, and I imagine a lot of players don’t either. Games are not separate from our lives; these are not things we retreat from. We are active and present playing video games, focused and thoughtful.
I didn’t want to run away from the experience of grief, no matter how hard it was. I desperately wanted not to forget it. And so many experiences remain in my memories of SMW. At a time of tremendous emotional stress, SMW was much more real to me than my real life.
Have find that there is a lot of overlap between poetry readers and Mario players?
There were people who may not read poetry who came to the book for Mario. But it doesn’t surprise me that people who like video games might like poetry or literature more broadly. Sometimes people who don’t understand video games think it’s a passive experience, someone sitting in front of a screen and doing nothing. What we do know is that a video game can be a highly engaging, imaginative experience: players are inventive and curious, able to interpret signs and symbols. These are skills that poetry readers also have.
I agree. Do you think you would include game links in your future writing?
Mario is always special, but yes, I expect video games to continue to be part of my writing or video game techniques. Everyone can learn so much from games, about how to welcome a reader or viewer.
But in general, my early imagination was formed by games, much more than TV, for example. The difference is in activity and passivity. The first experiences with art or painting, apart from bedtime stories, were related to play. For me, play is an essential element of writing or creating.
And, on that note, any easter eggs you’ve included for savvy fans?
Oh, hundreds. We all know how much gamers love Easter eggs. There’s the idea of questions floating in the air, one way of showing the unusual boxes that float through Mario’s world. I made the murmuration of the starlings (which perform their rapturous flights around Belfast Bridge) to resemble Shigeru Miyamoto’s thumbprint.
One of the most touching parts of that game for me is the moment in the Funky level where the game says ‘You’re a great player!’ !’ in coins. When I first saw it, I was a little underwhelmed. The game knows I’m here, I thought to myself. This humble moment of the fourth wall blew me away, so I wanted to do the same in my book. So much of the book’s journey is from childhood to experience: becoming self-aware, as the game seems to do at that point, as well as the names of the levels in the special zone: Tubular, Mondo, Way Cool. At that moment, the book addresses the reader directly and thanks him – as I thank you now – for being my companion.
Many thanks to Stephen for taking the time to speak with us.
If All the World and Love Were Young was published by Penguin and is available in all good bookstores, and probably in some bad ones too – if such things can exist. And if you have a subscription to Nintendo Switch Online, Super Mario World is available to play on Switch.
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