Over-thinking Zelda: The Economy of Ocarina of Time, Part Two
Posted on August 14 2015 by Rod Lloyd

At first glance, the relationship between
Well, over-thinking it is what I do best. So let’s take a look at what context Ocarina of Time gives us on economy and production, and take a look at just how much Kakariko Village
Kakariko Village
In Part One, we discussed how
Kakariko’s introduction reveals its own economic values in a similar way.
When Link first walks through Kakariko’s gate, he quickly realizes the differences between this village and the
A Home for the Common
So what creates this type of environment?
Well, what better way to start looking at a community’s social system than by looking at the ideologies it was historically built upon? According to sources within the town, Kakariko used to be an exclusively “Sheikah village” before Impa “opened it to everyone.” But more specifically, according to select villagers within Kakariko, Impa opened the village “to the common people.”
Now, the term “common people” could be referring to a few different things. It could easily refer to those that are not of the Sheikah Tribe — those common because they don’t have a divine obligation to serve the Royal Family… and those common because they don’t have spooky shadow powers.
The Sheikah have spooky shadow powers, right?
But another interpretation one could find in the term “common” is the implication of wealth, or lack thereof. Those deemed “common” could be those too penniless and marginalized for the bustling, market-based

The exact meaning of “poor” matters little, because the end result is the same: the people of Kakariko were once decided unfit to live in
We’ve already discussed a possible class system that has developed in
There are “poor” people and there are not-so-poor people — low classes and high classes. We can’t run from that.
By looking at the contrast between the inhabitants of Kakariko and those of
Sociologist Émile Durkheim would say the formations of such communities reflect a social “solidarity,” stemming “from likeness” amongst a group. In the ever-so-complicated The Division of Labour in Society, he would describe this phenomenon — called “mechanical solidarity” — as “the collective conscience completely [enveloping] our whole conscience and coincides in all points with it.” Thus by accepting this relationship, “we are no longer ourselves, but the collective life.”
…What?
In laymen’s terms, societies like this — those characterized by small, defined classes — group like-minded people together. People who feel like they share life struggles, in whatever way, tend to identify themselves as a single social group, thus forming a class.

From their acknowledged “likeness,” the people of a class no longer view themselves as independent individuals, but rather as members of a “collective.” Like a machine with many parts, the members of a group can now work together with a single goal in mind. This “collective conscious” — the singular attitude of everyone — no longer works separately, but completely works for the absolute betterment of the group. The struggles of each individual are now the struggles of the collective.

Kakariko
The “common” people of Hyrule all had something in common. And because they had “common” in common, they decided to band together, move away from
It all comes down to Love. Isn’t Nintendo grand?
A Communal Focus
So what do we conclude from these common people leaving
Well, we can certainly agree that the commoners sought Kakariko as some kind of alternative to the lifestyles in
In contrast to those in
These matters are very different in nature to those found in
Not once do any of the people of Kakariko mention money or bargains or sales. While the people of
They seem to more worry about their passions, their lifestyles, and their happiness.
Not convinced yet? No problem; let’s discuss the modes of production in
If you can recall, the modes of production are the ways in which products are bought and sold. Generally, a merchant will produce a whole bunch of a certain item of value — a commodity — with the intent to sell. Depending on how these processes work out, a society finds itself functioning in a particular economic system.
Well that’s the thing; Kakariko doesn’t seem to produce very much of anything, let alone for sale. But of course in a world where money magically sprouts from cut grass, who really needs to produce anything, right?
Regardless, let’s break this down.
The Chicken Lady obviously raises cuccos, so eggs and tasty meat could be a commodity. But never does she express a desire to sell these things; she instead offers to barter glass bottles for the lives of these animals. This woman’s chicken farming is notably different from Lon Lon Ranch, which also raises cuccos (“Super Cuccos” in fact) and is seen to trade extensively with
The Potion Shop is implied to sell herbs, remedies, and medicines; it is a shop after all. But never once in all of Child Link’s travels can he actually enter the shop, let alone buy anything. A door conveniently placed on the shop’s door reveals that its owner is “gone for a Field Study.” The implications of sales and commodities are present here, but the player cannot act on them. It’s almost as if the game is holding the player back from these commodities to prove a point.
I suppose the Graveyard could be used to produce income, as Dampé or whoever else may charge for burial space. That would make him a monopolist! Or maybe the Royal Family shells out some rupees every so often for graveyard maintenance, which would make sense considering their massive tomb is housed there. Regardless, other than run a grave-digging game for children in the middle of night (something that sounds extremely illegal), Dampé is shown to produce very little.
Then there’s the Windmill, which is said to draw water for the well. But to whom would they sell water? Probably not the

Whatever the case, the Kakariko that exists pre-Ganondorf produces very, very little from a consumption standpoint. In fact, nowhere in
Ocarina of Time is purposely presenting Kakariko in this way, dictating the player’s every encounter with would-be shopkeepers. Rather than allow the player to purchase and sell things as it did in
Simply given the player’s actual experiences,
In essence, Kakariko is purposely set up to oppose — to be the opposite — of
Perhaps that is why the “common” villagers are shown to have left the materialistic pursuits of the growing consumerism in
their community’s formation to identify distaste for the Castle’s appetite in wealth. And perhaps these attitudes are meant to reject such a system and establish something contrary to it, something more communal for example.
The system by which
I am merely saying that that the village functions more like commune, where the community is self-contained, self-maintained, and self-sufficient. It is a humble settlement self-removed from the bustling trade of
Let’s explain things a little deeper, shall we?
Throughout history, communal lands have served as territories in possession of a community, rather than an individual. This obviously differs from most modern-day systems of land ownership, as land is now generally owned privately. Traditionally, communal lands of the past were “officially” owned by the church or a king, but the people actually lived and worked there in exchange for taxes.
Now,
Regardless of the tax situation, the fact remains that
And what does this difference show us?
It shows that the resources produced and utilized within Kakariko bypass the motivations of greed and the senses of entitlement we saw in
A Punishment for Greed
So Kakariko treats its resources differently from
In fact,

Upon poking around
We’ll never know exactly who or what cursed this family, what force sat in judgment of this greedy group of people. But as we see that no one necessarily objects to their punishment, we conclude that the curse was brought upon the family justly. The villagers simply accept that the family’s punishment was naturally the right decision, as if the inherent law of nature dictated it. Thus we are left with an objective view of greed as an absolutely egregious sin — a sin that naturally deserves retribution.
The story of this cursed family ends with the cautionary line: “Who knows what might happen to those who are consumed by greed…”
What does happen?

We may never know.
Anyway, the Skulltula family maintains Ocarina of Time‘s themes of unrestrained wealth and resulting greed, the very same themes we discussed in Part 1. Just like in
The player is expected to see the link between wealth and greed, and to understand that those who live with such things are to expect a negative outcome.
The Skulltula family’s house is left in Kakariko village untouched, as if as a reminder to those who live there. The villagers are to be reminded and warned of the horrors that await them if they too accept a “fabulously rich” lifestyle, characterized by an underlying motivation of greed. The family’s cursed house — securely stationed within the village for all to see — represents the fears that the village was established to oppose. The villagers see the house, understand its significance, and reflect upon the vices that brought on its destruction.
And this structure is not the only reminder of Kakariko’s past of avarice. Hidden deep underneath Kakariko’s graveyard lies the
First off, this description heard in the
The words we hear in the temple also describe the “bloody history” resulting from and inspired by greed and hatred. We can infer that Hyrule’s past — which has encountered war and conflicts of many kinds (some based on coveting for the Triforce) — can be characterized by violence and bloodshed simply because of Hyrulian greed and hatred.
This bloody history — this remembrance of violence based on greed and hatred — is situated at the base of Kakariko. The village’s very foundation is built upon the dark events that surround and are “gathered” within the
In this way, the Skulltula family and the Shadow Temple further motivate Kakariko’s movement away from money and wealth, and more toward an outright rejection of such things. These monuments are strong examples of the town’s economic philosophies.
And just as Link is expected to respond when the Skulltula Family’s patriarch offers him a choice (“If you break the curse on my family, we will make you very rich,”), so too is players are expected to consider their reactions to the wealth and greed confronting them.
But let’s be honest; we all just want that giant’s wallet, right?

An Alienation of Labor
Let’s talk about the Carpenters now, shall we?

One of the first people Link encounters in the village is Mutoh, the “boss of the carpenters.” Mutoh explains that he and his crew were “hired [by Impa] to improve this village and make it into a true city!” This sentiment of a “true city” is even shared by a Hyrule guard stationed at Kakariko’s gate; he says that Kakariko may have “small population now, but someday [the] place will be as lively as
Mutoh and his crew have set out on a large construction project to improve and expand the city. They are the ideal image of labor and the working class.
However, Mutoh (being the grump he is) is not slow to express frustration with his procrastinate crew. He complains that his “workers are just running around the village, and they’re not making any progress at all…” They are just so lazy and unreliable! These all sound like acceptable concerns for an employer to have; he wants his employees to work diligently and complete the task they are getting paid for.
But his carpenters are not the only people that Mutoh chooses to complain about. He continues on to make general statements about the younger generation of working class men; he states that “young men these days don’t have ambition,” implying the laziness of more than just his carpenters. Mutoh then offers an even more personal example to show the generation’s workless attitudes; he says, “even my own son doesn’t have a job…”
Mutoh, the authority of the working class, shows absolute contempt for the new generation of laborers. “They’re all worthless I tell you!” he shouts at Link, almost as if he is warning the young boy of the evils of procrastination and laziness. Why else would he vent his labor frustrations with a ten-year-old?
Through these words, Mutoh is obviously someone who values a hardworking attitude and movement toward progress. When certain individuals act contrary to these ideals, or display a general disregard for them, the carpenter boss naturally shares his unkind words with whoever is there to listen. He offers a strong, authoritative opinion of labor within
However, the player is soon to find that there is another popular perspective of labor in this setting, one that is much more critical.
If Link happens to speak to one of the many carpenters frolicking around Kakariko, he will find a general distaste for hard labor. They will share about how “all day long [they] are working on many construction projects in the village,” and how their “boss works [them] very hard!” Pretty much on point with what Mutoh said, these gentlemen express very little enthusiasm for the tenants of hard work, ambition, and progress.
Interestingly, the attitudes of these carpenters resemble a certain mechanism within the working class of today’s world. By their tone and tendency to put off work in favor of frolicking, the carpenters obviously don’t enjoy the jobs they do; but there’s even more to interpret from their presentation in Ocarina of Time.
In the Economic and Philosophic Manuscripts of 1844, Karl Marx (Oh no, Rod’s talking about that stuff again) outlined a particular theory concerning the “alienation of labor.” In perhaps the most complicated way possible, Marx described the temperament of the worker in a capitalist society. Now again, I’m not saying Hyrule is a capitalist society; but I do recognize similar goals between capitalism and the “true” future of Mutoh. Both value the idea of progress, of personal initiative, and of individualized labor.
So the theory of alienated labor can be applied to the carpenters (if we try really hard to make it work).
Marx discussed how workers — by human nature — want to be fulfilled by the work they do. Each of our “species-essence” desires the psychological satisfaction of a “job well down.” However, when workers function in a capitalist system — where laborers perform an endless process of tedious, mechanical, and discrete labor actions for restricted wages — they are frequently denied that sense of satisfaction. Thus they are “alienated” or estranged by the labor they produce, on multiple different levels.
The carpenters in Kakariko are clearly alienated by their labor.
Marx would describe estranged labor on four different levels, and the carpenters most occupy two of those levels. The first is easy to understand: being alienated by the labor itself. The more the carpenters are asked to work — to perform the mechanical production of labor — the less and less they feel a satisfying connection to that work. The work no longer feels like it belongs to them, they become less proud of the work they do, and they no longer enjoy or want to do that work anymore. This is probably why they appear lazy or procrastinate, and why they are constantly finding excuses to frolic and avoid the work ascribed to th
em.
This type of estrangement is what contributes to the carpenters’ desire for “a job where you can make a lot of money without much effort.”
The second type of alienation the carpenters experience is perhaps the most severe; it involves the alienation of the laborer from his or herself. Marx identified a certain aspect of our human nature — our species essence — whereby we all have a tendency to engage in activities that encourage our basic survival and psychological well-being. They want to do things that make them happy.
However, when workers are forced to engage in the tedious labors of capitalism, they find themselves deprived of these satisfactions. They instead feel less and less valued as a human being, which is really sad.
Furthermore, the labor these workers produce contributes to certain forms of moral deterioration. After stating that they want an occupation that will “make a lot of money without much effort,” the carpenters conclude that the “only thing [they] can think of is thievery.” The only opportunity to resolve the alienation and frustration they feel in and towards their labor is in a life of crime.
“Is that a bad idea?” they ask.

Probably.
Marx saw the mechanical production of labor — where workers are forced to perform their labor in an exhaustive, repetitive way — as a process by which workers ultimately become less human. They instead work like a machine, a dehumanized object that’s sole purpose is to work. There’s no longer a distinction between the worker — the “subject” — and the product of his labor — the “object.” The worker becomes an object, no longer a human.
So the carpenters act like machines, even more so than they would if they were normal N64 NPC’s.
By working strenuously, tediously, and endlessly on their construction projects, the carpenters become less like humans and more like the buildings they work on. Their humanity is depleted and placed into the object they created through labor; and that object can’t even express humanity after the job is finished. With their humanity gone, the carpenters no longer value the human laws established in Hyrule. They want to become lawless thieves, and thus escape the labor they feel alienated by.
With the carpenters, we have two perspectives on hard labor. We have the alienation of the crew, and we have the progress-focus of Mutoh. Both seem like valid responses to the work confronting a person, so the player is ultimately left to decide which perspective they most support.

But I will say this: the game seemingly sets up the carpenters to be more sympathetic than Mutoh. The boss is introduced with his arms crossed and eyes squinted, constantly yelling at the things that upset him; whereas the carpenters (while lazy) share much more relatable stories of woe and desperation. I won’t decide for you, but I firmly believe Ocarina of Time is presenting the carpenters as to illustrate the dangers of economic progress.
Expansion and progress are noble pursuits within a society, but they can easily prove detrimental for the workers that perform the labor. The carpenters appear frustrated and trapped by the work they produce, but they can at least enjoy a degree of freedom in
In this way, Kakariko serves as a retreat from the labor processes that take place in Hyrule. Just as the village offers alternatives to the processes of wealth seen in
A Generous Solution
In several different ways, Child Link’s encounters in
When Link returns to Kakariko after pulling the Master Sword, he finds that the future of “progress” that Mutoh professed has in some ways come to be. The buildings are bigger, the population has increased, and Link can actually buy a danged potion now. Even the beggar from
But why would Ocarina of Time combine these two very different communities?
Excluding the new and improved
Through these settlements, the game seemed to present two opposing perspectives.
In every way, Ocarina of Time presented the village to confront the issues brought up through
So why would Ocarina of Time ultimately bring these two societies together? What’s really changed?
Well, in essence, the new Kakariko that adult Link has discovered actually offers the definitive solution to
This point is effectively illustrated in the attitudes of the villagers. When Link visits Kakariko’s de facto inn (a repurposed house), the owner admits that she’s “been feeling so charitable these days!” She has been compelled by an innate force (sort of like the unnamed force that punished the Skulltula house) to exercise charity and kindness. She then asks the question, “don’t you feel this way, too!”
Well, do you?

If you really think about it, this is the attitude of the entire village after Ganondorf destroyed
One might have expected the people of
Ultimately, expressing these feelings is the purpose of
Ocarina of Time identifies an element of the human condition that is infatuated with the accumulation of wealth and pursuit of monetary success. In acting on these interests, people are shown to put themselves and society at risk of significant problems. The game outlines these pursuits through
In the end, the villagers of Kakariko — old and new — represent the importance of kindness and generosity. As cornball as it sounds, the village acts as a place that will welcome people of all backgrounds, maintain a community of shared resources, and offer relief from the frustrating works of progress. Sure, Kakariko may also challenge or even punish the transgressions of greed, but it will just as easily proclaim the importance of charity and goodwill.
Just like the selfless hero whose adventure we lead in Ocarina of Time — a hero willing to help any stranger he encounters — the
These sentiments are certainly important to the legacy of Ocarina of Time, and perceptive players are left to consider their placement in society.

- Hyrule History – Kakariko Village by CaptainSpaz
- Kakariko Village Morning by ArtistArtorias
- Mutoh .gif by OoT gifs
- Kakariko Village by Kairi-Chu
- Legend of Zelda: Kakariko Village by Minionslayer
- Banner by Adam Cohen


