Also, based on her tongue, she may be ill. Also, based on this take on Donkey Kong, I’m wondering if he could be a blood relation to John C. Reilly.
The various Kongs, previously:
Showing posts with label donkey kong. Show all posts
Showing posts with label donkey kong. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 5, 2014
Donkey Kong and the Damsel in No Distress Whatsoever
It doesn’t seem terribly productive to read anything into old arcade cabinet art, but that’s not exactly a look of horror on Pauline’s face as she’s being kidnapped, is it?
Also, based on her tongue, she may be ill. Also, based on this take on Donkey Kong, I’m wondering if he could be a blood relation to John C. Reilly.
The various Kongs, previously:
Also, based on her tongue, she may be ill. Also, based on this take on Donkey Kong, I’m wondering if he could be a blood relation to John C. Reilly.
The various Kongs, previously:
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Chariots of Kong
Worth noting: The composer of the Donkey Kong Country games owes a debt to to Vangelis’s “Antarctica,” at least for Donkey Kong Country 2’s Arctic Abyss stage. Compare:
If not for the sonic similarity, then that each were created to soundtrack beautiful, frozen lands.
If not for the sonic similarity, then that each were created to soundtrack beautiful, frozen lands.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
He Shoots What?
Um, check out the simian.
I know what Donkey Kong is doing here: He’s shooting bees from that jar, even though that’s not something he actually does in Donkey Kong 3. But I wish whoever designed the box art had chosen to color the jar differently then he colored D.K., because it’s a bit suggestive — and, consequently, a bit disturbing. Is this why Donkey Kong 3 wasn’t a success?
Suggestive apes, previously:
I know what Donkey Kong is doing here: He’s shooting bees from that jar, even though that’s not something he actually does in Donkey Kong 3. But I wish whoever designed the box art had chosen to color the jar differently then he colored D.K., because it’s a bit suggestive — and, consequently, a bit disturbing. Is this why Donkey Kong 3 wasn’t a success?
Suggestive apes, previously:
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
What Could Be Worse Than Eight-Bit Video Game Music?
I was easy to shop for in my younger days. I existed in such a perpetually video game-addled state that literally anything that had a Nintendo character slapped on it became the new best thing ever — at least next to actual video games. A Legend of Zelda binder? Awesome! A Super Mario board game that no one will ever want to play with me? Sounds great! Metroid pencils? All the better to write a list of additional video game-related merchandise that I want! I didn’t become picky — and therefore much more problematic around Christmas and my birthday — until later in my life, and I though have to shake my head at how dutifully I bought these shoddy products, I have to admit: There is something noble in being easy to shop for.
Not all these game-related knickknacks were necessarily terrible, however, and I recently discovered one in the back of the bookshelf at my parents’ home that brought back a few good memories.
This is it:
Yes, it’s one of those books of simplified sheet music with the keyboard-like instrument built right in. I say keyboard-like instrument because it’s not an actual keyboard, which would be able to make music, but instead something a lot like a keyboard — in the way that a Super Soaker is a lot like an assault rifle. Oh, and the noise this thing makes: horribly tinny, wavering notes. You could compare the sound to those greeting cards that play awful versions of popular songs when you open them, but those at least come preprogrammed with a melody. With the keyboard-like instrument, the responsibility of arranging the notes into a discernible melody falls on you.
Don’t fret, though, because you have a little help in picking out that ditty. As I mentioned, the book has sheet music with each note color-coded and numbered so that if you are not blind you could theoretically find the right notes in the right order. Theoretically. And did I mention that the whole book is Nintendo-themed?
Hit the jump for a strange intersection of old school Nintendo, music and kid culture.
Take this offering: “My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean” by way of Zelda II. Not the first association I’d make, but it’s not too far off really. Sure, the lyrics are dreadfully lame in a way that could even rankle a little kid, and it doesn’t surprise me that whoever wrote them is credited only as T. Ellis and not a full name that could come back to haunt someone with aspirations of an actual music career. But I can give that a pass — and I likely did, back in the day. What strikes me most about this page is the illustration. It and the rest that follow are surprisingly not too awful and not too off-model, despite the fact that presumably no one affiliated with Nintendo had much to do with them. I mean, yes, it’s the result of a hand-drawn amalgamation of two images from the Zelda II instruction booklet — specifically this one and this one — but they’re fused together pretty well, or at least better than eight-bit Nintendo games are with folk music. Maybe that Nintendo Seal of Quality on the cover belongs there after all.
Similar deal with this one: “Jingle Bells” by way of Super Mario Bros. 2. Because why not? I mean, Toad’s little mushroom hat looks wonky, but I like the result a lot more than lyrics such as “Little Toad takes a load, never slows him down” and “Princess has special skills, she is glad to share / If we need to jump real far or hover in mid-air.” But hey — at least someone read the instruction manual to the point that they have a basic understanding about how the game plays.
Again, this Donkey Kong art isn’t half bad. Perhaps most surprisingly, it’s the only Nintendo-sanctioned art I’ve ever seen in which Pauline looks like her original in-game sprite — you know, like a dowdy pioneer woman. And given that association, the paring of Donkey Kong with “Clementine” actually makes sense.
And then there’s this: A Metroid-flavored version of “The Hearse Song,” which I think I’ve only ever been aware of in relation to that one volume of Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark. You know, “The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out / The worms play pinochle in your snout”? And if I really must critique this book — and apparently I am making myself — then I have to question the artist’s decision to draw space monster Ridley — the one on the left — in a grinning, fetal form. Very weird, but no more so than appropriating a song that cautions children not to laugh at passing Hearses.
And now we come to “La Bamba,” unchanged from its original Spanish version and matched with the Super Mario Bros. 2 B-stringers in a desert setting, for no real reason. I suspect T. Ellis got lazy on this one, and in doing so brought down the quality of the book. I can remember trying to play this one and failing. I mean, look at the colored note numbers. Look at how many there are. This shit would be hard for any child to play, much less on the provided keyboard-like instrument, which, as I’ve said before, sounded terrible. If nothing else, this one provided a valuable service in that it would prompt nearby parents and older siblings to check the batteries in the smoke detectors, because SURELY that persistent ringing noise can’t be that music-toy-thing. Right? And again, I can’t help but to look at the art and wonder how this particular image came to be. The snake coming out of the jar is actually well-drawn, if curiously gendered, but as you move into the background things go downhill. What happened that that Pokey in the back needed to be created? Artist says, “Damn, I’m running out of the sand-colored marker and I need something else to go back there. Guess I’ll draw another one of those cactus things. But I’ll make it look all dopey and sad — you know, for kicks.”
I’m keeping my criticisms to myself for this one. The art looks pretty damn good. And the idea of substituting Death Mountain for Old Smokey? Genius.
The next page offers more Super Mario Bros. 2, which I suppose should I remind us that in 1989 we thought Mario 2 was the next big thing. Little did the people compiling this book realize that that people would come to think of it as the black sheep of the series and that Nintendo itself would prevent most of its key elements from becoming mainstays of later Mario games. The art isn’t bad. I’m not sure how we’re supposed to read Peach’s expression. I’d imagine she is supposed to look worried about the fact that Birdo was firing eggs at her crotch, but her face says to me something more like “Shit, I think I left the iron on.” Doo dah, doo dah. And those last two lines of the first verse are simply too amazing for words: “Look out for Princess Toadstool now / She’s radical and cool.” She really is.
“Frere Jacques”? No. I do not sing “Frere Jacques” without the compulsory “ding dang dong” at the end of the first verse. That’s classic songwriting you don’t screw with. And the accompanying art is a total abomination too. Remember when I said that the artist was running out of the sand-colored marker? I totally was telling the truth, because he or she clearly did not have enough to finish this piece. Nor was there enough ocean-color either, apparently. While we’re at it, why the hell are they all at the beach? There is no beach stage in the original Super Mario Bros. Did the artist also run out of grass color? Thank god all the blood color was used up before the artist could marker in the grisly aftermath of that Hammer Brother’s assault on the back of Peach’s head.
And as happy as I am to see Donkey Kong Jr. get some love, I have to condemn this one as well. When the hell did “Apples and Bananas” become a traditional? Shame on you, T. Ellis. You got lazy again! Learning how to pronounce your vowel sounds has no place in the Donkey Kong games. And neither does a weird version of Donkey Kong Senior who has fists spouting directly out of his shoulders.
That’s all of them. I suppose some of you game-brained readers might get a kick out of this. And if you do, please ponder this: If the people who made this book had the license to use Nintendo characters, then why didn’t they also get the license for the Nintendo music? Really, if you’re talking about early Nintendo games and music, the Super Mario Bros. and Legend of Zelda themes did as much to draw players in as the graphics. And wouldn’t it have been more rewarding to poke out the melody to these tunes than goddamn “Camptown Races?”
I can’t actually remember if I liked this book or not, though I do remember using it and attempting to learn the songs. Except for “La Bamba,” they weren’t too tough, even with the limited sonic capabilities of the keyboard-like instrument. Regardless of whether this ever actually entertained me, I should say that I at least was not the only one who ever made music with it. When I scanned the book to get these images, the keyboard-like instrument was occasionally pressed against the glass. As the scanning mechanism moved back and forth, capturing the image of whatever page was being scanned, it did so with enough pressure to play the keys. Being a machine designed to take pictures and not to celebrate the wonder that is music, it played without heed to melody or rhythm. As I was sitting there, waiting for the scan to finish, I wondered if I sounded any better when I last attempted to make music with this thing.
Game geek? Subscribe to the video games-only feed for Back of the Cereal Box.
Not all these game-related knickknacks were necessarily terrible, however, and I recently discovered one in the back of the bookshelf at my parents’ home that brought back a few good memories.
This is it:
Yes, it’s one of those books of simplified sheet music with the keyboard-like instrument built right in. I say keyboard-like instrument because it’s not an actual keyboard, which would be able to make music, but instead something a lot like a keyboard — in the way that a Super Soaker is a lot like an assault rifle. Oh, and the noise this thing makes: horribly tinny, wavering notes. You could compare the sound to those greeting cards that play awful versions of popular songs when you open them, but those at least come preprogrammed with a melody. With the keyboard-like instrument, the responsibility of arranging the notes into a discernible melody falls on you.
Don’t fret, though, because you have a little help in picking out that ditty. As I mentioned, the book has sheet music with each note color-coded and numbered so that if you are not blind you could theoretically find the right notes in the right order. Theoretically. And did I mention that the whole book is Nintendo-themed?
Hit the jump for a strange intersection of old school Nintendo, music and kid culture.
Take this offering: “My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean” by way of Zelda II. Not the first association I’d make, but it’s not too far off really. Sure, the lyrics are dreadfully lame in a way that could even rankle a little kid, and it doesn’t surprise me that whoever wrote them is credited only as T. Ellis and not a full name that could come back to haunt someone with aspirations of an actual music career. But I can give that a pass — and I likely did, back in the day. What strikes me most about this page is the illustration. It and the rest that follow are surprisingly not too awful and not too off-model, despite the fact that presumably no one affiliated with Nintendo had much to do with them. I mean, yes, it’s the result of a hand-drawn amalgamation of two images from the Zelda II instruction booklet — specifically this one and this one — but they’re fused together pretty well, or at least better than eight-bit Nintendo games are with folk music. Maybe that Nintendo Seal of Quality on the cover belongs there after all.
Similar deal with this one: “Jingle Bells” by way of Super Mario Bros. 2. Because why not? I mean, Toad’s little mushroom hat looks wonky, but I like the result a lot more than lyrics such as “Little Toad takes a load, never slows him down” and “Princess has special skills, she is glad to share / If we need to jump real far or hover in mid-air.” But hey — at least someone read the instruction manual to the point that they have a basic understanding about how the game plays.
Again, this Donkey Kong art isn’t half bad. Perhaps most surprisingly, it’s the only Nintendo-sanctioned art I’ve ever seen in which Pauline looks like her original in-game sprite — you know, like a dowdy pioneer woman. And given that association, the paring of Donkey Kong with “Clementine” actually makes sense.
And then there’s this: A Metroid-flavored version of “The Hearse Song,” which I think I’ve only ever been aware of in relation to that one volume of Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark. You know, “The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out / The worms play pinochle in your snout”? And if I really must critique this book — and apparently I am making myself — then I have to question the artist’s decision to draw space monster Ridley — the one on the left — in a grinning, fetal form. Very weird, but no more so than appropriating a song that cautions children not to laugh at passing Hearses.
And now we come to “La Bamba,” unchanged from its original Spanish version and matched with the Super Mario Bros. 2 B-stringers in a desert setting, for no real reason. I suspect T. Ellis got lazy on this one, and in doing so brought down the quality of the book. I can remember trying to play this one and failing. I mean, look at the colored note numbers. Look at how many there are. This shit would be hard for any child to play, much less on the provided keyboard-like instrument, which, as I’ve said before, sounded terrible. If nothing else, this one provided a valuable service in that it would prompt nearby parents and older siblings to check the batteries in the smoke detectors, because SURELY that persistent ringing noise can’t be that music-toy-thing. Right? And again, I can’t help but to look at the art and wonder how this particular image came to be. The snake coming out of the jar is actually well-drawn, if curiously gendered, but as you move into the background things go downhill. What happened that that Pokey in the back needed to be created? Artist says, “Damn, I’m running out of the sand-colored marker and I need something else to go back there. Guess I’ll draw another one of those cactus things. But I’ll make it look all dopey and sad — you know, for kicks.”
I’m keeping my criticisms to myself for this one. The art looks pretty damn good. And the idea of substituting Death Mountain for Old Smokey? Genius.
The next page offers more Super Mario Bros. 2, which I suppose should I remind us that in 1989 we thought Mario 2 was the next big thing. Little did the people compiling this book realize that that people would come to think of it as the black sheep of the series and that Nintendo itself would prevent most of its key elements from becoming mainstays of later Mario games. The art isn’t bad. I’m not sure how we’re supposed to read Peach’s expression. I’d imagine she is supposed to look worried about the fact that Birdo was firing eggs at her crotch, but her face says to me something more like “Shit, I think I left the iron on.” Doo dah, doo dah. And those last two lines of the first verse are simply too amazing for words: “Look out for Princess Toadstool now / She’s radical and cool.” She really is.
“Frere Jacques”? No. I do not sing “Frere Jacques” without the compulsory “ding dang dong” at the end of the first verse. That’s classic songwriting you don’t screw with. And the accompanying art is a total abomination too. Remember when I said that the artist was running out of the sand-colored marker? I totally was telling the truth, because he or she clearly did not have enough to finish this piece. Nor was there enough ocean-color either, apparently. While we’re at it, why the hell are they all at the beach? There is no beach stage in the original Super Mario Bros. Did the artist also run out of grass color? Thank god all the blood color was used up before the artist could marker in the grisly aftermath of that Hammer Brother’s assault on the back of Peach’s head.
And as happy as I am to see Donkey Kong Jr. get some love, I have to condemn this one as well. When the hell did “Apples and Bananas” become a traditional? Shame on you, T. Ellis. You got lazy again! Learning how to pronounce your vowel sounds has no place in the Donkey Kong games. And neither does a weird version of Donkey Kong Senior who has fists spouting directly out of his shoulders.
That’s all of them. I suppose some of you game-brained readers might get a kick out of this. And if you do, please ponder this: If the people who made this book had the license to use Nintendo characters, then why didn’t they also get the license for the Nintendo music? Really, if you’re talking about early Nintendo games and music, the Super Mario Bros. and Legend of Zelda themes did as much to draw players in as the graphics. And wouldn’t it have been more rewarding to poke out the melody to these tunes than goddamn “Camptown Races?”
I can’t actually remember if I liked this book or not, though I do remember using it and attempting to learn the songs. Except for “La Bamba,” they weren’t too tough, even with the limited sonic capabilities of the keyboard-like instrument. Regardless of whether this ever actually entertained me, I should say that I at least was not the only one who ever made music with it. When I scanned the book to get these images, the keyboard-like instrument was occasionally pressed against the glass. As the scanning mechanism moved back and forth, capturing the image of whatever page was being scanned, it did so with enough pressure to play the keys. Being a machine designed to take pictures and not to celebrate the wonder that is music, it played without heed to melody or rhythm. As I was sitting there, waiting for the scan to finish, I wondered if I sounded any better when I last attempted to make music with this thing.
Game geek? Subscribe to the video games-only feed for Back of the Cereal Box.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Obscurio: The Most Famously Unfamous Mario Characters
There’s Mario, and then, less famously, there’s also Luigi. From there on out stretches a hierarchy of Mario characters that includes the famously unfamous, the formerly unfamous, the minorly unfamous and finally the Z-listers that you’d only know about if you played and loved and breathed the games — and then did a little bit of additional research. I don’t often do lists on this blog, but if were ever going to do one, it should be on this subject.
(A quick note: In this post, when I refer to a certain title as being a Mario game, that’s my shorthand way of saying it’s either a Mario game or a game in one of the series that have sprung off from the main Mario series. It’s just easier that way.)
First up: Those that recently rose from the depths of obscurity.
One of the lesser-known princesses Mario and crew have ever come across would have to be Shokora, the damsel awaiting rescue at the end of Wario Land Advance. There’s two qualities about Shokora worth noting. First, as I’ve mentioned on this blog before, she manifests in one of four forms in proportion to how much loot Wario scores over the course of the game. As such, it’s not clear what she actually looks like — spoiled baby princess? Wario-looking shebeast? Or maybe she’s the Peach-like princess depicted in the official artwork? But if that’s the case, why does the “best” form — the one the players see if they’ve amassed the greatest amount of wealth — have such severe features, cropped hair and a generally boyish look?
Beyond that mystery, there’s a second shapeshifting matter that actually makes Shokora even cooler than most ballgown-sporting captives: She actually helps Wario over the course of the game, though she does so in the form of a Mr. Game & Watch-resembling shopkeeper who sells Wario “weapons,” many of which actually involve the character herself morphing into the various forms of attack. Additionally, Shokora also appears throughout the game in the form of a black alley cat that follows Wario. So she’s a princess and a captive, sure, but at least she makes better use of her spare time than Peach, what with her letter-writing and item-sending.
Princess Eclair
But there’s always someone waiting to one-up you, even if you’re Shokora. There’s an additional princess who deserves a mention here, however brief, and it’s the mention-but-not-seen damsel from the similarly implied Super Luigi adventure in Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door. Luigi is initially sent to Waffle Kingdom at the bidding of Minister Crepe to gather the pieces of the Marvelous Compass in order to defeat the evil Chestnut King and rescue Princess Eclair. Once he collects all the necessary items, he finds that Crepe is actually the story’s villain and the Chestnut King is Eclair’s true love, transformed. In the end, Luigi stomps Crepe and heads back home. Eclair returns to the arms of her sweetheart and she’s never glimpsed — which is fine, really, since Mario’s world is populated with enough food-named princess as it is.
“Pinky” Kong
There is no Pinky Kong, technically. However, as noted in this Destructoid article, there is an unexplained pink-colored clone of D.K. Jr. who appears as an opponent in Donkey Kong Jr. Math. Practically speaking, this palette swap offered an easy fix to the problem of D.K. Jr. not having enough competition in the game. To the overthinking gamer, however, it creates a mystery: Who the hell is this guy? (Or girl?) If D.K. Jr. eventually led to the creation of the similar Diddy Kong, then I’d like to think that this pink version of the big Donkey Kong’s little buddy is the spiritual predecessor to Dixie Kong, who is also a diminutive simian with a predilection for pink.
Dogu, Oyazi, Onigiri and Onnanoko
Nintendo saw fit to throw in a few extra unlockable playable characters in the Japan-only release Wrecking Crew ‘98 — clockwise from top left, an ancient clay figurine, a middle-aged dude, a living ball of rice and a little girl. Why these four got the honor of tussling with the likes of Mario, Spike and Bowser, I’ll never know, but then again I’ve never played the game. Perhaps their presence is an integral part of the plot?
Hen
Wario tends to get the quirkier characters to pal around with, and Hen is no exception. Hen, as you might expect, is a hen. She’s also Wario’s pet. (Leave it to Wario to give his charge an especially uncreative name.) In Wario Land II, Syrup’s goons make off with Wario’s treasures, including Hen, and one whole stage of the game is spent trying to get Wario to return Hen to her nest. Neat in that it proves Wario can feel actual affection for something that’s not actually worth money. Hen appears only once more, in the “Fire Attack” game in Game & Watch Gallery 4, where she may lay eggs that grant bonus points.
Nurse Peach
As much a separate character from regular Peach as Dr. Mario is from regular Mario. Right? While Dr. Mario has enjoyed a certain measure of fame, even appearing as a playable fighter in Smash Bros. Melee, Nurse Peach seems content to wait on the sidelines — appearing more prominently in the instruction manual than she does the game itself, presumably because she’s busy answering phones or weighing Dr. Mario’s patients. Another notch on the obscurity meter: Nurse Peach technically existed before the official switch away from the name Toadstool, so her name really wasn’t ever Nurse Peach, at least in the U.S. versions of Dr. Mario. Technically, Nurse Peach made a cameo in Smash Bros. Melee in one of the challenges. I believe Peach’s white dress in that game was supposed to be a nurse’s uniform to match Dr. Mario’s white lab coat, though Nurse Toadstool generally wears pink and the white dress looked more like a wedding gown.`
The One Red Snifit in Super Mario Bros. 2
I can’t take credit for this one. The Progressive Boink has a whole page dedicated to the fact that Super Mario Bros. 2 features one — and only one — red Snifit in the entire game. I know, I know — the mind boggles.
Unnamed Purple-Haired Lady
And now we’re coming to the real unknowns. I wouldn’t even bother mentioning this one, but she appears fairly prominently in certain screens in the Super NES version of Wario’s Woods. The series in general is known for featuring minor-players as well a host of oddball newcomers such as the two mermaids mentioned earlier, assorted other weirdos and this purple-haired lady. She occasionally takes the place in the game screen usually occupied by Birdo. Why? I honestly can’t remember. I believe she’s good, even though she’s sporting Wario’s trademark purple-and-yellow color scheme. She seems pretty stoked to be in the game but apparently not enough to introduce herself. Rude, really.
“The Professor”
There’s a second mysterious character Wario occasionally runs into during Wario Land Advance — a weirdly unnamed old man whom Wario must pick up and toss around in order to solve various puzzles. He doesn’t talk, exactly, though he might scream a bit when Wario bashes him about. He’s often peering into a magnifying glass, which I think led some to conclude that he’s supposed to be an archeologist examining the Golden Pyramid, the game’s setting. (He also appears in the game’s opening cinema on a newspaper announcing the discovery of the pyramid, so maybe that assumption is valid.) I’d always just called him The Professor, though many erroneously concluded that he’s Mad Scienstein. (That’s a separate Wario character). And, at one point, I could have sworn I read that his name was Paul, though I can’t remember where.
Recently, I stumbled onto a good theory about who this character is and why he ended up in this particular game. Remember Richard from Link’s Awakening? He’s the guy in the villa overrun by frogs, and many know that his appearances is a reference to the Japan-only Nintendo title Kaeru no Tame ni Kane wa Naru, which can be accurately translated as For the Frog the Bell Tolls or humorously translated as The Bell Tolls for the Frog. Just as Zelda’s Richard is originally from this obscure game, so too might this old man be. This message board thread notes his resemblance to a Frog character named Dr. Arewo Shitain. (Ha.) He looks like this:
So a definite match? Maybe not. But the resemblance is striking, and the character designer for Frog also worked on Wario Land Advance. So that, it seems, is the best possible answer to the mystery of this obscure Mario character: He’s most likely not a Mario character after all.
The King of Subcon
And you thought the Princess Peach’s father was the only phantom monarch hovering around a major Mario game setting. No, there is also apparently a King of Subcon — at least according to BS Super Mario USA Power Challenge, a 1996 remake of Super Mario Bros. 2 released in Japan only. A quasi-sequel to Super Mario Bros. 2 that uses the same old levels but takes place after the events of the first time Mario beat Wart, this game boasted quite a few unusual features, including a radio drama that would unfold as the game was played, timed challenges and the added gameplay aspect of collecting golden statues of Mario that the King of Subcon erected to honor the previous victory over Wart. The king appears in the above grid of character portraits, looking quite kingly but also very unfamiliar to this Super Mario Bros. 2 diehard. And that’s the list. I’m sure I’ve neglected plenty of worthwhile characters, but these are the ones I thought to include. Please don’t hesitate to point out who all else you think deserved a mention.
Other noteworthy Super Mario-related posts:
(A quick note: In this post, when I refer to a certain title as being a Mario game, that’s my shorthand way of saying it’s either a Mario game or a game in one of the series that have sprung off from the main Mario series. It’s just easier that way.)
First up: Those that recently rose from the depths of obscurity.
Next: Oh, how the might have fallen — one-time big deals still awaiting their revivals.
Pauline
She once suffered the greatest indignity of all: being not only the first female Mario character but also the co-star of both D.K. and Mario in the original Donkey Kong. But while the ape and the plumber continued on to further starting roles, Pauline fell off the radar. She appeared in the 1994 Game Boy remake of Donkey Kong — her blonde hair replaced with curly brunette locks, apparently to differentiate her from Peach — and in the Game & Watch Gallery remakes of the LCD-age Donkey Kong, Peach actually took Pauline’s place. However, with the release of Mario vs. Donkey Kong 2 in 2006, Pauline came back. Sure, she had bigger boobs and more make-up than ever, but now that she has a fully realized character model floating around, I’d bet that we could see her in the next Mario game featuring a large cast of playables. Come on, Nintendo — why not?Captain Syrup
If Pauline is the most likely candidate to join the ranks of Mario’s tennis- or golf- or miscellaneous sport-playing buddies, then I’d say Syrup is a close second. Next to Pauline, she’s also the most obscure character to get a reprieve from video game oblivion. Despite being the first female boss in a Mario game and the first boss besides Bowser to be the big bad in more than one game, Syrup only appeared in Wario Land and Wario Land II before the ten-year hiatus leading up to 2008’s Wario Land: Shake It! The game reintroduced Syrup with an improved look and reinforced her role as Wario’s rival but not his archnemesis. (She just wants what he wants, really: money.) I’m glad to see Syrup come back. And if she’s not soon driving a go-kart, I’d be happy to see her squaring off against Wario in a new platforming game.
The KoopalingsThe return of the Koopalings in New Super Mario Bros. Wii was perhaps the biggest surprise of all — at the height of their popularity, these little brats were way bigger deals than the two characters I’ve previously described. But I thought the Koopalings were gone for good, what with their apparent retcontastic replacement by Bowser Jr. and their their large number making them difficult to implement in games. (From a few perspectives, it’s more interesting to pit Mario against bosses of all shapes and sizes, rather than seven fairly similarly statured turtle squirts.) But after some false starts — that weird non-speaking appearance in Mario & Luigi: Superstar Saga and that nixed appearance from Super Princess Peach — we finally got to see Larry, Morton, Wendy, Iggy, Roy, Lemmy and Ludwig return to the spotlight, in reckless disregard for the logic of birth order. (Bowser Jr. seems like the youngest, but how did he get to be Junior if he’s the eighth born?) Whatever — the important thing is that the eight kids can apparently coexist, and longtimers like me got to relive some fond memories when stomping the initial seven in New Super Mario Bros. Wii.Stanley the Bugman
Yeah, compared to everyone listed so far, Stanley’s comeback has been puny. But this Mario stand-in from Donkey Kong 3 and the Game & Watch title Greenhouse went from being totally disregarded by Nintendo to at least being acknowledged as existing in two main ways: the Smash Bros. games, where he has cameoed as a trophy and a sticker, and the WarioWare games, where he tends to pop up in 9-Volt’s collections. It’s not much, but it’s something. I’m not saying we need Stanley back, for he is essentially a Mario clone who fires bug spray instead of doing any of the cool stuff Mario can do. But he is nonetheless part of the family, and I’m happy to see that Nintendo remembers that.
Thirdly: They once played central roles in one game or another, but they’ve always been obscure — and likely will continue to be.
Donkey Kong Jr.
If the Koopa Kids can reappear alongside Bowser Jr., then it’s technically possible that that D.K. Jr. could hold his own alongside the new Kong family sidekicks, Diddy and Dixie. (And yes, I’m aware of the debating theories about whether the current D.K. is actually a grown-up D.K. Jr. I don’t care. I’m talking about the entity that looks like and acts like the bibbed mini-simian you see above.) Despite being the second-ever protagonist in a Mario game and even being one of the eight selectable racers in Super Mario Kart, D.K. Jr. seems to have vanished from games altogether. Never say never, though — don’t forget that D.K. Jr. once appeared in the same game as the Donkey Kong Country-era D.K. in the Nintendo 64 version of Mario Tennis. However, the fact that Baby D.K. appeared in Mario Super Sluggers makes me think that there’s little chance Nintendo will throw in yet another apprentice ape into the mix.
Wart
For similar reasons, I’m guessing Wart may not make a comeback, even though he has the honor of being the second boss to preside over Super Mario Bros.. Simply put, he just looks too much like Donkey Kong Country big bad K. Rool. And that wouldn’t be a big deal if K. Rool hadn’t finally crossed over into the Mario games with his playable appearance in Mario Super Sluggers. I’m guessing we’ll probably see K. Rool in a playable role again, and I’m guessing ol’ Wart will continue to languish in the video game No Man’s Land, aside from subsequent remakes of Super Mario Bros. 2. Hey — he at least has the Zelda games to cameo in, right?
Tatanga
In terms of Super Mario series big bads who aren’t Bowser, Wart came first and Tatanga came second, as the spaceship-piloting alien who kidnapped Daisy in Super Mario Land. But while Wart’s chances at a comeback seem to be handicapped by K. Rool’s existence, I can’t think of any reason why Tatanga couldn’t show up again. For the record, such a thing would actually mark Tatanga’s third appearance in a Mario game, as he’s also a boss in Super Mario Land 2: Six Golden Coins. Though he’s never referred to by name and though Wario is the game’s big bad, it’s clearly Tatanga that Mario must beat at the end of Space Zone. I, for one, would relish the opportunity to tear around a Mario Kart racetrack in some wheeled version of Pagosu, his nifty little spaceship.
Poochy
Oh, who really cares about a dog that doesn’t even have a nose? (Seriously, he doesn’t have one, despite that he mainly helped out in Yoshi’s Story by sniffing out items.) After appearing in Yoshi’s Island, Poochy seemed like he’d continue to grow with the expanding Mario universe. But he hasn’t done all that much, aside for his appearance in Yoshi’s Story and the Yoshi-themed Tetris Attack. When the game that would become Paper Mario was first announced, Poochy seemed poised to break out of the Yoshi game ghetto with a role in a proper Mario game, but alas — the beta screens showing Mario being followed around by the little dog were nowhere to be seen in the game’s final cut. Too bad, Poochy. If only you had a nose, things might have been different.
Baby Chauncey
So, okay, this character isn’t the most significant one ever, but he was for me the most memorable one introduced in Luigi’s Mansion. I mean, hell — he’s a demonic ghost baby. A dead baby — in a Mario game! Pretty dark stuff. And that fight with Chauncey, the game’s first boss, was pretty freaky. Since the game debuted, E. Gadd and King Boo have proven to be the ones who would become series regulars. With Nintendo’s apparent focus on the Mario babies — eight and counting! — it would be nice if they threw one into the mix who wasn’t so overwhelmingly cute. Please, Nintendo? Can we have a playable Baby Chauncey instead of Baby Waluigi? Baby Rosalina? Baby Petey?
Perry
Say what you will about Super Princess Peach, it did introduce a new character to the Mario mythos: Perry the sentient parasol. As Peach’s guide, ally and weapon throughout the game, Perry is fairly important. But the odd thing about this character is that he’s given a mysterious back story that is never resolved in the one game he appears in.
Through a series of dreams Perry has throughout Super Princess Peach, we learn that this character once had a form other than an umbrella. At some point, Perry and his adopted grandfather were attacked by an unnamed pair of bad guys wanting to use Perry’s special powers. When Perry refused to aid them, the bad guys turned him into an umbrella. Perry, in his new form, escaped but ended up being sold to Toadsworth, who have Perry to Peach to help her in her quest to fight Bowser. Perry wonders if he will ever meet his “grandfather” again, but the game gives no closure. What the hell, Nintendo?! Super Princess Peach has its share of problems, to be sure, and the loose end that is Perry’s tragic story is just one of them. Given the critical drubbing that the game got, I suppose we’ll have to assume that we’ll never figure out what the deal with this magical umbrella was.
Everyone from Super Mario RPG
Geno, Mallow, assorted bad guys — we miss you. Tell Square-Enix we want you back, in some form. Seriously. Super Mario RPG was a thing of beauty — and, really, the first glimpse we’ve ever gotten of a fleshed-out Mushroom Kingdom populated by characters rather than just sprites. In their day, the Super Mario RPG crew was big news. They still are, as far as Mario fanboy circles go. And they might not be still holding onto hope had Geno not made that cameo in the non-Squeenix-produced Mario & Luigi: Superstar Saga, a fleeting appearance that did not, sadly, yield repeat ones by Geno or anyone else. Personally speaking, the two I miss the most are Booster and Valentina. I’d be very happy to see those two thrown back into the mix. But I’m not holding my breath.
And finally: the far reaches of the Marioverse — the forgotten, the unloved and the unrecognizable.
Foreman Spike
Also known as Blackie, Spike is the big bad in Wrecking Crew and Wrecking Crew ’98, a nasty dude who attempted to work his demolition magic to do in Mario. Despite that resume and the fact that he looks like he could have been a prototype for Wario, Spike remains largely forgotten among Mario fans. It doesn’t help that his most recent appearance was in Mobile Golf, a title released only in Japan. But hey — he was playable, at least. I’d be happy to see him in a playable role in some future Mario title, but give that hardly any series fans know who this guys is — “Why is Wario dressed like a gay leather daddy?” — I’ll assume that these wishes won’t come true.Wanda
Historically, Wanda is important. Practically, she’s not. But for the record, we should all take a moment to acknowledge the efforts of the little fairy who can make blocks appear or vanish with a mere shake of her wand. She’s the first-ever female character to be the default protagonist in a Mario series game, beating out Dixie Kong in Donkey Kong Country 3 and Peach in Super Princess Peach by years. In the Japan-only release Mario & Wario, Wanda was responsible for preventing Mario, Yoshi or Peach from wandering Lemmings-style into certain death. Wanda showed up once more in Wario’s Woods, helping Toad combat Wario once more. Beyond that? Nada. Cute those she may be, I’m not holding out that we’ll see Wanda in action again.
Winky the Frog
Poor Winky never had a chance. Though he might be familiar to anyone who played through Donkey Kong Country, most gamers might not realize that he only appeared in that one title. Rambi the Rhino, Expresso the Ostrich and Enguarde the Swordfish each appeared in subsequent titles, but Winky faded into nothingness after that first Rare-bred outing, probably because Winky’s one superpower — jumping really high — didn’t make him all that valuable a steed for the Kong clan to mount. In Donkey Kong Country 2, Winky was replaced by Rattly the Rattlesnake as the go-to high-jumper — and at least Rattly appeared in the Game Boy version of that game, Donkey Kong Land.
The Subcon Fairies
Remember those things that spring out of the vase at the end of Super Mario Bros. 2 They’re ostensibly the residents of Subcon, the land of dreams and this game’s setting. They’re also apparently called Subcon, which is confusing. Despite their status at the second Super Mario game’s damsels, players learned next to nothing about them and they never appeared again, aside from various remakes of Super Mario Bros. 2. I wonder if Doki Doki Panic — from which, of course, Super Mario Bros. 2 was made — offers any more detail as to who this winged little creatures are. As it stands now, we barely have any idea what their species name is — and given that the original Super Mario Bros. 2 ending credits offers Birdo’s name as Ostro and Clawgrip’s as Clawglip, I wonder if even their name being Subcon was a mistake or translation error.
Human nobodies in Mario sports games
Ah, to be a boring human in Mario’s world. You must suffer the sad fate of being a playable character but being no sane player’s favorite character in the Mario series as a whole. To illustrate this type of character, I’ve picked eight who will likely be familiar to even avid Mario fans, as they only appeared in the Japan-only title Mobile Golf: from left to right, top to bottom, it’s Ken, Napple, Lisa, Thread, Rozary, Bean, Bird and Powert. You say “Who?!” I say “Exactly.” To be fair, some of these blank-eyed nobodies have squeezed a bit of fame out of their appearances in these Camelot-produced spin-off sports games. Plum, for example, scored a trophy in Smash Bros. Melee, while Azalea had the honor of having her faced stolen by Daisy. And that’s something, at least.
Katsini
I’m beginning with this weirdo from the Super Nintendo version of Wario’s Woods because he’s especially notable in that he looks just like Tatanga — just better dressed. The purple skin, the fans, the connection to Wario and even the syllable pattern of his name all seem to lead to the idea that Katsini may have some connection to Wario. Does he? Who knows. After Wario’s Woods was released, the introduced characters promptly vanished, so any sort of reunion between Katsini and Tatanga was left up to the minds of Mario fanboys.
Aqualea and Meidou
Also especially notable among the Wario’s Woods freaks are these two mermaid characters — Meidou in the Nintendo version of the game and Aqualea in the Super Nintendo version. Are they one in the same? Is Aqualea simply the localized name assigned to Meidou? We’ll never know. But if they are indeed two separate characters, isn’t it odd that Nintendo would invent two very similar but ultimately different mermaids to fill two almost identical roles in versions of what is essentially the same game?
Ball Bunny
Notable in that he’s made two appearances as a level boss — in Wario Land II and Wario Land III. Also, Wario doesn’t have to beat the tar out of Ball Bunny, just out-score him at basketball. (Technically, the latter game, Mario has to beat him in a game of soccer in which the rabbit-eared one is aided by an unnamed tortoise character. But same idea.) Rather odd. Might he made a good addition to Mario Hoops 3-on-3? Ah, but then he wouldn’t be on this list.
Dangerous Duck
Not too different from Ball Bunny in some respects, Dangerous Duck isn’t even a boss. He’s a generic, boomerang-tossing baddie in Wario Land and Wario Land II. Nonetheless, in the latter, D.D. actually pops up as the central character in Wario Land II in a remake of the old Game & Watch title Flagman. A rare honor, but not one great enough to make him known to the Mario fan community at large.
Blizzaurus
In a game where the gender of the protagonist is emphasized so much, Blizzaurus stands out simply because she’s the only female baddie in the entire game as well as one of the few not from or inspired by a previous Mario baddie. The boss of Super Princess Peach’s sixth world, Gleam Glacier, Blizzaurus initially appears as a hulking dragon. After a few hits, however, the character’s true form emerges: a little pixie. She’s still every bit as devilish and uses ice magic to try and thwart Peach. And like every other boss in Super Princess Peach, she’s a total pushover. But still — thanks, Nintendo, for giving Peach at least one similarly gendered opponent to take on. Bonus points for the NES Metroid-like reveal of “Oh! Hey! This one is a girl, it turns out!”
Imajin, Lina, Mama and Papa
Long before Mario and company ever set foot in Subcon in Super Mario Bros. 2, Imajin’s family ventured through and trounced Wart on their own in Doki Doki Panic. This is now common knowledge, even among casual Mario gamers. However, I say these four shouldn’t just step aside; they should still have a place in the Mario games. This is likely complicated by the fact that the characters may be owned by Fuji Television, as Imajin and company were created as mascots for the 1987 Yume Kōjō festival, which showed off Fuji’s various wares. According to Wikipedia, everything in Doki Doki Panic besides the family members themselves was created by Nintendo, and perhaps that’s why we today have Shy Guys, Bob-Ombs and Pokeys causing trouble everywhere. Still, I feel the characters wouldn’t be out-of-place in a Mario game — brother Imajin and sister Lina in particular. But I also feel that if Nintendo hasn’t opted to use them yet, they probably won’t. Boo. I say mainstream video games need more turbans.
Prince Pine and King Fret
Not all the members of royalty needing rescue are female. In Yoshi’s Safari, Mario first rescues Peach and then Fret and Pine, in that order. Before you assume that their status as he-damsels renders them less masculine than the rest of the male inhabitants of Mario’s world, remind yourself that beyond the events of Yoshi’s Safari both Fret and Pine are respected heads of state… of a place called Jewelry Land. Wait, that’s not any better, is it?
Princess Shokora
Beyond that mystery, there’s a second shapeshifting matter that actually makes Shokora even cooler than most ballgown-sporting captives: She actually helps Wario over the course of the game, though she does so in the form of a Mr. Game & Watch-resembling shopkeeper who sells Wario “weapons,” many of which actually involve the character herself morphing into the various forms of attack. Additionally, Shokora also appears throughout the game in the form of a black alley cat that follows Wario. So she’s a princess and a captive, sure, but at least she makes better use of her spare time than Peach, what with her letter-writing and item-sending.
Princess Eclair
But there’s always someone waiting to one-up you, even if you’re Shokora. There’s an additional princess who deserves a mention here, however brief, and it’s the mention-but-not-seen damsel from the similarly implied Super Luigi adventure in Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door. Luigi is initially sent to Waffle Kingdom at the bidding of Minister Crepe to gather the pieces of the Marvelous Compass in order to defeat the evil Chestnut King and rescue Princess Eclair. Once he collects all the necessary items, he finds that Crepe is actually the story’s villain and the Chestnut King is Eclair’s true love, transformed. In the end, Luigi stomps Crepe and heads back home. Eclair returns to the arms of her sweetheart and she’s never glimpsed — which is fine, really, since Mario’s world is populated with enough food-named princess as it is.
“Pinky” Kong
There is no Pinky Kong, technically. However, as noted in this Destructoid article, there is an unexplained pink-colored clone of D.K. Jr. who appears as an opponent in Donkey Kong Jr. Math. Practically speaking, this palette swap offered an easy fix to the problem of D.K. Jr. not having enough competition in the game. To the overthinking gamer, however, it creates a mystery: Who the hell is this guy? (Or girl?) If D.K. Jr. eventually led to the creation of the similar Diddy Kong, then I’d like to think that this pink version of the big Donkey Kong’s little buddy is the spiritual predecessor to Dixie Kong, who is also a diminutive simian with a predilection for pink.
Dogu, Oyazi, Onigiri and Onnanoko
Nintendo saw fit to throw in a few extra unlockable playable characters in the Japan-only release Wrecking Crew ‘98 — clockwise from top left, an ancient clay figurine, a middle-aged dude, a living ball of rice and a little girl. Why these four got the honor of tussling with the likes of Mario, Spike and Bowser, I’ll never know, but then again I’ve never played the game. Perhaps their presence is an integral part of the plot?
Hen
Wario tends to get the quirkier characters to pal around with, and Hen is no exception. Hen, as you might expect, is a hen. She’s also Wario’s pet. (Leave it to Wario to give his charge an especially uncreative name.) In Wario Land II, Syrup’s goons make off with Wario’s treasures, including Hen, and one whole stage of the game is spent trying to get Wario to return Hen to her nest. Neat in that it proves Wario can feel actual affection for something that’s not actually worth money. Hen appears only once more, in the “Fire Attack” game in Game & Watch Gallery 4, where she may lay eggs that grant bonus points.
Nurse Peach
As much a separate character from regular Peach as Dr. Mario is from regular Mario. Right? While Dr. Mario has enjoyed a certain measure of fame, even appearing as a playable fighter in Smash Bros. Melee, Nurse Peach seems content to wait on the sidelines — appearing more prominently in the instruction manual than she does the game itself, presumably because she’s busy answering phones or weighing Dr. Mario’s patients. Another notch on the obscurity meter: Nurse Peach technically existed before the official switch away from the name Toadstool, so her name really wasn’t ever Nurse Peach, at least in the U.S. versions of Dr. Mario. Technically, Nurse Peach made a cameo in Smash Bros. Melee in one of the challenges. I believe Peach’s white dress in that game was supposed to be a nurse’s uniform to match Dr. Mario’s white lab coat, though Nurse Toadstool generally wears pink and the white dress looked more like a wedding gown.`
The One Red Snifit in Super Mario Bros. 2
I can’t take credit for this one. The Progressive Boink has a whole page dedicated to the fact that Super Mario Bros. 2 features one — and only one — red Snifit in the entire game. I know, I know — the mind boggles.
Unnamed Purple-Haired Lady
And now we’re coming to the real unknowns. I wouldn’t even bother mentioning this one, but she appears fairly prominently in certain screens in the Super NES version of Wario’s Woods. The series in general is known for featuring minor-players as well a host of oddball newcomers such as the two mermaids mentioned earlier, assorted other weirdos and this purple-haired lady. She occasionally takes the place in the game screen usually occupied by Birdo. Why? I honestly can’t remember. I believe she’s good, even though she’s sporting Wario’s trademark purple-and-yellow color scheme. She seems pretty stoked to be in the game but apparently not enough to introduce herself. Rude, really.
“The Professor”
There’s a second mysterious character Wario occasionally runs into during Wario Land Advance — a weirdly unnamed old man whom Wario must pick up and toss around in order to solve various puzzles. He doesn’t talk, exactly, though he might scream a bit when Wario bashes him about. He’s often peering into a magnifying glass, which I think led some to conclude that he’s supposed to be an archeologist examining the Golden Pyramid, the game’s setting. (He also appears in the game’s opening cinema on a newspaper announcing the discovery of the pyramid, so maybe that assumption is valid.) I’d always just called him The Professor, though many erroneously concluded that he’s Mad Scienstein. (That’s a separate Wario character). And, at one point, I could have sworn I read that his name was Paul, though I can’t remember where.
Recently, I stumbled onto a good theory about who this character is and why he ended up in this particular game. Remember Richard from Link’s Awakening? He’s the guy in the villa overrun by frogs, and many know that his appearances is a reference to the Japan-only Nintendo title Kaeru no Tame ni Kane wa Naru, which can be accurately translated as For the Frog the Bell Tolls or humorously translated as The Bell Tolls for the Frog. Just as Zelda’s Richard is originally from this obscure game, so too might this old man be. This message board thread notes his resemblance to a Frog character named Dr. Arewo Shitain. (Ha.) He looks like this:
So a definite match? Maybe not. But the resemblance is striking, and the character designer for Frog also worked on Wario Land Advance. So that, it seems, is the best possible answer to the mystery of this obscure Mario character: He’s most likely not a Mario character after all.
The King of Subcon
And you thought the Princess Peach’s father was the only phantom monarch hovering around a major Mario game setting. No, there is also apparently a King of Subcon — at least according to BS Super Mario USA Power Challenge, a 1996 remake of Super Mario Bros. 2 released in Japan only. A quasi-sequel to Super Mario Bros. 2 that uses the same old levels but takes place after the events of the first time Mario beat Wart, this game boasted quite a few unusual features, including a radio drama that would unfold as the game was played, timed challenges and the added gameplay aspect of collecting golden statues of Mario that the King of Subcon erected to honor the previous victory over Wart. The king appears in the above grid of character portraits, looking quite kingly but also very unfamiliar to this Super Mario Bros. 2 diehard. And that’s the list. I’m sure I’ve neglected plenty of worthwhile characters, but these are the ones I thought to include. Please don’t hesitate to point out who all else you think deserved a mention.
Other noteworthy Super Mario-related posts:
- The strange origin of Mario characters’ names
- Don’t we already have a Super Mario Bros. 4?
- Super Mario, King of Japan
- The surprising intersection of Super Mario Land 2 and indie pop
- Questions reasonable people should have upon playing Super Mario Bros. for the first time
- The best song from Super Mario RPG and its TV soundalike
- Mario’s lack of balls
- Nature re-creates Super Mario Bros. 3... completely by accident
- Toad had a bad dream
- Who Put the “P” in the P-Wing?
- How the worlds in Super Mario Land got their names
Friday, June 26, 2009
It’s a Secret to Everybody, Part Two: Name Origins for Mario, Donkey Kong and Wario
(This is a reposting of just one section of my rather long “It’s a Secret to Everybody” post on video game etymologies. Click the link to see the whole shebang. Links to other sections are at the bottom of this post.)
Characters in the Mario games tend to have more straightforward names, but that doesn’t mean that they don’t lend themselves to some inspection. In fact, one of the first video game-related posts I ever put on this blog concerned the odd linguistic associations that Mario and Luigi have.
The most logical place to start, then: the Italian-American stereotype himself, Mario.
The story behind Mario’s name — as put forth in many reliable sources, including Chris Kohler’s book Power-Up — is that it comes from Mario Segale (or Mario Segali, depending on your sources), who was landlord for Nintendo of America’s office around the time Mario Bros. came out and who apparently bore a resemblance to the portly, mustachioed hero. Given the attitudes most people have for their landlords, I have to imagine the comparison wasn’t necessarily flattering. Mario’s debut a few years earlier in Donkey Kong billed him as Jumpman — which, as a name, kind of blows — so I suppose we should be happy that Nintendo staff decided to mock their landlord when they did. I have no reason to question the story other than the fact that I have never seen any proof that Mr. Segale actually exists. I’m not alone: One guy has even begun a website to try to track Mr. Segale down. Similarly, it’s generally accepted that Luigi got his name from Mario & Luigi’s, a pizza place alleged to have existed at some point near Nintendo of America’s Redmond, Washington, office.
Confusing the issue further, however, is the theory that Mario and Luigi got their names from the Japanese words marui and ruiji, which mean “round” and “similar” respectively. (The former is also related to the name of the Maru Mari, an item in the Metroid series that’s now known as the Morph Ball.) The marui-ruiji theory is probably wrong, but it’s still interesting to consider. Mario does have a bit of a paunch nowadays, though he looked trimmer back when he was first named. (Early video graphics were ill-equipped to portray slight tubbiness.) And Luigi did debut in Mario Bros. as a palette swap — that is, he had Mario’s sprite with a different color scheme.
early mario and luigi, with the latter looking pretty damn similar
The marui-ruiji theory might have ended up seeming more believable as the result of the explanation behind the names of the other two “plumber” characters, Wario and Waluigi. Among people who follow these things, it’s fairly well known that Wario’s name comes from the Japanese adjective warui, meaning “evil.” Warui plus Mario equals Wario, with the fact that “W” looks like an inverted “M” apparently being a happy coincidence. All in all, a good play on words.
Luigi’s evil counterpart, Waluigi, isn’t so lucky. That pesky “L”/“R” problem, which so often rears its head in transliterations between English and Japanese, causes warui and Luigi’s name to blend together less seamlessly. If Nintendo has only named its Number One Player Two Ruigi instead of Luigi, some of the awkwardness English-speakers perceive in Waluigi’s name would have been avoided. Waluigi — or, transliterated differently, Waruiji — also happens to be an anagram for the Japanese word ijiwaru, which means “bad-tempered.” As far as I know, this too is just a coincidence. Because Waluigi’s hat bears an inverted “L,” some depict the character’s name as 7uigi, which might be the most sensible way to refer to this character with the awkward, awkward name.
The wa- prefix characters mostly end there, as we have yet to be beset with a particularly un-ladylike Wapeach, an unhelpful Watoad, a peaceful Wabowser or a heroic Wawario. There has, however, been a Wayoshi, though not by that name. (See below, where I talk about Yoshi.)
Other main characters in the Mario games don’t offer as much to think about, at least from what I’ve found.
Given the series’ propensity for naming characters after food — a trend throughout Japanese pop culture, really — it doesn’t seem remarkable that the games’ iconic female character would be named after something sweet. Princess Peach’s name in its Japanese form, however, could also be represented in English as Pichi, or “Peachy,” which makes for an accurate description of her unflappably positive personality. Yes, she has an alternate name in the U.S., where she was introduced as Princess Toadstool and went by the that name until 1996. It’s all but forgotten now, and perhaps for the better: Toadstool is an ugly name for any universe’s epitome of femininity.
Nintendo has saddled the prolific cake-baker with some unfortunate feminine stereotypes throughout the years, including one that pertains especially to this discussion of games and words: Her Super Mario RPG attack Psych Bomb is known in the original Japanese as Hisuterikku Bomu, or “Hysteric Bomb,” which, on the etymological level, expresses a certain degree of misogyny.
bald bowser, blue bowser and the bowser we all know and hate
As for Bowser’s American-only first name, I’d propose that it could come either from a certain type of water or fuel tanker — which would make sense, given the character’s size — or from Jon “Bowzer” Bauman of the rock group Sha Na Na. (Less of a badass association than one might have hoped for, but few names could hold a candle to the name Bowser was introduced as in the original Japanese version of Super Mario Bros.: Daimaō Kuppa, which translates either as “Great Demon King Koopa” or “Big Devil King Koopa.” And Bowser, regardless of its origin, is a hundred times cooler than Kerog, a mysterious alternate name the character has been stuck with in at least one piece of apparently Nintendo-sanctioned merchandise.)
Another theory as to the origin of the name Koopa relates it to a creature from Japanese mythology, the kappa. These water demons have little in common with the Super Mario Bros. villain other than that they like kidnapping people and are sometimes depicted as having turtle-like shells and beaks. In fact, the Japanese refer to the generic turtle enemies that Americans call Koopa or Koopa Troopa as Nokonoko, which translates to something like “unconcernedly,” apparently in reference to the way they stupidly walk in one direction without fear of being stomped or falling into holes. That their Japanese name sounds like the knock-knock noise their shells make when bouncing off a solid object is just a coincidence.
A quick aside: Kappas are common enough in Japanese culture that they show up pretty often in video games. They appear in Final Fantasy VI, as “imps,” and there’s also a pirate-accented one named Kapp’n in the Animal Crossing games that most American players would just assume was a turtle anyway. A major difference between kappas and turtles, however, is that the former has a hollow head filled with water that spills if they lean over. And if the water spills, the kappa dies. (So now you know what to do in an emergency.) The aspect of the creature is subtly reflected in Super Mario World, whose instruction manual identifies an area of the map as Kappa Mountain. The name never appears in the game itself, but it would appear to be named after the fact that a pond appearing on one part of the mountain looks a little like the water-filled depression in a kappa’s head.
Kappa Mountain, by the way, looks a hell of a lot more like a mountain on the map than the area that the game’s text actually refers to as such: Cookie Mountain, a stage in the fourth area that just might have inspired the name of TV on the Radio’s second album, Return to Cookie Mountain. I’ve never read any confirmation from the band that it’s true, though.
Back on the subject of Bowser, I have nothing to back up the Sha Na Na theory, but it seems less ludicrous than it might initially if considered alongside the names that Bowser’s seven awful children got when they were introduced in Super Mario Bros. 3. In order, the children were Larry Koopa, Morton Koopa Jr., Wendy O. Koopa, Iggy Koopa, Roy Koopa, Lemmy Koopa and Ludwig von Koopa — nearly all of whom have names that resemble those of famous musicians.
In order: Wendy O. Williams, Iggy Pop, Roy Orbison (whose habit of wearing sunglasses is shared by his Super Mario Bros. counterpart), Lemmy from Motörhead, and Ludwig von Beethoven. Morton would seem to take his name from the talk show host Morton Downey Jr., who was popular around the time Super Mario Bros. 3 was released. And Larry is a bit of a mystery, though I say the apparent reference to Downey has led some to assume his namesake is another talk show host, Larry King. Nintendo has never confirmed anything one way or the other, so this all remains just speculation, but it’s speculation that seems pretty damn likely, especially considering that subsequent Mario characters were also named after rock stars and the like — among them a boss in Super Mario World being apparently named for Trent Reznor of Nine Inch Nails (Reader Kevin T points out that another possible source for the Reznor character could be a heater manufacturing company of the same name.) Years after introducing Bowser’s brood, Nintendo ditched them in favor of a single offspring with a far less cool namesake: Bowser Jr.
Less speculative are the name origins for Toad and Yoshi. The former, being an anthropomorphic mushroom, seems to take his name from the word toadstool, which seems a bit unimaginative given that Peach’s name also used to be Toadstool.
In addition to being a Japanese first name — for humans, that is — Yoshi’s name also serves in Japanese as an interjection meaning “Okay!” or “All right!” He is also one of the few major Mario characters to have a distinctly Japanese-sounding name worldwide, though some early and unofficial materials Anglicize his name as Yossy. (The legendary Kart Fighter, for example.)
Commenters have pointed out that Yoshi’s name has twice been used as an inspiration for similar characters. Mountainchops notes that Super Mario RPG featured a character named Boshi who, in the Japanese version, was called Washi or Waruishi, similar to how Wario is the evil Mario and Waluigi is the evil Luigi. And Elena notes that Dorrie, the sea serpent helper from Super Mario 64 and New Super Mario Bros., is named Doshi in Japan.
Toad and Yoshi also belong to a group of Mario characters whose names double as generic terms for all of their kind — that is, the name Toad can refer to the specific character Toad but also generically to any Average Joe mushroom head, even when these characters actually have their own name. For example, you could say that Toad’s female counterpart, Toadette, is a Toad. (I wonder what Nintendo will make of the playable Toads in the New Super Mario Bros. Wii announced at this year’s E3. Will they get names or will they just be Blue Toad and Yellow Toad?) Same for Yoshi, as well as for other characters like Birdo and Kamek. (I’ve previously written about these characters names and this very Japanese sense of self and group identity in this post.)
Speaking of Birdo, she has quite of few issues regarding her name, not that a character who suffers from so much gender confusion needs any more complications in her life. Birdo — whose Japanese name, Kyasarin, can be transliterated into English as either Catherine or Cassie, depending on who’s doing the transliterating — seems to get stuck with various names referring to animals of the feathered variety regardless of the fact that she looks like a dinosaur. Her name in Italy, for example, is Strutzi, which would seem to come from the Italian word struzzo, meaning “ostrich.” (I have up a separate post on Birdo’s bird-related name problems as well.)
Finally, Kamek — the broom-riding wizard Koopa — gets his name some the Japanese kame, meaning “turtle,” which seems odd given that all the Koopas are turtles. Why should just one guy get to claim that in his name?
And then there’s Donkey Kong. It so happens that the big ape has a name that’s probably made more people scratch their heads than any other video game character.
His last name seems likes a clear reference to King Kong, but the Donkey part doesn’t make sense. Contrary to various urban legends that say otherwise, Donkey Kong earned his first name as a result of Miyamoto wanting to call the villain something that conveyed a sense of stubbornness and stupidity. He arrived at donkey. Miyamoto himself said as much in a 2001 interview he gave at the Electronic Entertainment Expo. Thus, the name didn’t result from some butchering of Monkey Kong through a typo or communication error. Chris Kohler’s Power-Up also notes that the word kong had been used to mean “large” in Japanese ever since the 1933 King Kong.
It probably results only from people like me trying to put an English major spin on things, but there’s another theory about Donkey Kong’s name that, however implausible, put this character in an interesting literary context. Remember King Midas? The character from Greek mythology who can turn anything into gold just by touching it? There’s a less widely known story involving the very same character pissing off the god Apollo and winding up with a pair of donkey ears. Apparently a heightened sense of hearing did little to allay the concerns of Midas, who found the ears to be unbecoming of a king, so he did everything he could to conceal his condition. In a loose sense, this sets up a dichotomy between kings and donkeys that is reflected in Donkey Kong’s name, but only if you compare it to King Kong’s — that is, the video game character is such a galoot that he’s the opposite of a king. It’s a stretch, I’ll admit, but the theory allows for a way to view the character.
Probably because the latter-day Donkey Kong games are often developed by non-Japanese publishers, a lot of the names of the characters in them are less mysterious. I recently found out, however, that Diddy Kong — Donkey’s main sidekick and the character that essentially replaced Donkey Kong Jr. — got his name from a British term meaning “small.” And “small,” I suppose, is a good substitute for “junior.”
The first name of the other sidekick, Dixie Kong, means “tenth.” Though I’d like to report that her debut marked the tenth Donkey Kong game, it would require some funky math to make that work. The fact that she wears pink — she’s the girl, get it? — is actually also appropriate in light of how the character is, like Diddy, a diminutive sidekick for Donkey Kong. Just as “little” Diddy Kong replaced Donkey Kong Jr., Dixie could be seen as a successor to a fairly obscure character that appeared in the edutainment title Donkey Kong Jr. Math: a pink ape whose name, for all practical purposes, also seems to be Donkey Kong Jr. I prefer to call him Pinky Kong, because palette swaps aside, calling them both Junior is a little messed up.
Perhaps coincidentally, both Diddy and Dixie’s names function as codes in the games they debut in. In Donkey Kong Country, the Diddy code — entering down, Y, down, down Y on the contol pad, effectively spelling out “D-Y-D-D-Y” — allows the player to access the game’s bonus rounds. In the sequel, Diddy’s Kong-Quest, a similar code — down, Y, X, Y, or “D-Y-X-Y” — also unlocks hidden features. I have no clue if the characters’ names were chosen with possible codes that could be entered using the buttons on the Super Nintendo control pad in mind.
Daisy, the Mario games’ Girl Number Two, happens to have a five-letter name that doubles as a generic English noun, just like Peach. Since Miyamoto named Zelda in honor of the wife of F. Scott Fitzgerald, however, I wonder if Daisy could have been named after a certain fictional woman associated with Fitzgerald: Daisy Buchanan from The Great Gatsby. Unlike most Mario characters, however, Daisy was created by the late Nintendo pioneer, Gunpei Yokoi, so it would seem just as likely that she, like Peach, would take her name from a word named for a pleasant, organic thing.
the many faces of princess daisy
On the subject of Daisy, there’s an interesting but non-name-related theory about her and how the evolution of her appearance eventually had her stealing the face and overall look of Azalea, a Mario series C-stringer and one of the humans who appear in the Mario Golf series. I talk about all this in a previous post, so check it out if you’d like proof that Daisy is an identity thief.
pauline, from her pixelated days to more shapely and more current
It’s also addressed in a previous post, but might as well bring it up here: Pauline, the first Mario damsel and the heroine of the original Donkey Kong, is named after Polly James, wife of onetime Nintendo of America warehouse manager Don James. She presumably picked up the name when the title reached the U.S. and Nintendo staffers realized that her original Japanese name, simply Lady, wouldn’t cut it. I’d always presumed that she took her name after the often-kidnapped and sometimes-tied-to-railroad-tracks heroine Pauline, as in The Perils of Pauline, but the two imperiled Paulines seem to have come into existence separately. And based of the fact that Mario, Luigi and Pauline all seem to have been named after real-life entities familiar to early Nintendo of America employees, I wonder if there might be a living, breathing namesake for Stanley the Bugman, the Mario stand-in insect exterminator from Donkey Kong 3.
Super Mario Galaxy introduced Rosalina — less a damsel and more of a benevolent lady Galactus with the power to control the cosmos. But despite being one of the mightiest female characters I the whole Mario series, Rosalina suffers from an identity crisis in that she seems to go by a different name in most translations of the Galaxy, much more so than most major series characters do. In Spanish-speaking territories in North America, she’s still Rosalina, but to Spanish-speakers in Europe, she’s Estela, “tail end of a comet.” In France, she’s Harmonie, “harmony,” and in Italy she’s Rosalinda.
the space queen, her glinda the good witch prototype, and the loveliest orbit of all
Only in Japan, however, does Rosalina get a name befitting her status as a beautiful creature existing in deep space: Rosetta. Though it sounds stereotypically diminutive, feminine, and pretty — and indeed it can be, if referring to a rose-cut diamond — there’s a good chance that the character’s creators were actually going for the rosetta orbit, which happens when a celestial body approaches a black hole, begins oscillating, and traces a vague rose-shaped pattern.
As I discuss in a post on Super Mario RPG villain Valentina, I’m willing to bet that Nintendo nixed her original Japanese name — either Margarita or Margarie Margarita, depending on your source — from the English version to keep alcohol references out of the game. (A similar decision resulted in the name of the Wine River being changes to Midas River in the U.S. release.) What’s weird, though, is that she still carries a cocktail glass with her — curiously not a margarita but what looks like a martini.
I’ve always thought that another Super Mario RPG character, Mallow, had a name that might be more clever than it might initially seem. The puffy little weather wizard is one of a handful of male Mario characters to fall into that aforementioned category of characters named after pleasant objects. (Compare Pine in Yoshi’s Safari, Peasley in Mario & Luigi: Superstar Saga or Cricket in WarioWare: Smooth Moves.) And though the name Mallow makes sense for this character, as he is soft and sweet like a marshmallow, there’s an added layer of meaning to his name, even if the crew that named him might not have intended it.
Today, marshmallows are probably one of the least organic food products in existence. Back in the day, however, the candy was made from a paste derived the plant Althaea officianalis, a member of the mallow family that grows near marshes. This is appropriate to the character because he grows up at a kind of marsh — namely the Tadpole Pond, where his infant self washed up one day and was raised by the local frogfolk, hence why Mallow spends most of the game telling people he’s a tadpole. So Mallow’s name is a double reference — to the character’s spongy body and to the fact that he’s literally a marsh Mallow, if you want to look at it that way. Like I said, probably not an intentional reference, but a neat one.
As a character who debuted a haunted house game like Luigi’s Mansion, E. Gadd’s name seems appropriate. Obviously, it’s a pun on egad, which is what a person might yell if he saw a ghost… and, also, if this person were especially formal and living in a different time period. The name is more interesting in Japanese. There, he’s Oya Mā Hakase — hakase meaning “professor” and oya mā meaning something like “oh my!” However, since E. Gadd was designed by Nintendo’s Yoshiyuki Oyama, it seems probable that he named the character after himself. A double reference.
Two of Wario’s damsels — Queen Merelda in Wario Land: Shake It and Princess Shokora in Wario Land Advance — both keep up the tradition of women being named after things that are pretty, taste good, smell nice or are adorably small. If Peach is pink, Daisy is yellow, Pauline is Red, and Rosalina is blue, then Merelda is very clearly green. It’s appropriate, then, that her name happens to be an anagram for emerald as well as just one syllable shy of esmeralda, a given name meaning “emerald” and the Spanish and Portuguese word for this gem. (In German, notably, she’s Midori — the Japanese word for “green” and a common bright green liqueur.) Despite not having a brown color scheme, Shokora’s name is a Japanese approximation for either chocolate or the French chocolat, depending on the source. For more on Merelda, see a previous post specifically about her; and see the Shokora post for more on her.
chocolate, a green gem, the famous painting (?), and the child bride of satan
The food name theme is especially prevalent in the Wario games, what with him sparring with the likes of Captain Syrup, Count Cannoli, Carpaccio, and Tiaramisu, the last of whom has such a clunker name that I gave her a spot on this series’ list of the worst names in video games. This is less common in the WarioWare series, where characters tend to be named after inedible objects — 9-Volt and 18-Volt after batteries, Cricket and Mantis after insects, and kindergarten ninjas Kat and Ana after the Japanese sword katana, which their names form when merged. I’ve wondered if Mona might be named directly after the famous painting, but it could be something that Nintendo retroactively decided to ape with all the “Mona Pizza” jokes. (EDIT: I recently learned that the Mona Lisa imagery that we in the U.S. got in WarioWare: Twisted! did not appear in the Japanese version. Weird.) And gloomy little Ashley was probably named to hint at a fire-and-brimstone badness that Ashley herself would probably like. The character elicited some accusations of Satanic leanings as a result of a supposed backward-coded message in WarioWare: Touched!. I have an old post on it, and even if you think you’ve heard the story, I think it’s more complicated than most know.
A while back, a German Mario told me that in his country, Petey Piranha is named Mutant Tyranha and is female — which would make sense, considering the strangeness of a male character framed in flower petals and wearing polka dotted bikini briefs. Years later, I’ve found that Petey’s gender switch may not apparently be the case, at least according to this site, which notes Mutant Tyranha as just being “gender neutral.” So I guess I’m no longer sure, though it seems at least worth noting that the character’s Spanish name, Floro Piraña, is male but the French one, Flora Piranha, is female, at least as far as grammar goes.
foreman spike: let’s not call him blackie, okay?
Foreman Spike — the bad guy in the Wrecking Crew games and a Wario look-alike — is known in Japan as Blackie. As it’s noted in this post, there’s a theory that the character’s Japanese name might alternately be translated as Breaky, which would be more in line with the game’s theme of demolition.
And, finally, to close out this Mario-themed post, three nearly forgotten characters from Super Mario Bros. 2.
anony-pixie, wart (but more often mamu), and the famous clawglip
I have written about each in an earlier post, so go there for the meat of these matters. Remember those fairies freed from the jar at the end of the game? Do they actually have names? And Wart, the game’s big bad: He’s been MIA ever since, not counting the many remakes. In this post, I talk about how it’s funny how his cameo in the Zelda title Link’s Awakening would assign him the name Mamu — Japanese for “wart”and a name he hadn’t gone by since his Doki Doki Panic days. And in the original, NES edition of Super Mario Bros. 2, a glaring instance of Engrish introduced the world to Clawglip instead of Clawgrip. In this post, I say the first Mario character created specifically for western audiences deserved better.
I’m ending this post with two of the most minor characters in any Mario game ever: the Jellyfish sisters, Merri and Gigi. These twin masseuses appear briefly in Mario & Luigi: Superstar Saga. Like many characters pairs in this game, Merri and Gigi mirror the Mario Bros. in that one sister wears red while the other wears green. When they introduced themselves, something about their names seemed familiar. It popped into my head later, long after I’d finished the game: Merri’s name is essentially Mario’s with the last syllable chopped off, while Gigi’s is just the last syllable of Luigi’s name. That’s a sneaky one there, Nintendo. It makes me wonder how many others have escaped my notice.
Super Paper Mario introduces a shapeshifting villain named Mimi. This vain, prissy character can make herself look like anyone and frequently takes on whatever form will cause the most trouble. Her name is notable in that it’s one letter short of the word mimic, which is what she does. But also, interpreted literally, the name Mimi can be read as “me me,” which is also relevant to the character in that she takes on alternate personas — that is, more than one “me” — and also that she’s such a narcissist — all “me,” all the time.
Other Mario-related posts:
Characters in the Mario games tend to have more straightforward names, but that doesn’t mean that they don’t lend themselves to some inspection. In fact, one of the first video game-related posts I ever put on this blog concerned the odd linguistic associations that Mario and Luigi have.
The most logical place to start, then: the Italian-American stereotype himself, Mario.
left to right: landlord, evil, pizza man, and similarly evil
The story behind Mario’s name — as put forth in many reliable sources, including Chris Kohler’s book Power-Up — is that it comes from Mario Segale (or Mario Segali, depending on your sources), who was landlord for Nintendo of America’s office around the time Mario Bros. came out and who apparently bore a resemblance to the portly, mustachioed hero. Given the attitudes most people have for their landlords, I have to imagine the comparison wasn’t necessarily flattering. Mario’s debut a few years earlier in Donkey Kong billed him as Jumpman — which, as a name, kind of blows — so I suppose we should be happy that Nintendo staff decided to mock their landlord when they did. I have no reason to question the story other than the fact that I have never seen any proof that Mr. Segale actually exists. I’m not alone: One guy has even begun a website to try to track Mr. Segale down. Similarly, it’s generally accepted that Luigi got his name from Mario & Luigi’s, a pizza place alleged to have existed at some point near Nintendo of America’s Redmond, Washington, office.
Confusing the issue further, however, is the theory that Mario and Luigi got their names from the Japanese words marui and ruiji, which mean “round” and “similar” respectively. (The former is also related to the name of the Maru Mari, an item in the Metroid series that’s now known as the Morph Ball.) The marui-ruiji theory is probably wrong, but it’s still interesting to consider. Mario does have a bit of a paunch nowadays, though he looked trimmer back when he was first named. (Early video graphics were ill-equipped to portray slight tubbiness.) And Luigi did debut in Mario Bros. as a palette swap — that is, he had Mario’s sprite with a different color scheme.
early mario and luigi, with the latter looking pretty damn similar
The marui-ruiji theory might have ended up seeming more believable as the result of the explanation behind the names of the other two “plumber” characters, Wario and Waluigi. Among people who follow these things, it’s fairly well known that Wario’s name comes from the Japanese adjective warui, meaning “evil.” Warui plus Mario equals Wario, with the fact that “W” looks like an inverted “M” apparently being a happy coincidence. All in all, a good play on words.
Luigi’s evil counterpart, Waluigi, isn’t so lucky. That pesky “L”/“R” problem, which so often rears its head in transliterations between English and Japanese, causes warui and Luigi’s name to blend together less seamlessly. If Nintendo has only named its Number One Player Two Ruigi instead of Luigi, some of the awkwardness English-speakers perceive in Waluigi’s name would have been avoided. Waluigi — or, transliterated differently, Waruiji — also happens to be an anagram for the Japanese word ijiwaru, which means “bad-tempered.” As far as I know, this too is just a coincidence. Because Waluigi’s hat bears an inverted “L,” some depict the character’s name as 7uigi, which might be the most sensible way to refer to this character with the awkward, awkward name.
The wa- prefix characters mostly end there, as we have yet to be beset with a particularly un-ladylike Wapeach, an unhelpful Watoad, a peaceful Wabowser or a heroic Wawario. There has, however, been a Wayoshi, though not by that name. (See below, where I talk about Yoshi.)
Other main characters in the Mario games don’t offer as much to think about, at least from what I’ve found.
peachy progression
Given the series’ propensity for naming characters after food — a trend throughout Japanese pop culture, really — it doesn’t seem remarkable that the games’ iconic female character would be named after something sweet. Princess Peach’s name in its Japanese form, however, could also be represented in English as Pichi, or “Peachy,” which makes for an accurate description of her unflappably positive personality. Yes, she has an alternate name in the U.S., where she was introduced as Princess Toadstool and went by the that name until 1996. It’s all but forgotten now, and perhaps for the better: Toadstool is an ugly name for any universe’s epitome of femininity.
Nintendo has saddled the prolific cake-baker with some unfortunate feminine stereotypes throughout the years, including one that pertains especially to this discussion of games and words: Her Super Mario RPG attack Psych Bomb is known in the original Japanese as Hisuterikku Bomu, or “Hysteric Bomb,” which, on the etymological level, expresses a certain degree of misogyny.
bald bowser, blue bowser and the bowser we all know and hate
I could swear that I remember reading somewhere that “Koopa” — the name that Bowser, the games’ main antagonist, goes by in Japan and his last name in the United States — comes from a term for plateware in some Asian country. Can’t find it now, though it seems relevant that the word is sometimes written as Kuppa in certain instances of English text in Japanese games. I’ve also read that the word Koopa would match the Japanese pronunciation of a Korean rice soup that can be represented in English text as gug-bab or guk-bap or some other such combination of similar syllables, but I’d have to check that with a food-minded linguist before I could say this claim is accurate. Supporting the gug-bab theory is a statement Miyamoto apparently made in an interview indicating that he decided upon Koopa over two other names based on Korean dishes: Yukke (yukhoe) and Bibinbap (bi bim bap).
As for Bowser’s American-only first name, I’d propose that it could come either from a certain type of water or fuel tanker — which would make sense, given the character’s size — or from Jon “Bowzer” Bauman of the rock group Sha Na Na. (Less of a badass association than one might have hoped for, but few names could hold a candle to the name Bowser was introduced as in the original Japanese version of Super Mario Bros.: Daimaō Kuppa, which translates either as “Great Demon King Koopa” or “Big Devil King Koopa.” And Bowser, regardless of its origin, is a hundred times cooler than Kerog, a mysterious alternate name the character has been stuck with in at least one piece of apparently Nintendo-sanctioned merchandise.)
Another theory as to the origin of the name Koopa relates it to a creature from Japanese mythology, the kappa. These water demons have little in common with the Super Mario Bros. villain other than that they like kidnapping people and are sometimes depicted as having turtle-like shells and beaks. In fact, the Japanese refer to the generic turtle enemies that Americans call Koopa or Koopa Troopa as Nokonoko, which translates to something like “unconcernedly,” apparently in reference to the way they stupidly walk in one direction without fear of being stomped or falling into holes. That their Japanese name sounds like the knock-knock noise their shells make when bouncing off a solid object is just a coincidence.
A quick aside: Kappas are common enough in Japanese culture that they show up pretty often in video games. They appear in Final Fantasy VI, as “imps,” and there’s also a pirate-accented one named Kapp’n in the Animal Crossing games that most American players would just assume was a turtle anyway. A major difference between kappas and turtles, however, is that the former has a hollow head filled with water that spills if they lean over. And if the water spills, the kappa dies. (So now you know what to do in an emergency.) The aspect of the creature is subtly reflected in Super Mario World, whose instruction manual identifies an area of the map as Kappa Mountain. The name never appears in the game itself, but it would appear to be named after the fact that a pond appearing on one part of the mountain looks a little like the water-filled depression in a kappa’s head.
clockwise from left: kappas as they appear in nature, kappa mountain, kapp’n, final fantasy’s kappas
Kappa Mountain, by the way, looks a hell of a lot more like a mountain on the map than the area that the game’s text actually refers to as such: Cookie Mountain, a stage in the fourth area that just might have inspired the name of TV on the Radio’s second album, Return to Cookie Mountain. I’ve never read any confirmation from the band that it’s true, though.
Back on the subject of Bowser, I have nothing to back up the Sha Na Na theory, but it seems less ludicrous than it might initially if considered alongside the names that Bowser’s seven awful children got when they were introduced in Super Mario Bros. 3. In order, the children were Larry Koopa, Morton Koopa Jr., Wendy O. Koopa, Iggy Koopa, Roy Koopa, Lemmy Koopa and Ludwig von Koopa — nearly all of whom have names that resemble those of famous musicians.
times two: iggy, morton, lemmy, ludwig, roy, wendy, larry, and bowser/bowzer
In order: Wendy O. Williams, Iggy Pop, Roy Orbison (whose habit of wearing sunglasses is shared by his Super Mario Bros. counterpart), Lemmy from Motörhead, and Ludwig von Beethoven. Morton would seem to take his name from the talk show host Morton Downey Jr., who was popular around the time Super Mario Bros. 3 was released. And Larry is a bit of a mystery, though I say the apparent reference to Downey has led some to assume his namesake is another talk show host, Larry King. Nintendo has never confirmed anything one way or the other, so this all remains just speculation, but it’s speculation that seems pretty damn likely, especially considering that subsequent Mario characters were also named after rock stars and the like — among them a boss in Super Mario World being apparently named for Trent Reznor of Nine Inch Nails (Reader Kevin T points out that another possible source for the Reznor character could be a heater manufacturing company of the same name.) Years after introducing Bowser’s brood, Nintendo ditched them in favor of a single offspring with a far less cool namesake: Bowser Jr.
Less speculative are the name origins for Toad and Yoshi. The former, being an anthropomorphic mushroom, seems to take his name from the word toadstool, which seems a bit unimaginative given that Peach’s name also used to be Toadstool.
In addition to being a Japanese first name — for humans, that is — Yoshi’s name also serves in Japanese as an interjection meaning “Okay!” or “All right!” He is also one of the few major Mario characters to have a distinctly Japanese-sounding name worldwide, though some early and unofficial materials Anglicize his name as Yossy. (The legendary Kart Fighter, for example.)
Commenters have pointed out that Yoshi’s name has twice been used as an inspiration for similar characters. Mountainchops notes that Super Mario RPG featured a character named Boshi who, in the Japanese version, was called Washi or Waruishi, similar to how Wario is the evil Mario and Waluigi is the evil Luigi. And Elena notes that Dorrie, the sea serpent helper from Super Mario 64 and New Super Mario Bros., is named Doshi in Japan.
beloved mario characters say “hi, we lack identity!”
Toad and Yoshi also belong to a group of Mario characters whose names double as generic terms for all of their kind — that is, the name Toad can refer to the specific character Toad but also generically to any Average Joe mushroom head, even when these characters actually have their own name. For example, you could say that Toad’s female counterpart, Toadette, is a Toad. (I wonder what Nintendo will make of the playable Toads in the New Super Mario Bros. Wii announced at this year’s E3. Will they get names or will they just be Blue Toad and Yellow Toad?) Same for Yoshi, as well as for other characters like Birdo and Kamek. (I’ve previously written about these characters names and this very Japanese sense of self and group identity in this post.)
Speaking of Birdo, she has quite of few issues regarding her name, not that a character who suffers from so much gender confusion needs any more complications in her life. Birdo — whose Japanese name, Kyasarin, can be transliterated into English as either Catherine or Cassie, depending on who’s doing the transliterating — seems to get stuck with various names referring to animals of the feathered variety regardless of the fact that she looks like a dinosaur. Her name in Italy, for example, is Strutzi, which would seem to come from the Italian word struzzo, meaning “ostrich.” (I have up a separate post on Birdo’s bird-related name problems as well.)
Finally, Kamek — the broom-riding wizard Koopa — gets his name some the Japanese kame, meaning “turtle,” which seems odd given that all the Koopas are turtles. Why should just one guy get to claim that in his name?
And then there’s Donkey Kong. It so happens that the big ape has a name that’s probably made more people scratch their heads than any other video game character.
donkey kong: barrel-tosser, chest-thumper, necktie-wearer
His last name seems likes a clear reference to King Kong, but the Donkey part doesn’t make sense. Contrary to various urban legends that say otherwise, Donkey Kong earned his first name as a result of Miyamoto wanting to call the villain something that conveyed a sense of stubbornness and stupidity. He arrived at donkey. Miyamoto himself said as much in a 2001 interview he gave at the Electronic Entertainment Expo. Thus, the name didn’t result from some butchering of Monkey Kong through a typo or communication error. Chris Kohler’s Power-Up also notes that the word kong had been used to mean “large” in Japanese ever since the 1933 King Kong.
It probably results only from people like me trying to put an English major spin on things, but there’s another theory about Donkey Kong’s name that, however implausible, put this character in an interesting literary context. Remember King Midas? The character from Greek mythology who can turn anything into gold just by touching it? There’s a less widely known story involving the very same character pissing off the god Apollo and winding up with a pair of donkey ears. Apparently a heightened sense of hearing did little to allay the concerns of Midas, who found the ears to be unbecoming of a king, so he did everything he could to conceal his condition. In a loose sense, this sets up a dichotomy between kings and donkeys that is reflected in Donkey Kong’s name, but only if you compare it to King Kong’s — that is, the video game character is such a galoot that he’s the opposite of a king. It’s a stretch, I’ll admit, but the theory allows for a way to view the character.
left: “little.” middle: “little,” in a different sense. right: “tenth.”
Probably because the latter-day Donkey Kong games are often developed by non-Japanese publishers, a lot of the names of the characters in them are less mysterious. I recently found out, however, that Diddy Kong — Donkey’s main sidekick and the character that essentially replaced Donkey Kong Jr. — got his name from a British term meaning “small.” And “small,” I suppose, is a good substitute for “junior.”
The first name of the other sidekick, Dixie Kong, means “tenth.” Though I’d like to report that her debut marked the tenth Donkey Kong game, it would require some funky math to make that work. The fact that she wears pink — she’s the girl, get it? — is actually also appropriate in light of how the character is, like Diddy, a diminutive sidekick for Donkey Kong. Just as “little” Diddy Kong replaced Donkey Kong Jr., Dixie could be seen as a successor to a fairly obscure character that appeared in the edutainment title Donkey Kong Jr. Math: a pink ape whose name, for all practical purposes, also seems to be Donkey Kong Jr. I prefer to call him Pinky Kong, because palette swaps aside, calling them both Junior is a little messed up.
Perhaps coincidentally, both Diddy and Dixie’s names function as codes in the games they debut in. In Donkey Kong Country, the Diddy code — entering down, Y, down, down Y on the contol pad, effectively spelling out “D-Y-D-D-Y” — allows the player to access the game’s bonus rounds. In the sequel, Diddy’s Kong-Quest, a similar code — down, Y, X, Y, or “D-Y-X-Y” — also unlocks hidden features. I have no clue if the characters’ names were chosen with possible codes that could be entered using the buttons on the Super Nintendo control pad in mind.
Daisy, the Mario games’ Girl Number Two, happens to have a five-letter name that doubles as a generic English noun, just like Peach. Since Miyamoto named Zelda in honor of the wife of F. Scott Fitzgerald, however, I wonder if Daisy could have been named after a certain fictional woman associated with Fitzgerald: Daisy Buchanan from The Great Gatsby. Unlike most Mario characters, however, Daisy was created by the late Nintendo pioneer, Gunpei Yokoi, so it would seem just as likely that she, like Peach, would take her name from a word named for a pleasant, organic thing.
the many faces of princess daisy
On the subject of Daisy, there’s an interesting but non-name-related theory about her and how the evolution of her appearance eventually had her stealing the face and overall look of Azalea, a Mario series C-stringer and one of the humans who appear in the Mario Golf series. I talk about all this in a previous post, so check it out if you’d like proof that Daisy is an identity thief.
pauline, from her pixelated days to more shapely and more current
It’s also addressed in a previous post, but might as well bring it up here: Pauline, the first Mario damsel and the heroine of the original Donkey Kong, is named after Polly James, wife of onetime Nintendo of America warehouse manager Don James. She presumably picked up the name when the title reached the U.S. and Nintendo staffers realized that her original Japanese name, simply Lady, wouldn’t cut it. I’d always presumed that she took her name after the often-kidnapped and sometimes-tied-to-railroad-tracks heroine Pauline, as in The Perils of Pauline, but the two imperiled Paulines seem to have come into existence separately. And based of the fact that Mario, Luigi and Pauline all seem to have been named after real-life entities familiar to early Nintendo of America employees, I wonder if there might be a living, breathing namesake for Stanley the Bugman, the Mario stand-in insect exterminator from Donkey Kong 3.
Super Mario Galaxy introduced Rosalina — less a damsel and more of a benevolent lady Galactus with the power to control the cosmos. But despite being one of the mightiest female characters I the whole Mario series, Rosalina suffers from an identity crisis in that she seems to go by a different name in most translations of the Galaxy, much more so than most major series characters do. In Spanish-speaking territories in North America, she’s still Rosalina, but to Spanish-speakers in Europe, she’s Estela, “tail end of a comet.” In France, she’s Harmonie, “harmony,” and in Italy she’s Rosalinda.
the space queen, her glinda the good witch prototype, and the loveliest orbit of all
As I discuss in a post on Super Mario RPG villain Valentina, I’m willing to bet that Nintendo nixed her original Japanese name — either Margarita or Margarie Margarita, depending on your source — from the English version to keep alcohol references out of the game. (A similar decision resulted in the name of the Wine River being changes to Midas River in the U.S. release.) What’s weird, though, is that she still carries a cocktail glass with her — curiously not a margarita but what looks like a martini.
I’ve always thought that another Super Mario RPG character, Mallow, had a name that might be more clever than it might initially seem. The puffy little weather wizard is one of a handful of male Mario characters to fall into that aforementioned category of characters named after pleasant objects. (Compare Pine in Yoshi’s Safari, Peasley in Mario & Luigi: Superstar Saga or Cricket in WarioWare: Smooth Moves.) And though the name Mallow makes sense for this character, as he is soft and sweet like a marshmallow, there’s an added layer of meaning to his name, even if the crew that named him might not have intended it.
Today, marshmallows are probably one of the least organic food products in existence. Back in the day, however, the candy was made from a paste derived the plant Althaea officianalis, a member of the mallow family that grows near marshes. This is appropriate to the character because he grows up at a kind of marsh — namely the Tadpole Pond, where his infant self washed up one day and was raised by the local frogfolk, hence why Mallow spends most of the game telling people he’s a tadpole. So Mallow’s name is a double reference — to the character’s spongy body and to the fact that he’s literally a marsh Mallow, if you want to look at it that way. Like I said, probably not an intentional reference, but a neat one.
As a character who debuted a haunted house game like Luigi’s Mansion, E. Gadd’s name seems appropriate. Obviously, it’s a pun on egad, which is what a person might yell if he saw a ghost… and, also, if this person were especially formal and living in a different time period. The name is more interesting in Japanese. There, he’s Oya Mā Hakase — hakase meaning “professor” and oya mā meaning something like “oh my!” However, since E. Gadd was designed by Nintendo’s Yoshiyuki Oyama, it seems probable that he named the character after himself. A double reference.
Two of Wario’s damsels — Queen Merelda in Wario Land: Shake It and Princess Shokora in Wario Land Advance — both keep up the tradition of women being named after things that are pretty, taste good, smell nice or are adorably small. If Peach is pink, Daisy is yellow, Pauline is Red, and Rosalina is blue, then Merelda is very clearly green. It’s appropriate, then, that her name happens to be an anagram for emerald as well as just one syllable shy of esmeralda, a given name meaning “emerald” and the Spanish and Portuguese word for this gem. (In German, notably, she’s Midori — the Japanese word for “green” and a common bright green liqueur.) Despite not having a brown color scheme, Shokora’s name is a Japanese approximation for either chocolate or the French chocolat, depending on the source. For more on Merelda, see a previous post specifically about her; and see the Shokora post for more on her.
chocolate, a green gem, the famous painting (?), and the child bride of satan
The food name theme is especially prevalent in the Wario games, what with him sparring with the likes of Captain Syrup, Count Cannoli, Carpaccio, and Tiaramisu, the last of whom has such a clunker name that I gave her a spot on this series’ list of the worst names in video games. This is less common in the WarioWare series, where characters tend to be named after inedible objects — 9-Volt and 18-Volt after batteries, Cricket and Mantis after insects, and kindergarten ninjas Kat and Ana after the Japanese sword katana, which their names form when merged. I’ve wondered if Mona might be named directly after the famous painting, but it could be something that Nintendo retroactively decided to ape with all the “Mona Pizza” jokes. (EDIT: I recently learned that the Mona Lisa imagery that we in the U.S. got in WarioWare: Twisted! did not appear in the Japanese version. Weird.) And gloomy little Ashley was probably named to hint at a fire-and-brimstone badness that Ashley herself would probably like. The character elicited some accusations of Satanic leanings as a result of a supposed backward-coded message in WarioWare: Touched!. I have an old post on it, and even if you think you’ve heard the story, I think it’s more complicated than most know.
A while back, a German Mario told me that in his country, Petey Piranha is named Mutant Tyranha and is female — which would make sense, considering the strangeness of a male character framed in flower petals and wearing polka dotted bikini briefs. Years later, I’ve found that Petey’s gender switch may not apparently be the case, at least according to this site, which notes Mutant Tyranha as just being “gender neutral.” So I guess I’m no longer sure, though it seems at least worth noting that the character’s Spanish name, Floro Piraña, is male but the French one, Flora Piranha, is female, at least as far as grammar goes.
foreman spike: let’s not call him blackie, okay?
Foreman Spike — the bad guy in the Wrecking Crew games and a Wario look-alike — is known in Japan as Blackie. As it’s noted in this post, there’s a theory that the character’s Japanese name might alternately be translated as Breaky, which would be more in line with the game’s theme of demolition.
And, finally, to close out this Mario-themed post, three nearly forgotten characters from Super Mario Bros. 2.
anony-pixie, wart (but more often mamu), and the famous clawglip
I have written about each in an earlier post, so go there for the meat of these matters. Remember those fairies freed from the jar at the end of the game? Do they actually have names? And Wart, the game’s big bad: He’s been MIA ever since, not counting the many remakes. In this post, I talk about how it’s funny how his cameo in the Zelda title Link’s Awakening would assign him the name Mamu — Japanese for “wart”and a name he hadn’t gone by since his Doki Doki Panic days. And in the original, NES edition of Super Mario Bros. 2, a glaring instance of Engrish introduced the world to Clawglip instead of Clawgrip. In this post, I say the first Mario character created specifically for western audiences deserved better.
I’m ending this post with two of the most minor characters in any Mario game ever: the Jellyfish sisters, Merri and Gigi. These twin masseuses appear briefly in Mario & Luigi: Superstar Saga. Like many characters pairs in this game, Merri and Gigi mirror the Mario Bros. in that one sister wears red while the other wears green. When they introduced themselves, something about their names seemed familiar. It popped into my head later, long after I’d finished the game: Merri’s name is essentially Mario’s with the last syllable chopped off, while Gigi’s is just the last syllable of Luigi’s name. That’s a sneaky one there, Nintendo. It makes me wonder how many others have escaped my notice.
Super Paper Mario introduces a shapeshifting villain named Mimi. This vain, prissy character can make herself look like anyone and frequently takes on whatever form will cause the most trouble. Her name is notable in that it’s one letter short of the word mimic, which is what she does. But also, interpreted literally, the name Mimi can be read as “me me,” which is also relevant to the character in that she takes on alternate personas — that is, more than one “me” — and also that she’s such a narcissist — all “me,” all the time.
Other Mario-related posts:
- The most obscure Mario characters ever
- Verbal similarities between hard-hatted enemies in Mario and Mega Man
- Toad: the ungrateful mushroom
- The Mario overworld theme and Van Halen’s “Jump”
- An explanation for the “P” in the P-Wing
- Name etymologies for geographic names in Super Mario Land
- Stage name changes in Super Mario World and the other other bad Yoshi
- “In Praise of Pixels and in Search of Super Mario Bros. 5”
- The Super Mario Bros. theme was at one point assigned lyrics
- What, exactly, are field horsehair plants?
- Princess Peach: Feminist?
- Part One: Legend of Zelda
- Part Three: Sonic the Hedgehog
- Part Four: Street Fighter and other Capcom titles
- Part Five: Final Fantasy
- Part Six: Final Fantasy IV and Dante’s Inferno
- Part Seven: Metroid and Kid Icarus
- Part Eight: Castlevania
- Part Nine: Earthbound/Mother
- Part Ten: Chrono Trigger
- Part Eleven: Secret of Mana/Seiken Densetsu
- Part Twelve: Mega Man
- Part Thirteen: Miscellaneous Nintendo titles (Kirby, Pikmin, Pokemon, Animal Crossing, Duck Hunt, Clu Clu Land)
- Part Fourteen: Odds and Ends (Guilty Gear, Ogre Battle, Samurai Shodown, Pac-Man, Mappy, Adventure Island)
- Part Fifteen: The Worst Names in Video Games
- And the entire original post
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