Insomniac
Spyro The Dragon

Many years have passed.

I remember when they gave it to me in 1999, attached to the PlayStation, the legendary 32-bit. It was October 5th, my birthday.

Do you know Spyro? No, I don't.

You don't know what you've lost.

Spyro is the little dragon champion of justice, destined to save his lineage of 80 dragons. Gnasty Gnork has turned these giants into stone throughout the dragon worlds, and the only one exempt from the curse is the little one. It will be an epic journey. Spyro will have to travel through 6 worlds in order to reach the evil monster.

A confusing journey, from portal to portal, perhaps somewhat limited in graphics, but strong in playability and fun. Spyro doesn't know how to swim, compared to the later episodes, but he still has the peculiarity of being able to glide over canyons. And he can roast the behind of anyone who crosses his path. If they can't be burned, he will deliver a powerful headbutt.

It's a fairly simple game, but it's highly addictive. Supported by beautiful music by Steve Copeland (search for the game's soundtrack on emule), it's an experience that, at least in childhood, generates emotion and involvement. Spyro is somewhat the archetype of all of us when we were young, with a great desire to conquer the world and do justice against those who don't deserve to be in higher places. He is somewhat of a political icon, a sort of Deus Ex Machina of the people. A David against a much larger Goliath.

And yes, you can get attached to a dragon. You can also carry it as a dream, as an imaginary friend, as an adventure companion. And I don't think it's madness. At least for that era, the late '90s, up until the early 2000s, we were absorbed by technology like water by a paper towel. Without perhaps realizing that it was something, yes, bigger than us, but it was also a way of escaping, if not opening up to new horizons.

Personally, I saw it that way. Soaring into the sky with Spyro had a particular meaning, it meant trying, despite everything. Even though the clash was unequal. Even though someone was laughing behind your back. Even though you were small and defenseless. I only realized it much later, only now. After having experienced even small injustices, ridicule, and so on, I understood that games like this built the armor I have now. It's hard to find yourself in a state of being overweight and distanced.

And it's not even nice to think that when I was playing Spyro, it was just me believing I could muster strength and shoulder others.

After so much time, I succeeded. And this game is no longer just entertainment, but now a social myth.