Today for the last Mario Monday of National Poetry Month, I have something special to share with you. I've just finished reading If All the World and Love Were Young, a collection by Irish poet Stephen Sexton. Sexton grew up playing Super Mario World, and finds himself revisiting the game as a way to cope with his mother's illness and then her death. Each poem has the title of a Super Mario World level, in order of progression from the beginning of the game through the end.
In the opening note of his book, he explains that the Super Nintendo (SNES) on which he played the game is a 16-bit console — that 16 bits is "how much memory the system can process at one time." He has hit upon such a precise metaphor for grief. So much of grieving is about memories, and there certainly is a limit to how much the griever can process at any given time. He reinforces this point by allowing himself exactly 16 syllables in each line of poetry. (If you've ever counted syllables to write a haiku, this effort is like that, but boss level.)
I have never played Super Mario World, but it was a game Rader really enjoyed. The original SNES version came out in 1990, but the game was rereleased for the Wii and Wii U virtual consoles. Rader likely discovered it when he was about 9, the same age as Stephen was.
I'll write a longer review for the foundation website, but for now I'll just say I deeply appreciate this book (it always seems weird to use the word "enjoy" when grief is involved).