The thing that clinched my need to play Dragon Quest IX was listening to the podcast whose title is lost to brain cell death and time.

In it, the 'caster was talking about the mania that seems to take over Japan whenever a new DQ game comes out. He spoke about being in a night club late at night, surreptitiously watching a beautiful woman come through the door. As his eyes tracked her, she sat at the bar, and pulled a DS out of her purse. Like a true geek, he walked by to see what it was that such a vision would play. In a bar. After midnight.

Of course, it was Dragon Quest IX.

It seemed to me like a scene out of an unfilmed gamer version of Lost In Translation. It felt oddly magical, that this was a glimpse of somewhat more perfect universe. Much of tied into my still romantic views of Japanese gamer culture, and of my dream of one day walking Akhibara, undoubtedly dressed up and cool like a William Gibson anti-hero.

And yet for all the mystique I piled upon the game, impatiently waiting for it to arrive from as yet to be proven but I've got my hunches sadistically slow Amazon, I still felt a bit of disappointment when I began to play. It's the same with most JRPGS--I think there's a part of me that, once put into the gaming console, expects the game to turn into a GeekGate into that perfect Tokyo. When it is revealed to be just what it is--a game--I feel a bit crestfallen. It reminds me of when I landed in England for the first time, expecting to find the country that lived in my imagination (Wombles, Doctor Who, EastEnders, Enid Blyton), and found...that it was just another place. And the carpet in Gatwick was stained and torn, and no one was wearing derbies.

But as I played DQ, I began to see it not so much as a love letter to Japan as it is a loving temple built for gamers with borderline OCD. You can get stuff, and make more stuff, and some of that stuff? It's hard to find. But when you do find it, you'll feel fabulous. Until you read on a forum that there is something even more fabulous. In a magic dungeon that you need to find the treasure map for NOW.

The love of the ridiculous is amply rewarded. An off the shoulder dress, for example, is better defence than a ranger's leather outfit. You can make helmets out of Slimes. An unlocked Feat is Pratfall.

Imagine trying to sell this game here in North America. In a continent of shooters, something like Dragon Quest would be met with blank stares, and if forethought had been employed, a lever would be pulled which would cause the floor to drop away. With a bit more forethought, there might be sharks circling beneath.

And now I love the game for different reasons. The magic is now more in the game than it is in the country of origin. And yet, it somehow deepens my fascination with Japan, that something like DQ that can attract so many fans proclaims that, in terms of gamer culture, I'd find a home. An illusory home, but those are usually the best kind.

But still, I like to think of that first magic moment, of the girl in the bar, of neon flickering outside in kanji, of a brief shared smile over something ridiculous yet vital.

And wonder what class she was playing.