koopdawhoop
5 reviews liked by koopdawhoop
This review contains spoilers
cw: allusions to suicide, self-harm, and bodily harm. discussions of mental health and social phobia included.
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All around my house, there is a garden made of glass. It looks so beautiful outside my window. During the day, the light from the sun shining down on it refracts through the trees made of twisting and flowers made of tiny perfect shards, a dazzling kalidescope of colours dancing through the garden. And at night, the light from the stars shines down on each one of the mirrorleaves that make up the bushes and trees, each one twinkling and dazzling with the light of an entire sea of stars.
I want nothing more to get closer, to see the forest with my own eyes, feel it with my own hands, hear it with my own ears. But every time I get close, every time i try to venture outside and into the world beyond my window, it hurts. I try to walk through it, as carefully as I can, but thorns that others can see but I can't cut into me. I shatter fragile flowers into a thousand tiny jagged shards with a single clumsy footstep. And sometimes I catch my face in reflections in the glass, reflecting a twisted, malformed image of the self that exists in the mind's eye, all the imperfections and flaws cutting all the deeper for their concreteness. Each time I try to walk through the garden, each time I try to exist in that space, in that moment, I shatter beautiful things around me at every turn, without intending, without meaning, and hurt myself in turn.
And so, I flinch. I retreat. I walk away, back behind closed doors. Where I can't break anything else. Where I can't hurt anymore.
And I stay there.
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I've always been fascinated by the relationship visual novels have with space and time. Almost all of the ones I've played - from serious personal reflective pieces to light-hearted romances - contain within them multiple parallel worlds, different realities of the same story spiraling off in their own directions. Romance stories that contain within them a dozen universes where the main character dates each member of the cast, stories with countless detours and Bad Ends on the way to a True Conclusion...it's not unheard of in literature, but it's ubiquity within the VN space is striking. Even Umineko, the most notable VN I have played (some of) that does not have branching routes or choices, plays extensively in a field of alternate possibilities and routes in a way that assumes familiarity with forms and rhythms that simply isn't given outside the Visual Novel. Even setting aside my lingering university Grant Morrison Phase giving me Multiverse Brain Worms that only the media environment of 2022 could entirely rid me of, there's something entrancing about a work that contains multitudes of itself within it, rivers that break off and flow in altogether separate directions from a source they all draw from, answering the same questions in different ways.
And yet, even in games like Zero Time Dilemma that are absolutely lascivious in their interest in parallel worlds, rarely has this aspect of a visual novel truly affected me. The ways in which the different branches and routes do, certainly, but the act of choosing itself rarely strikes me in such a way. It's connective tissue, not a beating heart in and of itself.
This cannot be said for one night, hot springs, a game I played last year, and have attempted to write about multiple times, only to fail each and every time. A game where the use of these choices, the use of these other realities, and other possibilities, existing side-by-side, affected me more than I could have ever imagined.
Mechanically, one night is simple. You simply read the story of Haru, a trans woman, and her friends visiting the hot springs for a birthday party, dealing with the frictions and relationships that Haru confronts along the way. Through that story, you make little decisions that branch the narrative in different ways. Some choices will simply move the narrative along in a different direction, while other choices will make you lose one of three hearts on the top of your screen, and if you lose all three, you get a "bad" ending. Classic visual novel stuff. But how one night presents these choices, how it presents the consequences of getting a game over, and how I responded to both...it was...
it was more than i could take.
i thought i knew. i thought i knew what i was getting into. i had played another of npckc's games, tomato clinic, before this one, and it was mostly just, well, cute. that's not to say there was nothing there, it felt very true to the awkward role of educator average queer people are often forced to play for well-meaning but uninformed cishet people, but overwhelmingly what it did was make me smile and not much else. and y'know i was expecting the same thing here. i was expecting to smile, to have a nice time on my lunch break.
that didn't happen.
what happened instead was that this game hit me with incalculable force, all the stronger for how completely unexpected it was, it's deliberately small presentation cutting deep into in ways that left me genuinely shaken and deep in thought about who i am and why i act the way that i do.
that's a hyperbolic statement. and i expect, for many people, it won't ring true. but it did for me. and articulating why requires articulating...myself, somewhat.
full disclosure, i first played this about a year ago. and i've tried to write this review multiple times before. but I just found no way of doing so without talking explicitly about why it made me feel the ways that it did, what about it that caused it to hit so hard. excessive auto-biography is a bad habit i fell into far often when i was writing more regularly on letterboxd and i have tried to avoid that here, to not treat a work's relation to me as the beginning and end of its critique. i am simply not a very interesting person, and saying "i personally related to this work" for a piece of criticism doesn't make for compelling writing by default. i don't think i've always succeeded, but it is something i have tried to aspire beyond on backloggd. i just found that impossible for one night hot springs. and i still do. and yet, i still want to talk about this game, what i think it does and has to say, and if i have to talk about myself to do so, then that is what will have to happen.
so, apologies. this is One of Those.
i am a non-binary trans person. i am also autistic, described to me then as "asperger's syndrome", and was diagnosed at a young age because I was a particularly...noticeable case of it. in addition, i was also diagnosed at a relatively young age with social anxiety disorder, then described to me as "social phobia". autism manifests in myriad different ways for myriad different people, and what is true for one person will not ring true for others. one autistic person i knew in university was one of the most socially capable people i have ever known, effortlessly charming and quick-witted in a way i am not or never have been. i struggle immensely with tone, expressions, and conversational flow, of knowing when to say the right thing, or how to say it. i speak without full confidence that my meaning will be expressed, only having hope that it will land how i intend to, without hurting anyone around me, and if i do, i hope only that i can recognise it and make amends for it immediately. whether this creates or simply feeds into my social anxiety disorder i can't say for certain, but the way others will speak in ways in ways i don't entirely understand i will respond in ways that i less comprehend and more simply Hope are the way one is Supposed To Respond certainly does not help the fact that i approach most conversations with almost everyone in the world with a certain degree of nervousness, if not outright fear, whether it's hoping to make a good impression on someone new, or hoping i don't accidentally hurt the feelings of someone i care about, there's always a reason to feel nervous about the very simple act of interacting with another human being in the world. being non-binary doesn't help much either, as in the majority of situations that take place in areas where i am not able to make my pronouns clear up front, misgendering and misrecognition isn't so much a possibility as it is a certainty.
if you've interacted with me personally at all you almost certainly think of me as oblivious or distant, speaking clumsily, awkwardly, stand-offishly, or any combination of these or any other, for which I apologize, because even reaching this level of capability requires a level of effort on my behalf that often leaves me completely exhausted from even basic interactions. none of this means i don't enjoy being with others, for me, no interaction is natural or free-flowing, it's a panicked and practiced effort to keep my head above water with immense effort.
so, often? i will flinch. i will shudder. i will apologize - for any unintended slight, for my existence as a whole. out of fear, out of resignation, out of the crawling voice in the back of my skull that tells me that no one - no one - wants to be around me, ever - i will find ways to extricate myself or excuse myself from situations, sometimes from all things altogether. faced with friction, it is easier to simply relent, to stand aside, rather than to speak up, because my voice is coarse and harsh and i cannot stand the noise it makes as it crawls out of my throat.
time and time again, i have taken the path of least resistance, so, when i played one night hot springs...i did the same. when haru suffered the routine emotionless deadnaming that is the common result of interactions in the world, i instinctively picked the options that made her flinch, shudder, to take the path of least resistance, to allow herself to be walked over rather than assert herself. as i do each time i play through a vn like this for the first time, i picked the options that struck as natural, and each and every time, it led me down paths that ranged from self-humiliating to outwardly self-destructive, to erode away at Haru's confidence because i had none, until eventually she can't take any more, and retreats into herself mid-party, until she vanishes, leaving the concern of her friends in her wake.
this is my world. this is the world i have made for myself. this closed-off, tiny thing, where i slam shut every door i have to knock on out of fear of what i might find on the other side. playing this game forced me to confront things about myself that part of me might have thought were natural, or even noble, boldly self-sacrificing myself, excusing myself from the company of others for their own good. but really, it was just cowardice, in the face of a world that is difficult, that is challenging, that hurts and where, yes, you can cause hurt in turn. but there's nothing noble about hiding yourself away in a dark corner of a distant room, afraid to even speak. one night, hot springs, despite it's incredibly warm, soft visuals and gentle music, is absolutely uncompromising in what it revealed about the way i so often choose to live my life.
it's a depiction made all the more heartbreaking by the results of resisting my natural instincts, peering into the alternate worlds in this story, and seeing for myself the words i have left unsaid, the friends left unmade, the closed-off hearts that could have been opened, but remained sealed out of fear. there are some really warm, beautifully written scenes in one night, hot springs, and it's only by seeing every path, by walking down every door, by availing yourself of the power visual novels grant you to see every possibility in this single night at the hot springs in a way you never could in real life, can you see the full shape of these people and the feelings they have for one another. something is always left unsaid, unheard.
each time i leave my house, each time i meet with friends, each time i poke my head around to my roommates, each time i log on to this website or any other, i am haru, and her choices become my choices. to risk walking barefoot through a garden of glass for what i know to lie on the other side, or to remain behind it, and make of it an insurmountable wall that grows smaller and smaller as my world contracts more and more into that darkened corner in my room. but there is a wider world out there, full of people i want to see, full of potential great memories and warm moments. not every night at the hot springs will be good. there will always be opportunities i cannot take, things left unsaid, and things left unheard. but if i flinch and retreat every time i face difficulties, every time it seems like this might be a bad night at the hot springs, then i'll never have a good one. i'll never have that night where i make a new friend, reconnect with an old one, or tell someone how i really feel about them.
the cringey, melodramatic thing i wrote at the top of this review? that's the best picture i can paint about what it feels like to live behind my eyes, of trying as best as i can to communicate fully and completely with the people i love because i want to be with them and enjoy their company more than anything else in the world, but knowing that it will always be difficult, knowing that it requires constant, agonising effort. it's not the same as feeling that, every day. i do not think writing, or video games, are true empathy machines, despite assertions to the contrary rising in both gaming journalism and academic spaces in the past couple years. i don't think video games can make you feel what it is like to be trans, or autistic, or socially anxious. neither this review, nor one night, hot springs will make you feel like what it feels like to be me.
but do they have to? i don't think they do. i think all they have to do, in the sounds they make chiming with another, in how they look matching an image etched into your heart, in the words they speak, and how they feel to play, to produce some kind of image that resonates, some kind of emotion that resounds...to reach someone, anyone, and maybe even be reached in turn.
and it isn't easy. believe me, i know.
but when it works? when you reach out a metaphorical hand, and meet another? it is so, so worth it in the end.
there is no reason to believe npckc will ever read this. but, i'll knock on that door anyway, speak up anyway, just in case my words reach theirs.
Thank you for your game!
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All around my house, there is a garden made of glass. It looks so beautiful outside my window. During the day, the light from the sun shining down on it refracts through the trees made of twisting and flowers made of tiny perfect shards, a dazzling kalidescope of colours dancing through the garden. And at night, the light from the stars shines down on each one of the mirrorleaves that make up the bushes and trees, each one twinkling and dazzling with the light of an entire sea of stars.
I want nothing more to get closer, to see the forest with my own eyes, feel it with my own hands, hear it with my own ears. But every time I get close, every time i try to venture outside and into the world beyond my window, it hurts. I try to walk through it, as carefully as I can, but thorns that others can see but I can't cut into me. I shatter fragile flowers into a thousand tiny jagged shards with a single clumsy footstep. And sometimes I catch my face in reflections in the glass, reflecting a twisted, malformed image of the self that exists in the mind's eye, all the imperfections and flaws cutting all the deeper for their concreteness. Each time I try to walk through the garden, each time I try to exist in that space, in that moment, I shatter beautiful things around me at every turn, without intending, without meaning, and hurt myself in turn.
And so, I flinch. I retreat. I walk away, back behind closed doors. Where I can't break anything else. Where I can't hurt anymore.
And I stay there.
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I've always been fascinated by the relationship visual novels have with space and time. Almost all of the ones I've played - from serious personal reflective pieces to light-hearted romances - contain within them multiple parallel worlds, different realities of the same story spiraling off in their own directions. Romance stories that contain within them a dozen universes where the main character dates each member of the cast, stories with countless detours and Bad Ends on the way to a True Conclusion...it's not unheard of in literature, but it's ubiquity within the VN space is striking. Even Umineko, the most notable VN I have played (some of) that does not have branching routes or choices, plays extensively in a field of alternate possibilities and routes in a way that assumes familiarity with forms and rhythms that simply isn't given outside the Visual Novel. Even setting aside my lingering university Grant Morrison Phase giving me Multiverse Brain Worms that only the media environment of 2022 could entirely rid me of, there's something entrancing about a work that contains multitudes of itself within it, rivers that break off and flow in altogether separate directions from a source they all draw from, answering the same questions in different ways.
And yet, even in games like Zero Time Dilemma that are absolutely lascivious in their interest in parallel worlds, rarely has this aspect of a visual novel truly affected me. The ways in which the different branches and routes do, certainly, but the act of choosing itself rarely strikes me in such a way. It's connective tissue, not a beating heart in and of itself.
This cannot be said for one night, hot springs, a game I played last year, and have attempted to write about multiple times, only to fail each and every time. A game where the use of these choices, the use of these other realities, and other possibilities, existing side-by-side, affected me more than I could have ever imagined.
Mechanically, one night is simple. You simply read the story of Haru, a trans woman, and her friends visiting the hot springs for a birthday party, dealing with the frictions and relationships that Haru confronts along the way. Through that story, you make little decisions that branch the narrative in different ways. Some choices will simply move the narrative along in a different direction, while other choices will make you lose one of three hearts on the top of your screen, and if you lose all three, you get a "bad" ending. Classic visual novel stuff. But how one night presents these choices, how it presents the consequences of getting a game over, and how I responded to both...it was...
it was more than i could take.
i thought i knew. i thought i knew what i was getting into. i had played another of npckc's games, tomato clinic, before this one, and it was mostly just, well, cute. that's not to say there was nothing there, it felt very true to the awkward role of educator average queer people are often forced to play for well-meaning but uninformed cishet people, but overwhelmingly what it did was make me smile and not much else. and y'know i was expecting the same thing here. i was expecting to smile, to have a nice time on my lunch break.
that didn't happen.
what happened instead was that this game hit me with incalculable force, all the stronger for how completely unexpected it was, it's deliberately small presentation cutting deep into in ways that left me genuinely shaken and deep in thought about who i am and why i act the way that i do.
that's a hyperbolic statement. and i expect, for many people, it won't ring true. but it did for me. and articulating why requires articulating...myself, somewhat.
full disclosure, i first played this about a year ago. and i've tried to write this review multiple times before. but I just found no way of doing so without talking explicitly about why it made me feel the ways that it did, what about it that caused it to hit so hard. excessive auto-biography is a bad habit i fell into far often when i was writing more regularly on letterboxd and i have tried to avoid that here, to not treat a work's relation to me as the beginning and end of its critique. i am simply not a very interesting person, and saying "i personally related to this work" for a piece of criticism doesn't make for compelling writing by default. i don't think i've always succeeded, but it is something i have tried to aspire beyond on backloggd. i just found that impossible for one night hot springs. and i still do. and yet, i still want to talk about this game, what i think it does and has to say, and if i have to talk about myself to do so, then that is what will have to happen.
so, apologies. this is One of Those.
i am a non-binary trans person. i am also autistic, described to me then as "asperger's syndrome", and was diagnosed at a young age because I was a particularly...noticeable case of it. in addition, i was also diagnosed at a relatively young age with social anxiety disorder, then described to me as "social phobia". autism manifests in myriad different ways for myriad different people, and what is true for one person will not ring true for others. one autistic person i knew in university was one of the most socially capable people i have ever known, effortlessly charming and quick-witted in a way i am not or never have been. i struggle immensely with tone, expressions, and conversational flow, of knowing when to say the right thing, or how to say it. i speak without full confidence that my meaning will be expressed, only having hope that it will land how i intend to, without hurting anyone around me, and if i do, i hope only that i can recognise it and make amends for it immediately. whether this creates or simply feeds into my social anxiety disorder i can't say for certain, but the way others will speak in ways in ways i don't entirely understand i will respond in ways that i less comprehend and more simply Hope are the way one is Supposed To Respond certainly does not help the fact that i approach most conversations with almost everyone in the world with a certain degree of nervousness, if not outright fear, whether it's hoping to make a good impression on someone new, or hoping i don't accidentally hurt the feelings of someone i care about, there's always a reason to feel nervous about the very simple act of interacting with another human being in the world. being non-binary doesn't help much either, as in the majority of situations that take place in areas where i am not able to make my pronouns clear up front, misgendering and misrecognition isn't so much a possibility as it is a certainty.
if you've interacted with me personally at all you almost certainly think of me as oblivious or distant, speaking clumsily, awkwardly, stand-offishly, or any combination of these or any other, for which I apologize, because even reaching this level of capability requires a level of effort on my behalf that often leaves me completely exhausted from even basic interactions. none of this means i don't enjoy being with others, for me, no interaction is natural or free-flowing, it's a panicked and practiced effort to keep my head above water with immense effort.
so, often? i will flinch. i will shudder. i will apologize - for any unintended slight, for my existence as a whole. out of fear, out of resignation, out of the crawling voice in the back of my skull that tells me that no one - no one - wants to be around me, ever - i will find ways to extricate myself or excuse myself from situations, sometimes from all things altogether. faced with friction, it is easier to simply relent, to stand aside, rather than to speak up, because my voice is coarse and harsh and i cannot stand the noise it makes as it crawls out of my throat.
time and time again, i have taken the path of least resistance, so, when i played one night hot springs...i did the same. when haru suffered the routine emotionless deadnaming that is the common result of interactions in the world, i instinctively picked the options that made her flinch, shudder, to take the path of least resistance, to allow herself to be walked over rather than assert herself. as i do each time i play through a vn like this for the first time, i picked the options that struck as natural, and each and every time, it led me down paths that ranged from self-humiliating to outwardly self-destructive, to erode away at Haru's confidence because i had none, until eventually she can't take any more, and retreats into herself mid-party, until she vanishes, leaving the concern of her friends in her wake.
this is my world. this is the world i have made for myself. this closed-off, tiny thing, where i slam shut every door i have to knock on out of fear of what i might find on the other side. playing this game forced me to confront things about myself that part of me might have thought were natural, or even noble, boldly self-sacrificing myself, excusing myself from the company of others for their own good. but really, it was just cowardice, in the face of a world that is difficult, that is challenging, that hurts and where, yes, you can cause hurt in turn. but there's nothing noble about hiding yourself away in a dark corner of a distant room, afraid to even speak. one night, hot springs, despite it's incredibly warm, soft visuals and gentle music, is absolutely uncompromising in what it revealed about the way i so often choose to live my life.
it's a depiction made all the more heartbreaking by the results of resisting my natural instincts, peering into the alternate worlds in this story, and seeing for myself the words i have left unsaid, the friends left unmade, the closed-off hearts that could have been opened, but remained sealed out of fear. there are some really warm, beautifully written scenes in one night, hot springs, and it's only by seeing every path, by walking down every door, by availing yourself of the power visual novels grant you to see every possibility in this single night at the hot springs in a way you never could in real life, can you see the full shape of these people and the feelings they have for one another. something is always left unsaid, unheard.
each time i leave my house, each time i meet with friends, each time i poke my head around to my roommates, each time i log on to this website or any other, i am haru, and her choices become my choices. to risk walking barefoot through a garden of glass for what i know to lie on the other side, or to remain behind it, and make of it an insurmountable wall that grows smaller and smaller as my world contracts more and more into that darkened corner in my room. but there is a wider world out there, full of people i want to see, full of potential great memories and warm moments. not every night at the hot springs will be good. there will always be opportunities i cannot take, things left unsaid, and things left unheard. but if i flinch and retreat every time i face difficulties, every time it seems like this might be a bad night at the hot springs, then i'll never have a good one. i'll never have that night where i make a new friend, reconnect with an old one, or tell someone how i really feel about them.
the cringey, melodramatic thing i wrote at the top of this review? that's the best picture i can paint about what it feels like to live behind my eyes, of trying as best as i can to communicate fully and completely with the people i love because i want to be with them and enjoy their company more than anything else in the world, but knowing that it will always be difficult, knowing that it requires constant, agonising effort. it's not the same as feeling that, every day. i do not think writing, or video games, are true empathy machines, despite assertions to the contrary rising in both gaming journalism and academic spaces in the past couple years. i don't think video games can make you feel what it is like to be trans, or autistic, or socially anxious. neither this review, nor one night, hot springs will make you feel like what it feels like to be me.
but do they have to? i don't think they do. i think all they have to do, in the sounds they make chiming with another, in how they look matching an image etched into your heart, in the words they speak, and how they feel to play, to produce some kind of image that resonates, some kind of emotion that resounds...to reach someone, anyone, and maybe even be reached in turn.
and it isn't easy. believe me, i know.
but when it works? when you reach out a metaphorical hand, and meet another? it is so, so worth it in the end.
there is no reason to believe npckc will ever read this. but, i'll knock on that door anyway, speak up anyway, just in case my words reach theirs.
Thank you for your game!
Jet Set Radio Future
2002
Put it down for a few months and came back to realize I had left it off at the skyscraper district and lost interest incredibly hard ngl
JSRF is a bit of step forward step back sequel for me tbh, it doesn't really iterate on the first game as much as just kinda do something different with a similar idea that's better in some ways but also somehow clunkier in others.
It's been long enough since I put it down I feel like I'd need to start over to get back into the swing of it so it's going on the shelf for now. Maybe one day Sega will remaster it with a decent camera and give me the motivation to go back
JSRF is a bit of step forward step back sequel for me tbh, it doesn't really iterate on the first game as much as just kinda do something different with a similar idea that's better in some ways but also somehow clunkier in others.
It's been long enough since I put it down I feel like I'd need to start over to get back into the swing of it so it's going on the shelf for now. Maybe one day Sega will remaster it with a decent camera and give me the motivation to go back
Bomb Rush Cyberfunk
2023
I'm so happy this game exists. It isn't afraid to show it was inspired by Jet Set Radio, but I wouldn't write this game off as a soulless copycat. Almost everything about this game from the gameplay, music, and aesthetics rock. The general gameplay loop is very fun. For as simple as doing combos are with only a few buttons, learning to keep your combo up is extremely satisfying to do, and the post-game brings a large incentive to mastering it. The soundtrack is just a 10/10 with some of my favorites being Da People, Get Enuf, Next to Me, Funk Express, Big City Life, and I Wanna Kno.
As a bboy, it was awesome to see how the director's dance background was infused into the game by tying a specific dance style and playlist to each crew, doing cyphers to switch characters, and the choreography accuracy.
If I had any gripes with the game, I feel like the combat could have been fleshed out a little bit more, you barely have a frame to fully tag a cop with graffiti before they go flying, and the impact doesn't have enough oomph to it. Also, the story is pretty interesting, but it's kinda aight towards the very end. There were a couple additional gripes I had about certain elements not being in the map, but some quality of life updates fixed them for me fairly fast.
Bomb Rush Cyberfunk is a game I need everyone to play yesterday. I can't wait to see how Team Reptile follows up on it.
As a bboy, it was awesome to see how the director's dance background was infused into the game by tying a specific dance style and playlist to each crew, doing cyphers to switch characters, and the choreography accuracy.
If I had any gripes with the game, I feel like the combat could have been fleshed out a little bit more, you barely have a frame to fully tag a cop with graffiti before they go flying, and the impact doesn't have enough oomph to it. Also, the story is pretty interesting, but it's kinda aight towards the very end. There were a couple additional gripes I had about certain elements not being in the map, but some quality of life updates fixed them for me fairly fast.
Bomb Rush Cyberfunk is a game I need everyone to play yesterday. I can't wait to see how Team Reptile follows up on it.
Celeste
2018
“The way I see it, the Mountain can’t bring out anything that isn’t already in you.”
Celeste was a game that snuck up on me. I bought this game on my Switch a couple of years back at a discount. On my first attempt, I gave up. I tried it for around an hour before dropping it. At the time, I couldn’t quite figure out the mechanics of the game and I thought it was too difficult. I thought that I couldn’t beat the game and that I was not adequate to play it. That is where I messed up. Celeste tricks you into wanting to give up; the mountain is tall and scary and gets difficult the longer you climb. The difference between my first attempt and second attempt, however, is that on my second attempt, I would initially give up, but I would come back and keep pushing myself to get to the top of the mountain.
Celeste is a game that’s daunting on purpose. Madeline, the main character, challenges the mountain as a way to push and motivate herself. Madeline meets people throughout her climb to the top of Celeste Mountain. These people help Madeline look into her mental health and her identity, but nothing personifies that more than Badeline. Badeline is a manifestation of Madeline’s anxiety, depression, loneliness, and more. She breaks out of the mirror in the Celestial Resort and torments Madeline along her journey. Badeline is the embodiment of what Madeline is suffering from. Badeline breaking the mirror is an allegory of the Mountain; Madeline needs to confront her deepest fears and find her identity, even if it makes her uncomfortable, and want to run away and hide from it all. You have to look in the mirror and look into yourself to progress. There’s a reason why the Old Woman continuously warns Madeline of the power of the mountain.
Celeste is about confronting the unknown, even if you’re uncomfortable. To grow as a person, you have to push through the uncomfortable moments in life or you’ll continue to stifle yourself. Madeline keeps persevering and climbing the mountain, no matter how arduous it becomes. Madeline has a panic attack on a gondola with Theo, another character on a journey of his own. Theo helps Madeline calm down from her panic attack by picturing a feather. The feather is there to keep it in balance, to make sure to keep Madeline’s breathing in balance. When this succeeds, Madeline feels better and has a new outlook on life. Madeline wants to confront Badeline as a way to confront her mental illness and shut it out. When she begins to panic again, she knows that she can use the feather method to calm herself down. When she attempts this another time when confronting Badeline, the method is a failure and she begins to be consumed by her suffering. Healing isn’t linear; you’re going to have good days and feel like you have everything under control whereas there will be bad days where you will feel existential dread and can’t shake the pain. Madeline desperately wants to leave Badeline behind and forget about her pain so she can move on, but that is the mistake Madeline makes. To get over your pain, you have to learn to accept what you feel and feel those emotions. You have to learn to accept yourself as a person and find your identity. Accepting Badeline is Madeline learning to love and accept herself.
At first, Madeline has two dashes. You only get two attempts to get across the course. Throughout the game, you begin to get used to these mechanics. Even if it gets hard to make it across, you learn as you go that these jumps aren’t as impossible as you think. The mountain that you are climbing is going to have obstacles and hurdles along the way to test if you can make it over or not. Halfway through your climb on Celeste Mountain, there is strong winds that make it harder to dash and climb the mountain. It may seem impossible at first, but Celeste is testing you on whether or not you can push through this detriment. It's an allegory to show that although things get hard, you cannot give up no matter what. When you reach Chapter 6, Madeline accepts Badeline as a part of herself; she learns to work with the pain and suffering she has instead of continuing to push it away. As a result, Madeline goes from having two jumps to now having three jumps. Madeline has another chance to climb, another chance at life, and a renewed spirit to reach the top. Even if you feel like giving up and life weighs heavy on you, everything will be okay. Madeline personifies that very statement; she kept pushing through her struggles and learned to accept those struggles and herself along her journey. When Madeline reaches the top, she feels on top of the world and is on top of the world. She finally learned to understand herself and her inadequacies. Celeste is simultaneously an allegory for creator Maddy Thorson, who is a transgender woman. Madeline realizes that she is a transgender woman at the end of her journey to Celeste Mountain. Thorson wrote about Celeste and mentioned that she didn’t know that she nor Madeline were transgender. Thorson struggled with mental health issues herself, and Celeste serves as a reflection of herself. What’s beautiful about Celeste is that it is made in a way to be interpreted in your point of view and through your own struggles. Celeste isn’t just about Madeline accepting her transness and her mental health, but also about us, the players, to look into ourselves and learn to accept our identities and issues. The journey that we make through our healing journey are struggles that only we can understand; we all have problems that we have to face and triumph. As someone who has mental health issues, I felt understood by Celeste. Mental health is agonizing and convoluted; it can be hard to wrap my mind around my issues and at times, I just want to run away and find an escape from my issues. Even with my identity, I still feel lost about myself and don’t understand things about myself. I’m a traumatized individual who harnesses a lot of hurt and pain, and it has caused me to create a wall within myself. Celeste understands this and acknowledges that it is okay to have issues and not have a steady footing in life. It encourages you to find yourself and learn to accept yourself, even if you have flaws and don’t understand everything about yourself.
Celeste Mountain brings out what is harnessed within Madeline but also within the player itself. “This memorial dedicated to those who perished on the climb” is a powerful line that still resonates with me even after finishing this game. It validates the power of transgender people by acknowledging those who have continued to push through the transphobia and invalidation of their identity while simultaneously validating those who have struggled with mental health issues. At the peak of the mountain, it feels good to be validated and have a renewed sense of hope about life. The peak of Celeste Mountain serves as the beginning of our acceptance and healing; we still have a long way to go. We conquered one peak, but there are still other mountains to conquer. Even though that seems intimidating, we can’t turn our backs on the progress we’ve made and we have to keep pushing ourselves. One step at a time, one mountain at a time, we become closer to finding ourselves and finding peace. Celeste shows that the climb is worth it and that to never give up no matter what stands in your way.
Celeste is one of the greatest games I have ever come across, and it helped me look into myself in ways I haven’t before. Maddy Thorson’s ode to transgender identity and learning to pave a path for yourself through the obstacles you navigate is inspiring. I may not understand the obstacles of transness as I am not trans myself, but Thorson writes about her experiences and journey in accepting her transgender identity. I feel it is an important read to amplify not only her voice and experience as a transgender person but to amplify other transgender voices as well. Celeste has helped me understand myself more as a person and allowed me to look into myself more, and I thank Maddy Thorson for creating a charming, introspective game where we can craft our narratives and learn how to navigate our journeys through life.
Celeste was a game that snuck up on me. I bought this game on my Switch a couple of years back at a discount. On my first attempt, I gave up. I tried it for around an hour before dropping it. At the time, I couldn’t quite figure out the mechanics of the game and I thought it was too difficult. I thought that I couldn’t beat the game and that I was not adequate to play it. That is where I messed up. Celeste tricks you into wanting to give up; the mountain is tall and scary and gets difficult the longer you climb. The difference between my first attempt and second attempt, however, is that on my second attempt, I would initially give up, but I would come back and keep pushing myself to get to the top of the mountain.
Celeste is a game that’s daunting on purpose. Madeline, the main character, challenges the mountain as a way to push and motivate herself. Madeline meets people throughout her climb to the top of Celeste Mountain. These people help Madeline look into her mental health and her identity, but nothing personifies that more than Badeline. Badeline is a manifestation of Madeline’s anxiety, depression, loneliness, and more. She breaks out of the mirror in the Celestial Resort and torments Madeline along her journey. Badeline is the embodiment of what Madeline is suffering from. Badeline breaking the mirror is an allegory of the Mountain; Madeline needs to confront her deepest fears and find her identity, even if it makes her uncomfortable, and want to run away and hide from it all. You have to look in the mirror and look into yourself to progress. There’s a reason why the Old Woman continuously warns Madeline of the power of the mountain.
Celeste is about confronting the unknown, even if you’re uncomfortable. To grow as a person, you have to push through the uncomfortable moments in life or you’ll continue to stifle yourself. Madeline keeps persevering and climbing the mountain, no matter how arduous it becomes. Madeline has a panic attack on a gondola with Theo, another character on a journey of his own. Theo helps Madeline calm down from her panic attack by picturing a feather. The feather is there to keep it in balance, to make sure to keep Madeline’s breathing in balance. When this succeeds, Madeline feels better and has a new outlook on life. Madeline wants to confront Badeline as a way to confront her mental illness and shut it out. When she begins to panic again, she knows that she can use the feather method to calm herself down. When she attempts this another time when confronting Badeline, the method is a failure and she begins to be consumed by her suffering. Healing isn’t linear; you’re going to have good days and feel like you have everything under control whereas there will be bad days where you will feel existential dread and can’t shake the pain. Madeline desperately wants to leave Badeline behind and forget about her pain so she can move on, but that is the mistake Madeline makes. To get over your pain, you have to learn to accept what you feel and feel those emotions. You have to learn to accept yourself as a person and find your identity. Accepting Badeline is Madeline learning to love and accept herself.
At first, Madeline has two dashes. You only get two attempts to get across the course. Throughout the game, you begin to get used to these mechanics. Even if it gets hard to make it across, you learn as you go that these jumps aren’t as impossible as you think. The mountain that you are climbing is going to have obstacles and hurdles along the way to test if you can make it over or not. Halfway through your climb on Celeste Mountain, there is strong winds that make it harder to dash and climb the mountain. It may seem impossible at first, but Celeste is testing you on whether or not you can push through this detriment. It's an allegory to show that although things get hard, you cannot give up no matter what. When you reach Chapter 6, Madeline accepts Badeline as a part of herself; she learns to work with the pain and suffering she has instead of continuing to push it away. As a result, Madeline goes from having two jumps to now having three jumps. Madeline has another chance to climb, another chance at life, and a renewed spirit to reach the top. Even if you feel like giving up and life weighs heavy on you, everything will be okay. Madeline personifies that very statement; she kept pushing through her struggles and learned to accept those struggles and herself along her journey. When Madeline reaches the top, she feels on top of the world and is on top of the world. She finally learned to understand herself and her inadequacies. Celeste is simultaneously an allegory for creator Maddy Thorson, who is a transgender woman. Madeline realizes that she is a transgender woman at the end of her journey to Celeste Mountain. Thorson wrote about Celeste and mentioned that she didn’t know that she nor Madeline were transgender. Thorson struggled with mental health issues herself, and Celeste serves as a reflection of herself. What’s beautiful about Celeste is that it is made in a way to be interpreted in your point of view and through your own struggles. Celeste isn’t just about Madeline accepting her transness and her mental health, but also about us, the players, to look into ourselves and learn to accept our identities and issues. The journey that we make through our healing journey are struggles that only we can understand; we all have problems that we have to face and triumph. As someone who has mental health issues, I felt understood by Celeste. Mental health is agonizing and convoluted; it can be hard to wrap my mind around my issues and at times, I just want to run away and find an escape from my issues. Even with my identity, I still feel lost about myself and don’t understand things about myself. I’m a traumatized individual who harnesses a lot of hurt and pain, and it has caused me to create a wall within myself. Celeste understands this and acknowledges that it is okay to have issues and not have a steady footing in life. It encourages you to find yourself and learn to accept yourself, even if you have flaws and don’t understand everything about yourself.
Celeste Mountain brings out what is harnessed within Madeline but also within the player itself. “This memorial dedicated to those who perished on the climb” is a powerful line that still resonates with me even after finishing this game. It validates the power of transgender people by acknowledging those who have continued to push through the transphobia and invalidation of their identity while simultaneously validating those who have struggled with mental health issues. At the peak of the mountain, it feels good to be validated and have a renewed sense of hope about life. The peak of Celeste Mountain serves as the beginning of our acceptance and healing; we still have a long way to go. We conquered one peak, but there are still other mountains to conquer. Even though that seems intimidating, we can’t turn our backs on the progress we’ve made and we have to keep pushing ourselves. One step at a time, one mountain at a time, we become closer to finding ourselves and finding peace. Celeste shows that the climb is worth it and that to never give up no matter what stands in your way.
Celeste is one of the greatest games I have ever come across, and it helped me look into myself in ways I haven’t before. Maddy Thorson’s ode to transgender identity and learning to pave a path for yourself through the obstacles you navigate is inspiring. I may not understand the obstacles of transness as I am not trans myself, but Thorson writes about her experiences and journey in accepting her transgender identity. I feel it is an important read to amplify not only her voice and experience as a transgender person but to amplify other transgender voices as well. Celeste has helped me understand myself more as a person and allowed me to look into myself more, and I thank Maddy Thorson for creating a charming, introspective game where we can craft our narratives and learn how to navigate our journeys through life.
Incredible mod, a masterful recreation of the original Team Fortress 2 experience, yet made better. Be sure to play on the Idort's server!