This review contains spoilers
i'm still marinating my emotions. please forgive me if this is undercooked
a eulogy?
i don't mean to join the ranks of the seemingly ubiquitous black dresses fans who feel the need to evaluate the work of ada rook through the lens of that one project. but today the band's final album, laughingfish, released and i was brought back to this game once again. i said in my last review that fallow is "haunting" me no matter how much i play or write about it, and clearly that's still true.
if there's been one constant in the anything-but-consistent past 4 years of my life, it'd be the work of ada rook. her music has soundtracked 4 years of queer discovery and struggling; in particular, i favored her music with black dresses (same as pretty much everyone else on this planet, apparently). even the darkest pieces the duo made were shining beacons of hope from two incredible queer women pushing through the struggles of life and making art out of it. now, that's all gone, and my tiny emo heart is in shambles.
the hopelessness of laughingfish is ever-pervasive. i know that the album acknowledges hope, that the end of everything you ever loved is the beginning of the future. it's still the end of everything you've ever loved. and in a damn near catatonic state on the floor of my garage after i finished listening, i was reminded of fallow. fallow is 5 hours spent grieving before the end arrives. the final scene of the game sees our character, now named "harriet" (is she the same as isa? i don't know) on The Island On The Cleft: somewhere new for a new beginning. a girl you met moments prior asks her what she's going to do now, and harriet simply responds, "i don't know". i don't expect her to, really. i wouldn't either.
a new beginning punctuated by the aimlessness of a lonely and tattered heart. still, forever we push on.
edit: i don't think that hopelessness is the message of fallow or laughingfish. i was caught up in the sadness of the goodbye, which is... fitting. i have it in me to be more optimistic now, about the future n stuff, and i hope harriet does too. i think the endings of both laughingfish and fallow are brighter than i gave them credit for. idk. just didn't want to end this on a downer note.
edit 2: the album still makes my body feel harder to move when i listen to it.
a eulogy?
i don't mean to join the ranks of the seemingly ubiquitous black dresses fans who feel the need to evaluate the work of ada rook through the lens of that one project. but today the band's final album, laughingfish, released and i was brought back to this game once again. i said in my last review that fallow is "haunting" me no matter how much i play or write about it, and clearly that's still true.
if there's been one constant in the anything-but-consistent past 4 years of my life, it'd be the work of ada rook. her music has soundtracked 4 years of queer discovery and struggling; in particular, i favored her music with black dresses (same as pretty much everyone else on this planet, apparently). even the darkest pieces the duo made were shining beacons of hope from two incredible queer women pushing through the struggles of life and making art out of it. now, that's all gone, and my tiny emo heart is in shambles.
the hopelessness of laughingfish is ever-pervasive. i know that the album acknowledges hope, that the end of everything you ever loved is the beginning of the future. it's still the end of everything you've ever loved. and in a damn near catatonic state on the floor of my garage after i finished listening, i was reminded of fallow. fallow is 5 hours spent grieving before the end arrives. the final scene of the game sees our character, now named "harriet" (is she the same as isa? i don't know) on The Island On The Cleft: somewhere new for a new beginning. a girl you met moments prior asks her what she's going to do now, and harriet simply responds, "i don't know". i don't expect her to, really. i wouldn't either.
a new beginning punctuated by the aimlessness of a lonely and tattered heart. still, forever we push on.
edit: i don't think that hopelessness is the message of fallow or laughingfish. i was caught up in the sadness of the goodbye, which is... fitting. i have it in me to be more optimistic now, about the future n stuff, and i hope harriet does too. i think the endings of both laughingfish and fallow are brighter than i gave them credit for. idk. just didn't want to end this on a downer note.
edit 2: the album still makes my body feel harder to move when i listen to it.
we can talk in circles about the art that may have inspired fallow, we can waste time talking about the long lineage of story-driven rpgmaker games that led up to this behemoth; that won't stop fallow from haunting me.
it is infinitely more than another sob story or moody indie game. it is the metaphorical place where all of us who have been outcast from society reside, brought to physicality. stroll down the dusty hallways of the fallow residence and relive memories that are not yours - and yet they are ours.
when i hear the credits theme, "shame", i do not feel the grief i so often do for characters i've loved or fictional worlds i had to leave behind; i feel something watching me over my shoulder. a comforting kind of sadness that will cocoon me even as everything i loved crumbles away.
on the wall above my desk rests these words: "my sisters and i had a secret wish to die in a place that cared for us". i think i will remember them in those final moments.
it is infinitely more than another sob story or moody indie game. it is the metaphorical place where all of us who have been outcast from society reside, brought to physicality. stroll down the dusty hallways of the fallow residence and relive memories that are not yours - and yet they are ours.
when i hear the credits theme, "shame", i do not feel the grief i so often do for characters i've loved or fictional worlds i had to leave behind; i feel something watching me over my shoulder. a comforting kind of sadness that will cocoon me even as everything i loved crumbles away.
on the wall above my desk rests these words: "my sisters and i had a secret wish to die in a place that cared for us". i think i will remember them in those final moments.