A really, really interesting game that requires a bit of patience and openness to its motions, which ultimately pays off.
I was not familiarized with the works of Kenji Miyazawa and played the first two thirds of the game simply enjoying it as an experimental somewhat surreal project for the Super Famicom. Learning it is actually a love letter to the works of an influential Japanese poet and also an attempt to translate his sensibility into an interactive art form made it even more special.
Gameplay-wise, Ihatovo Monogatari (Stories of Ihatovo) is pretty simple, consisting on multiple, self-contained small chapters loosely focused on one of Miyazawa's stories each, while keeping a really charming sense of passage of time. You will be mostly likely trying to figure out how to advance the plot speaking with the right characters and giving them the correct items. It may feel a bit too simple and slow-paced to our time, but even going beyond the necessary good faith required to enjoy an experimental game from thirty years ago and its obvious limitations, I think this is a very smart, confident project on its own merits. Its sluggish, meditative pace fits the meditative nature of most good poetry. Most of all, though, it made me yearn for a game with its passion for the tiny stories of tiny, weird places but applying mechanics and lessons learned decades later, maybe in an Outer Wilds-like approach of knowledge as a verb that moves forward the greater machinery.
In any case, Ihatovo Monogatari is a must-play to anyone who is interested in weird stories from the early days of video games. It's not for everybody - thankfully!
I was not familiarized with the works of Kenji Miyazawa and played the first two thirds of the game simply enjoying it as an experimental somewhat surreal project for the Super Famicom. Learning it is actually a love letter to the works of an influential Japanese poet and also an attempt to translate his sensibility into an interactive art form made it even more special.
Gameplay-wise, Ihatovo Monogatari (Stories of Ihatovo) is pretty simple, consisting on multiple, self-contained small chapters loosely focused on one of Miyazawa's stories each, while keeping a really charming sense of passage of time. You will be mostly likely trying to figure out how to advance the plot speaking with the right characters and giving them the correct items. It may feel a bit too simple and slow-paced to our time, but even going beyond the necessary good faith required to enjoy an experimental game from thirty years ago and its obvious limitations, I think this is a very smart, confident project on its own merits. Its sluggish, meditative pace fits the meditative nature of most good poetry. Most of all, though, it made me yearn for a game with its passion for the tiny stories of tiny, weird places but applying mechanics and lessons learned decades later, maybe in an Outer Wilds-like approach of knowledge as a verb that moves forward the greater machinery.
In any case, Ihatovo Monogatari is a must-play to anyone who is interested in weird stories from the early days of video games. It's not for everybody - thankfully!
I wanted to give this game a higher score than I ended up at, but I just don’t think that it works very well as a video game. It’s definitely a beautiful experience. The calm, almost somber soundtrack, the interplay between mundane city life and fantastical little fables, the surprisingly dark places that the stories go, all come together into something unlike any other SNES/SFC game I’ve played.
The problem is that the player’s involvement in this world and these stories is minimal. This makes sense considering they’re adaptations of Kenji Hayazawa’s actual stories, but the result is that the game often struggles to find something to actually give the player to do. It gave me the same feeling that I got while playing through some of the less interesting Disney worlds in Kingdom Hearts games, the ones where Sora and co. just watch a Disney movie and occasionally do something very tangentially related to the plot.
I don’t really know what could have been done to alleviate this problem. It really just kind of feels like a video game isn’t a good medium for experiencing these stories. All that being said, I still enjoyed my time with the game and I’m glad to have been introduced to Miyazawa’s works. I’ve picked up a collection of his stories to read, and I can’t wait to dig into them.
The problem is that the player’s involvement in this world and these stories is minimal. This makes sense considering they’re adaptations of Kenji Hayazawa’s actual stories, but the result is that the game often struggles to find something to actually give the player to do. It gave me the same feeling that I got while playing through some of the less interesting Disney worlds in Kingdom Hearts games, the ones where Sora and co. just watch a Disney movie and occasionally do something very tangentially related to the plot.
I don’t really know what could have been done to alleviate this problem. It really just kind of feels like a video game isn’t a good medium for experiencing these stories. All that being said, I still enjoyed my time with the game and I’m glad to have been introduced to Miyazawa’s works. I’ve picked up a collection of his stories to read, and I can’t wait to dig into them.
beauty
one of the few games with a class consciousness
one of the few games with a class consciousness
Even if a lot of the morals are pretty obvious within these several fables (basically don’t lie) there’s still something about how it’s all presented. I never knew anything about Miyazawa until having played this, but it’s pretty clear that his style has had a huge impact on Japanese culture. I particularly think of Studio Ghibli but that’s probably just the most famous example.
The stories are mostly pretty simple but they still might make you ponder for other reasons. For example, the story where the rabbit lies about his accomplishments, as maybe we shouldn’t expect some other insecure brute might kill us over it? I mean lying is bad, but shouldn’t we also consider why people will kill over some things that are so frivolous? The story ends up being a bit deeper than I think it intends for that reason. I guess you can never know other peoples’ limits.
Also elephants trample the house of a rich man but the servants are just collateral? It never even mentions them. Also likely unintentional.
Overall I highly recommend it but it certainly isn’t perfect and not even so much a game as something to be experienced. I stop to think if this would have been better represented as a movie or TV show, but no I think the interactivity of the medium of video games feels more intentional. There’s something about exploring an entire town and talking to everyone that immerses you more than simply riding third person behind someone else experiencing these stories. I might say this a lot about art, but it really is something that can be hard to explain.
The stories are mostly pretty simple but they still might make you ponder for other reasons. For example, the story where the rabbit lies about his accomplishments, as maybe we shouldn’t expect some other insecure brute might kill us over it? I mean lying is bad, but shouldn’t we also consider why people will kill over some things that are so frivolous? The story ends up being a bit deeper than I think it intends for that reason. I guess you can never know other peoples’ limits.
Also elephants trample the house of a rich man but the servants are just collateral? It never even mentions them. Also likely unintentional.
Overall I highly recommend it but it certainly isn’t perfect and not even so much a game as something to be experienced. I stop to think if this would have been better represented as a movie or TV show, but no I think the interactivity of the medium of video games feels more intentional. There’s something about exploring an entire town and talking to everyone that immerses you more than simply riding third person behind someone else experiencing these stories. I might say this a lot about art, but it really is something that can be hard to explain.
Beautiful and methodical pseudo-fanfiction about the works of Kenji Miyazawa and really more about his legacy in culture. There's a big element of this game absolutely not having the same takeaway about Miyazawa's works, especially in the way this game thinks of the Galactic Railroad, but it is making delicate and future-looking moves with the adventure game formula that grip the RPG Maker community to this day that make it real easy to not get so hung up on that. Ihatovo Monogatari imposes a quest to chase down a fleeting mythical figure against the daily mundanity of the downtrodden workers, farmers, peasants, and youth. While you float through fantastical moments, life moves on: the young family moves south for the winter, the scorned worker is chased out of town suddenly, the boy you helped out last week died of a fever off screen. The things you chase in life can only amount to the character of your actions that get you there. Live wisely, fiercely, and kindly to struggle along side those who surround you.
On some shitty fundamental level, I probably believe that in order for something to be interesting as a "game" it requires a form of choice. I don't care about whether they have fail states, or whether your interaction with the world is limited--I just need that interaction to be driven by my curiosity, my skill, whatever it may be. Those are choices that I find engaging.
Playing Ihatovo Monogatari really helped put that into perspective for me. I've struggled with, and continue to struggle with, visual novels--not in the sense that I "don't think they're games" because who cares about that and hopefully most people have grown out of that level of bizarre gate-keeping, but in the sense that my interaction with many of them is pretty strictly driven by whether I feel compelled to read more text--occasionally with making choices so I can read how that text branches. When well-written I'm sure the genre is great, but they don't particularly excite me because it just makes me feel guilty about not reading books or watching films instead. They may have accompanying visuals and sounds that resonate and enhance, but for me they don't really have what makes games special.
Games like Ihatovo Monogatari are different because, as inconsequential as it may seem on the surface, having a physical avatar exploring a space to largely the same mechanical ends as a visual novel makes all the difference in the world to me. The game wouldn't be special without its pleasant world-building, characters and story, but those things are allowed to sing because I'm truly inhabiting the world as I explore it.
There are specific triggers needed to proceed--and that's where most of my problems with the game showed up, namely in the snow village chapter--but they're easier to forgive when your stumbling gives you the opportunity to soak in scenes; to see if that dog you passed earlier has something to say; to check in on the woman who sings outside her home; to stop by the theater to see if it's playing something new, or anything at all; to experience a new work from the local poet; and so much more. The synopsis for this game mentions "the opportunity to play the role of a temporary school teacher"--something I apparently missed out on, which is okay. [Or it's referring to a largely off-screen role in one of the chapters, perhaps.] As simple as the verbs are that you're equipped with in dealing with this small town and its outskirts, they feel more powerful because they were perfect enough for me to express my own engagement.
And it's a world that earns that engagement. The story--an elaborate and lovely tribute to real-life novelist and poet Kenji Miyazawa--is filled with bittersweet parables about the nature of humanity, communication and place. The vast majority of chapters are standalone snippets where the [at least I'm pretty sure] unnamed protagonist, motivated by his search for seven of Miyazawa's journals, stumbles into resolving and witnessing conflicts in the region. It's all accompanied by charming art, including beautiful cutscenes that tend to conclude chapters. [Props to the English fan translation as well; I don't know if it's a fantastic localization, but I do know it communicated well enough for me to get a lot out of it.]
The aforementioned triggers are the only kicker, and unfortunately there were times I found them to be frustrating enough to hurt what really works here. In those moments the expectation the game sets for you to walk back and forth between these triggers doesn't feel like an opportunity but instead like an inorganic roadblock. The vast majority of this confusion can be avoided since the town provides, depending on how you wish to look at it, two to four reliable "hint" hubs that can nudge you in the right direction. But sometimes even knowing the key players in a developing story, even with the assistance of these hubs, isn't enough, leading to wandering around and hoping you talk to the right character that reveals, oh, they just had this important item stowed away and sure you can have it, or even actions as simple as leaving the area.
So the awkward remnants of games past are here, but I still couldn't be happier about getting around to it, and it makes me feel incredibly grateful to fan communities that devote their time towards making these sorts of experiences more accessible. It seems fairly celebrated here on Backloggd which is great, but it's still very much an unsung moment from this period in gaming and I'm thrilled to have experienced it myself.
Playing Ihatovo Monogatari really helped put that into perspective for me. I've struggled with, and continue to struggle with, visual novels--not in the sense that I "don't think they're games" because who cares about that and hopefully most people have grown out of that level of bizarre gate-keeping, but in the sense that my interaction with many of them is pretty strictly driven by whether I feel compelled to read more text--occasionally with making choices so I can read how that text branches. When well-written I'm sure the genre is great, but they don't particularly excite me because it just makes me feel guilty about not reading books or watching films instead. They may have accompanying visuals and sounds that resonate and enhance, but for me they don't really have what makes games special.
Games like Ihatovo Monogatari are different because, as inconsequential as it may seem on the surface, having a physical avatar exploring a space to largely the same mechanical ends as a visual novel makes all the difference in the world to me. The game wouldn't be special without its pleasant world-building, characters and story, but those things are allowed to sing because I'm truly inhabiting the world as I explore it.
There are specific triggers needed to proceed--and that's where most of my problems with the game showed up, namely in the snow village chapter--but they're easier to forgive when your stumbling gives you the opportunity to soak in scenes; to see if that dog you passed earlier has something to say; to check in on the woman who sings outside her home; to stop by the theater to see if it's playing something new, or anything at all; to experience a new work from the local poet; and so much more. The synopsis for this game mentions "the opportunity to play the role of a temporary school teacher"--something I apparently missed out on, which is okay. [Or it's referring to a largely off-screen role in one of the chapters, perhaps.] As simple as the verbs are that you're equipped with in dealing with this small town and its outskirts, they feel more powerful because they were perfect enough for me to express my own engagement.
And it's a world that earns that engagement. The story--an elaborate and lovely tribute to real-life novelist and poet Kenji Miyazawa--is filled with bittersweet parables about the nature of humanity, communication and place. The vast majority of chapters are standalone snippets where the [at least I'm pretty sure] unnamed protagonist, motivated by his search for seven of Miyazawa's journals, stumbles into resolving and witnessing conflicts in the region. It's all accompanied by charming art, including beautiful cutscenes that tend to conclude chapters. [Props to the English fan translation as well; I don't know if it's a fantastic localization, but I do know it communicated well enough for me to get a lot out of it.]
The aforementioned triggers are the only kicker, and unfortunately there were times I found them to be frustrating enough to hurt what really works here. In those moments the expectation the game sets for you to walk back and forth between these triggers doesn't feel like an opportunity but instead like an inorganic roadblock. The vast majority of this confusion can be avoided since the town provides, depending on how you wish to look at it, two to four reliable "hint" hubs that can nudge you in the right direction. But sometimes even knowing the key players in a developing story, even with the assistance of these hubs, isn't enough, leading to wandering around and hoping you talk to the right character that reveals, oh, they just had this important item stowed away and sure you can have it, or even actions as simple as leaving the area.
So the awkward remnants of games past are here, but I still couldn't be happier about getting around to it, and it makes me feel incredibly grateful to fan communities that devote their time towards making these sorts of experiences more accessible. It seems fairly celebrated here on Backloggd which is great, but it's still very much an unsung moment from this period in gaming and I'm thrilled to have experienced it myself.
This review contains spoilers
This is basically a walking sim for the Super Famicom, but I love the calm atmosphere and the overall ~vibes~ of the game. I was a little annoyed at some parts (the game doesn’t make it super obvious when you need to talk to someone more than one time in a row), but it wasn’t enough to dissuade me from finishing the game. I loved the end of the story where the main character follows Miyazawa on the Galactic Railroad. I actually ended up buying a collection of short stories by Miyazawa after completing the game as well.
An absolutely serene collection of vignettes that consistently manages to feel poignant even if the lessons at play aren't always incredibly profound. One could criticize the gameplay if so inclined but that would really be missing the purpose of this experience.
Its literary, un-gamey take on the 16-bit RPG format precedes so many RPGMaker adventure games of the 90s and beyond. Not super my thing, but mandatory for anyone who's into that scene and style. Quietly ambitious.
plays a little archaically, but has an amazing colletion of stories that come together to form a beautiful world. I would recommend taking your time with this one, maybe limit yourself to 1-2 chapters a day to give each chapter some time to sit with you.
Like with Metal Slader Glory, I'm a sucker for a good story. Whether it be in a tightly picked adventure with thrills and excitement like Yakuza 2, or a slow, contemplative story like The House of Fata Morgana, a good story can make any game brilliant. And today, I want to tell you a tale of a little game called The Stories of Ihatovo.
Ihatovo Monogatari as it's known in Japan, is a Super Famicom game released solely there, never seeing an international release. It's not hard to see why, given that it's solely an adventure game with no battles or many puzzles to solve. This isn't your Gabriel Knights or Shadowgates of old, this is a game that has you walk from place to place and discover the strange world around you and its inhabitants.
The game is focused on the works of Kenji Miyazawa, a poet and children's story writer from the early 20th century. Each chapter is focused on his works, and the player character has to find the journals based on Kenji's works and relive the stories they're based on. One such story has you talking to animals and seeing the tale of Hommoi and the Shellfire, or another about Ozbel and the Elephants.
There's no way to fail in this game, the only obstacle is not knowing what to do next, but the game encourages you to walk around and talk to everyone, and you'll get an understanding of what to do, where to go, and the world around you. The town of Ihatovo is very quirky, filled with interesting characters and things to see and do, so you're never truly lost, as most chapters are contained to one area, but some in the town do require some deduction to figure out what to do. If you're familiar with Kenji's fables, then you'll know what to do exactly, but I imagine most aren't so some exploration is needed.
I didn't expect a lot going into this game, except that it was about fables from a Japanese author that have been held in high regard, much like Aesop's fables have been regarded in the West. What I wasn't expecting was a truly thought-provoking experience full of strange, colourful characters and their many weird, wonderful stories.
As said, you don't really affect the world around you much, just see all the little adventures of the world around you, but it's what you experience that makes this game simply wonderful. Also the ending hit me like a ton of bricks, especially coming off a watch of the animated Night on the Galactic Railroad movie, which definitely helped further understanding of the ending.
But besides those small gripes, I hold this game in such high regard. It's truly a marvelous story filled with great characters and a serene, well realised world filled with stories that you'll want to discover. Also the soundtrack is one of the finest in gaming.
You'll be doing the world a favour by playing this truly wonderful experience.
Ihatovo Monogatari as it's known in Japan, is a Super Famicom game released solely there, never seeing an international release. It's not hard to see why, given that it's solely an adventure game with no battles or many puzzles to solve. This isn't your Gabriel Knights or Shadowgates of old, this is a game that has you walk from place to place and discover the strange world around you and its inhabitants.
The game is focused on the works of Kenji Miyazawa, a poet and children's story writer from the early 20th century. Each chapter is focused on his works, and the player character has to find the journals based on Kenji's works and relive the stories they're based on. One such story has you talking to animals and seeing the tale of Hommoi and the Shellfire, or another about Ozbel and the Elephants.
There's no way to fail in this game, the only obstacle is not knowing what to do next, but the game encourages you to walk around and talk to everyone, and you'll get an understanding of what to do, where to go, and the world around you. The town of Ihatovo is very quirky, filled with interesting characters and things to see and do, so you're never truly lost, as most chapters are contained to one area, but some in the town do require some deduction to figure out what to do. If you're familiar with Kenji's fables, then you'll know what to do exactly, but I imagine most aren't so some exploration is needed.
I didn't expect a lot going into this game, except that it was about fables from a Japanese author that have been held in high regard, much like Aesop's fables have been regarded in the West. What I wasn't expecting was a truly thought-provoking experience full of strange, colourful characters and their many weird, wonderful stories.
As said, you don't really affect the world around you much, just see all the little adventures of the world around you, but it's what you experience that makes this game simply wonderful. Also the ending hit me like a ton of bricks, especially coming off a watch of the animated Night on the Galactic Railroad movie, which definitely helped further understanding of the ending.
But besides those small gripes, I hold this game in such high regard. It's truly a marvelous story filled with great characters and a serene, well realised world filled with stories that you'll want to discover. Also the soundtrack is one of the finest in gaming.
You'll be doing the world a favour by playing this truly wonderful experience.