'Just us, standing here.'
Some games have a dramatically intimate quality that makes them difficult to assess. Dissecting a game that dozens of people have worked on doesn't conjure up the same unpleasant feeling of voyeurism as a standalone title that mirrors a single person's emotions and life, in all its layers of complexity. Woodaba is one of the well-known figures on this site and their critical work opened up a window into their thinking. A creative work summons new perspectives, but can be more hermetic. It is therefore appropriate to preface this short review by pointing out that my position does not allow me, unlike other reviewers, to feel intimate empathy for the two characters; I have real sympathy for them – and for all those who have had to go through the ordeal that school represents – but I was lucky enough and had the requisite social conditions not to experience, in the flesh, the anguish of education and to excel to the point where I have fond memories of it.
The player is an unremarkable adult who finds themselves in a Catholic school, with alcohol dulling their senses. They meet a ghostly-looking girl who tells them to help her finish a maths assignment so that she can find peace and finally move on. The title is a retrospective of the high school years and their anxieties for many teenagers. The spectre of guilt is always present, be it towards the educational institution, family or friends, but the figure of Jesus Christ, martyr for humanity, forms the essence of the discomfort. Is he, who suffered for the sins of mankind, not disappointed to see those who were made in his image stumble over simple mathematical problems?
To emphasise this persistence of Catholic thought, the game is interspersed with white text on a black background panels, framing the action of Holy Ghost Story. The opening words are taken from Canto I of Dante's Purgatorio (1316), while the ending concludes with the final lines of Canto XXXIII, echoing Beatrice's admonitions and Dante's trials to purify himself in order to reach Paradise. It is unclear how much of the intertextuality is deliberate. If Siobhan is similar to Beatrice in her faith, and the figure of the giant – mentioned in Canto XXXII – haunts Holy Ghost Story, the cruel irreverence of the protagonist seems out of place and rather clumsy, given the brevity of the title, which leaves little room for character development. On the other hand, the title manages to make the protagonist a rather unpleasant character, despite their more or less affable appearances, and it seems to me that Woodaba's gambit is successful here. Erato_Heti mentioned the weakness of the final choice: I would argue that it makes sense in the characterisation of the protagonist, but that its weight is clearly not emphasised enough in the subsequent dialogues. In any case, the references to Dante seem like preliminary invocation – paradoxically quite similar to the way the author invokes the Muses during his ascent, but from a classicist perspective, supported by the presence of the ancient authors – but feel ill-assigned, as the other elements do not really support this intertextuality.
The visual and audio presentation is fluctuating. Erato_Heti mentioned the effectiveness of the opening and closing scenes: I concur. They present a poetic abstraction that plays well with traditional visual novel codes, to showcase their motif, without over-emphasising it. The ending scene, full of unspoken words, works with a quality that the game has struggled to achieve before. In fact, there seems to be too strong a dichotomy between the dialogue and the musical atmosphere, breaking the naturalness of the discussion. Kevin MacLeod's original tracks were well chosen, with the piano oscillating between dissonant and pleasant arpegios, thus underlining the reassuring discomfort of this Catholic school. However, the classical music choices seem more faulty and off-key. While Satie's Gymnopédie No. 1 (1888) is still adequate, Pachelbel's Canon in D (ca. 1680) completely extinguishes the dialogue by creating an happy atmosphere contrary to that of the text. Is this a deliberate choice of contrast? I find it difficult to understand the logic, if so.
Woodaba pointed out that the writing was completed well before the design on Ren'Py and that the choice of graphic assets and music was done in a rather artificial way, to suit the text as best as possible instead of binding them elegantly. This can be strongly felt in the school setting, which draws on a certain idea of Japanese school life, not very appropriate for the game's discourse, set in Ireland with the Catholic setting. Similarly, it is quite odd that the writing style changes throughout the game. The prologue indulges in concrete, albeit classic, poetic flourishes that tend to disappear completely until the epilogue. Admittedly, these gaps in homogeneity are typical of the genre and they don't pose a major problem in the game experience; but there always seems to be something missing – stylistically, thematically or symbolically –, especially with the Dante quotations. They never manage to follow through with their idea, beyond the simple idea of Purgatory.
Holy Ghost Story provides few answers, as do our daily introspections. Nevertheless, it is certain that society is shackled by systems that have little regard for the well-being of individuals and neglect them, with varying degrees of disdain. The title never embarks on great lyrical and idealistic discourses: it retains a prosaic edge that is quite touching, with its characters ultimately unable to learn from this strange night. But how can one blame them? They found, at least, some closure. The production of the game seems to follow this same direction. There's an excessively humble aspect to the title's design, from the graphic choices to the way the story is told – and written, I agree with Erato_Heti's remark about the spelling mistakes, excessively prevalent at the beginning of the game – but also in the references, be it to The Divine Comedy or the Neon Genesis Evangelion-esque titlecards. This gives the impression of a somewhat innocent 'love letter' which, if not formally perfect, is overflowing with sincerity.
A more personal note to Woodaba: Holy Ghost Story strikes me as a very convincing debut game. I very much appreciate the willingness to step out of one's comfort zone to explore other themes and I respect the choice to face the critics. I didn't think I would be playing the game, but deep down I was curious to see the product of a brilliant mind – not all of whose opinions I share, but that's natural. You have, I think, identified the pitfalls of the title through your retrospective and this is a solid foundation for the future of your creative adventures. It seems to me that the idea of reinterpreting the visual novel's conventions is a solid concept, especially when coupled with the themes you explore, but the shortcomings in the technical execution make the ensemble feel a bit disjointed, and it struggles to acquire a real subversive force. Anyway, I congratulate you for this first project and wish you a lot of success for your next projects!
Some games have a dramatically intimate quality that makes them difficult to assess. Dissecting a game that dozens of people have worked on doesn't conjure up the same unpleasant feeling of voyeurism as a standalone title that mirrors a single person's emotions and life, in all its layers of complexity. Woodaba is one of the well-known figures on this site and their critical work opened up a window into their thinking. A creative work summons new perspectives, but can be more hermetic. It is therefore appropriate to preface this short review by pointing out that my position does not allow me, unlike other reviewers, to feel intimate empathy for the two characters; I have real sympathy for them – and for all those who have had to go through the ordeal that school represents – but I was lucky enough and had the requisite social conditions not to experience, in the flesh, the anguish of education and to excel to the point where I have fond memories of it.
The player is an unremarkable adult who finds themselves in a Catholic school, with alcohol dulling their senses. They meet a ghostly-looking girl who tells them to help her finish a maths assignment so that she can find peace and finally move on. The title is a retrospective of the high school years and their anxieties for many teenagers. The spectre of guilt is always present, be it towards the educational institution, family or friends, but the figure of Jesus Christ, martyr for humanity, forms the essence of the discomfort. Is he, who suffered for the sins of mankind, not disappointed to see those who were made in his image stumble over simple mathematical problems?
To emphasise this persistence of Catholic thought, the game is interspersed with white text on a black background panels, framing the action of Holy Ghost Story. The opening words are taken from Canto I of Dante's Purgatorio (1316), while the ending concludes with the final lines of Canto XXXIII, echoing Beatrice's admonitions and Dante's trials to purify himself in order to reach Paradise. It is unclear how much of the intertextuality is deliberate. If Siobhan is similar to Beatrice in her faith, and the figure of the giant – mentioned in Canto XXXII – haunts Holy Ghost Story, the cruel irreverence of the protagonist seems out of place and rather clumsy, given the brevity of the title, which leaves little room for character development. On the other hand, the title manages to make the protagonist a rather unpleasant character, despite their more or less affable appearances, and it seems to me that Woodaba's gambit is successful here. Erato_Heti mentioned the weakness of the final choice: I would argue that it makes sense in the characterisation of the protagonist, but that its weight is clearly not emphasised enough in the subsequent dialogues. In any case, the references to Dante seem like preliminary invocation – paradoxically quite similar to the way the author invokes the Muses during his ascent, but from a classicist perspective, supported by the presence of the ancient authors – but feel ill-assigned, as the other elements do not really support this intertextuality.
The visual and audio presentation is fluctuating. Erato_Heti mentioned the effectiveness of the opening and closing scenes: I concur. They present a poetic abstraction that plays well with traditional visual novel codes, to showcase their motif, without over-emphasising it. The ending scene, full of unspoken words, works with a quality that the game has struggled to achieve before. In fact, there seems to be too strong a dichotomy between the dialogue and the musical atmosphere, breaking the naturalness of the discussion. Kevin MacLeod's original tracks were well chosen, with the piano oscillating between dissonant and pleasant arpegios, thus underlining the reassuring discomfort of this Catholic school. However, the classical music choices seem more faulty and off-key. While Satie's Gymnopédie No. 1 (1888) is still adequate, Pachelbel's Canon in D (ca. 1680) completely extinguishes the dialogue by creating an happy atmosphere contrary to that of the text. Is this a deliberate choice of contrast? I find it difficult to understand the logic, if so.
Woodaba pointed out that the writing was completed well before the design on Ren'Py and that the choice of graphic assets and music was done in a rather artificial way, to suit the text as best as possible instead of binding them elegantly. This can be strongly felt in the school setting, which draws on a certain idea of Japanese school life, not very appropriate for the game's discourse, set in Ireland with the Catholic setting. Similarly, it is quite odd that the writing style changes throughout the game. The prologue indulges in concrete, albeit classic, poetic flourishes that tend to disappear completely until the epilogue. Admittedly, these gaps in homogeneity are typical of the genre and they don't pose a major problem in the game experience; but there always seems to be something missing – stylistically, thematically or symbolically –, especially with the Dante quotations. They never manage to follow through with their idea, beyond the simple idea of Purgatory.
Holy Ghost Story provides few answers, as do our daily introspections. Nevertheless, it is certain that society is shackled by systems that have little regard for the well-being of individuals and neglect them, with varying degrees of disdain. The title never embarks on great lyrical and idealistic discourses: it retains a prosaic edge that is quite touching, with its characters ultimately unable to learn from this strange night. But how can one blame them? They found, at least, some closure. The production of the game seems to follow this same direction. There's an excessively humble aspect to the title's design, from the graphic choices to the way the story is told – and written, I agree with Erato_Heti's remark about the spelling mistakes, excessively prevalent at the beginning of the game – but also in the references, be it to The Divine Comedy or the Neon Genesis Evangelion-esque titlecards. This gives the impression of a somewhat innocent 'love letter' which, if not formally perfect, is overflowing with sincerity.
A more personal note to Woodaba: Holy Ghost Story strikes me as a very convincing debut game. I very much appreciate the willingness to step out of one's comfort zone to explore other themes and I respect the choice to face the critics. I didn't think I would be playing the game, but deep down I was curious to see the product of a brilliant mind – not all of whose opinions I share, but that's natural. You have, I think, identified the pitfalls of the title through your retrospective and this is a solid foundation for the future of your creative adventures. It seems to me that the idea of reinterpreting the visual novel's conventions is a solid concept, especially when coupled with the themes you explore, but the shortcomings in the technical execution make the ensemble feel a bit disjointed, and it struggles to acquire a real subversive force. Anyway, I congratulate you for this first project and wish you a lot of success for your next projects!
4 Comments
Completely missed the Divine Comedy reference's despite reading it myself
also
**Cadensia
sorry for the name mispelling! i really wish comment edits were a thing :<
**Cadensia
sorry for the name mispelling! i really wish comment edits were a thing :<
Thank you a lot for the very kind words!
Regarding the ending choice, I also naturally took Siobhan's side, before reloading the save to see the consequences of the other choice. Unfortunately, it has rather little impact and I find the cruelty of the protagonist just gratuitous: they try to justify it with her flashback, but as Woodaba pointed out, this was the sequence that received the least care in the rewriting.
As for the rest of your concerns, I would say that my rating, for what it's worth, is justified by the good ideas that punctuate the game and the technical flaws, which prevent it from living up to its potential. The concept is appealing and I can see what it could have been, in another world, but the dichotomy between the visual novel medium and the story is too strong, in my opinion. Of course, it's supported by the fact that the initial situation is a rehash of a classic Japanese anime trope: the idea of meshing that with an Irish setting and petrifying Western cultural references into it is very exciting. Unfortunately, it doesn't sink in very well. Similarly, the game manages to get its message across and is touching, especially in its final segment, despite a writing style that may be a little too flimsy.
You write that 'fan fiction isn't usually considered in terms of how it effects a larger cultural impact because, accurately, there isn't one'. I think this is a fundamental mistake. Recent work in textual analysis seeks to explore this very issue. In particular, I think we need to look at it through the lens of a 'mythology' (Roland Barthes, Mythologies, 1957). Every work of art that engages with an already known motif contributes to a cultural continuum. The ideas that Woodaba develop are not new – Sally Rooney's Normal People (2018) comes to mind, for example – but the originality of the form allows them to stand out and become an intriguing artwork. In the case of fanfiction, it also transforms the reception of a pre-existing work – its mythology – so that some can be described as excellent and others as particularly bad. These are obviously issues of aesthetic philosophy that have no definite answers: for the rest, my position is mainly to evaluate the quality of the message and to judge the 'beauty'. It is in some way a means of assessing whether something is good or bad – or interesting versus pointless or toxic, if you like.
Regarding the ending choice, I also naturally took Siobhan's side, before reloading the save to see the consequences of the other choice. Unfortunately, it has rather little impact and I find the cruelty of the protagonist just gratuitous: they try to justify it with her flashback, but as Woodaba pointed out, this was the sequence that received the least care in the rewriting.
As for the rest of your concerns, I would say that my rating, for what it's worth, is justified by the good ideas that punctuate the game and the technical flaws, which prevent it from living up to its potential. The concept is appealing and I can see what it could have been, in another world, but the dichotomy between the visual novel medium and the story is too strong, in my opinion. Of course, it's supported by the fact that the initial situation is a rehash of a classic Japanese anime trope: the idea of meshing that with an Irish setting and petrifying Western cultural references into it is very exciting. Unfortunately, it doesn't sink in very well. Similarly, the game manages to get its message across and is touching, especially in its final segment, despite a writing style that may be a little too flimsy.
You write that 'fan fiction isn't usually considered in terms of how it effects a larger cultural impact because, accurately, there isn't one'. I think this is a fundamental mistake. Recent work in textual analysis seeks to explore this very issue. In particular, I think we need to look at it through the lens of a 'mythology' (Roland Barthes, Mythologies, 1957). Every work of art that engages with an already known motif contributes to a cultural continuum. The ideas that Woodaba develop are not new – Sally Rooney's Normal People (2018) comes to mind, for example – but the originality of the form allows them to stand out and become an intriguing artwork. In the case of fanfiction, it also transforms the reception of a pre-existing work – its mythology – so that some can be described as excellent and others as particularly bad. These are obviously issues of aesthetic philosophy that have no definite answers: for the rest, my position is mainly to evaluate the quality of the message and to judge the 'beauty'. It is in some way a means of assessing whether something is good or bad – or interesting versus pointless or toxic, if you like.
Erato_Heti
1 year ago
I actually thank you for fleshing out my asides about the choices and bookended scenes, I think that's accurate to. I think my sensibility on the final choice was more because as is natural I cared way more about Siohban than some unnamed jerk. I've been that jerk before though and so distancing from the reality that its just as much about the rude player protagonist as it is Siohban is misplaced.
I know this is meant for Woodaba and not me but particularly the idea that it "struggles to acquire a real subversive force." is interesting when considering the larger context of such specificity. If the worst a game like this can do is not reach to the subversive aims it tries out for, then that's fine. How does it even get worse though than that? This is not to say that I think the game should be scored lower, as scores don't even really matter anyway to critical response. One of the prevailing fears I've been wrestling with at the moment is that if somebody notable here made a work that failed on achieving every aim that it set out, is it merely not good or actively bad? The idea that somebody here that hasn't yet could make actively bad art haunts me, because the most respectful gesture would be to, what, turn our heads and pretend we don't see it? On the other hand maybe people's assessment in general of works on this level are too harsh, that 'bad' art can't really exist on this level is a very real possibility. For example nobody harps on the writing in fan fiction as more than a joke, fan fiction isn't usually considered in terms of how it effects a larger cultural impact because, accurately, there isn't one. This isn't meant to problematize a score, I guess I bring this up because this kind of consideration is an attempt to prepare for the worst. Not just as a loser critic but as a possible author myself one day, if the worst I do is not hitting the mark I set out, then surely I can sooth myself over by saying that not getting the effect I wanted is not grounds for loathing and 'badness' in self assessment (maybe in the case that woodaba's on view on their work becomes more pessimistic over time then this is might be some form of consolation as to not throw the whole thing into the riverstyx). While I would usually contain such anxieties to a private discord channel as unfinished infohazards, I feel like there's merit in at least bringing it up publicly, you don't have to meet that charge with a response or anything though.
Fantastic work as all Candesia, you have an excellent way with words (☆｀• ω •´)ｂ