Chants of Sennaar is a fascinating game that saves its most indicting themes for moments of individual discover. Rather than pompously expositing revelation, the game trusts in its puzzles - and the players dedication to unveiling the many languages of the game's world - to lay before us the consequence of language. Its central thesis, with others orbiting around it, is that language is a social construct.
While that feels underwhelming, the game's exhaustive exploration into what this could mean motivates both the aforementioned puzzles and the game's world design. It is as if the languages, each one prescribed to one of the five castes, reinforce the hierarchical linearity of the Tower of Babel world. As an example, the race of the devotees call themselves as such. However, the caste above them, the warriors, does not have a word for devotees. Instead, they call them the impure. Nothing could be more damning than linguistic superiority, entrapping a whole group of people by deeming their faith as a dross.
Additionally, the warriors' task themselves with protecting who the call the chosen ones, the caste above them. The chose ones call themselves bards, but such an appellation amplifies their fabricated worthiness. Indeed, the chosen ones seem to be busy contemplating their own beauty. Even more so, they don't even have a word for the devotees; the caste is so far below them it is rendered unimportant, non-existent.
All of this is determinable by merely playing the game - it's discovery-centered interactivity fueled by the tabula rasa of the nameless protagonist. As an outsider of unknown origin, they/you have the benefit in contextualizing the segregating stratification as you make like a chameleon and effortlessly move between castes.
And this Babel-like tower is impressive, with imposing architecture that resonates with historical prominence. It's tall, too, which may be a trivial observation, but gives it a narrative and thematic heft as you approach the climax - the importance of what you've been doing all along becomes clear at the moment you can theoretically look down on all the areas you traversed.
None of the puzzles are overly difficult, but any struggles are based on how esoteric the setup is. And it is not necessarily a bad thing, though I did find myself missing out on clues simply because the visual cues that hint at a solution were arguably too inconspicuous. No matter, the fact that you can progress through this game with a combination of deductive skills and observant intuition is one of the game's highlights. Much like how The Return of the Obra Dinn provided a system of rewarding educational guesses, Sennaar does the same those endorphin-producing moments of accomplishment form a kinship with the Lucas Pope game.
Ultimately, the game makes a great case for the ways in which we actively set boundaries around ourselves through a fear and ignorance. Language is as solid as the limestone walls the reach up towards the sky. It simulates a variation of Nietzschean thought about the proliferation of Christianity as a faith based on the oppressed while also commenting on unsustainable god-complexes of the entitled. Chants of Sennaar offers a compelling suggestion to pierce through traditional social partitioning, where languages aren't compartmentalized but fused and conflated to form a more integral experience.
While that feels underwhelming, the game's exhaustive exploration into what this could mean motivates both the aforementioned puzzles and the game's world design. It is as if the languages, each one prescribed to one of the five castes, reinforce the hierarchical linearity of the Tower of Babel world. As an example, the race of the devotees call themselves as such. However, the caste above them, the warriors, does not have a word for devotees. Instead, they call them the impure. Nothing could be more damning than linguistic superiority, entrapping a whole group of people by deeming their faith as a dross.
Additionally, the warriors' task themselves with protecting who the call the chosen ones, the caste above them. The chose ones call themselves bards, but such an appellation amplifies their fabricated worthiness. Indeed, the chosen ones seem to be busy contemplating their own beauty. Even more so, they don't even have a word for the devotees; the caste is so far below them it is rendered unimportant, non-existent.
All of this is determinable by merely playing the game - it's discovery-centered interactivity fueled by the tabula rasa of the nameless protagonist. As an outsider of unknown origin, they/you have the benefit in contextualizing the segregating stratification as you make like a chameleon and effortlessly move between castes.
And this Babel-like tower is impressive, with imposing architecture that resonates with historical prominence. It's tall, too, which may be a trivial observation, but gives it a narrative and thematic heft as you approach the climax - the importance of what you've been doing all along becomes clear at the moment you can theoretically look down on all the areas you traversed.
None of the puzzles are overly difficult, but any struggles are based on how esoteric the setup is. And it is not necessarily a bad thing, though I did find myself missing out on clues simply because the visual cues that hint at a solution were arguably too inconspicuous. No matter, the fact that you can progress through this game with a combination of deductive skills and observant intuition is one of the game's highlights. Much like how The Return of the Obra Dinn provided a system of rewarding educational guesses, Sennaar does the same those endorphin-producing moments of accomplishment form a kinship with the Lucas Pope game.
Ultimately, the game makes a great case for the ways in which we actively set boundaries around ourselves through a fear and ignorance. Language is as solid as the limestone walls the reach up towards the sky. It simulates a variation of Nietzschean thought about the proliferation of Christianity as a faith based on the oppressed while also commenting on unsustainable god-complexes of the entitled. Chants of Sennaar offers a compelling suggestion to pierce through traditional social partitioning, where languages aren't compartmentalized but fused and conflated to form a more integral experience.