Tag: family

What Remains of Edith Finch – Falling From The Family Tree:

For those of you who have been with MindGames since the beginning, you might remember that shortly after starting the site, I wrote an article for CheckPoint about one of my favorite games of all time – What Remains Of Edith Finch. Whilst clearing out some space on my hard drive, I came across the draft copy of that article and decided, you know what, I’m going to put it up here (with some additions) for you all to enjoy. It’s a game that’s worth revisiting with masterful storytelling and the strongest depiction of the consuming nature of some mental health conditions that I’ve seen in the gaming scene. Plus, it’s on GamePass so… free emotional experiences for you to try?

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Throughout the history of humans, the concept of family has always been the central part of our lives. From autobiographies to twitter threads, we like to share tales from our lives with those we care about, be it close friends and family or just the internet in general. Video games take this concept and run with it, building extravagant worlds and telling fantastical stories that boggle the mind. A lot of these stories have deeper meanings beneath the surface that you don’t always see, but there is almost always a sense of family in them, be it your blood relations or your crew members. It is my belief, that games that take a step back and think about the nature of human relationships are ones that will leave their mark on our hearts.

One such game is What Remains of Edith Finch. Released to the major systems in 2017, this adventure game received high praise from critics, players and reviewers alike who all praised its storytelling, presentation and commonly use it as an example to prove that video games are an art form. As a gamer who has a fondness for story-driven games, I was immediately intrigued and decided to take a weekend to just sit and immerse myself in the game. By the end of the game, I was sobbing at this masterpiece of an experience.

To give you some context, the game follows the character Edith Finch who has returned to her old family home after the death of her mother. Right away, many players can relate to how Edith feels – how it feels wrong to be there without her mother, how everything is familiar yet strange. When I lost my grandfather, we went to his flat to collect some mementoes to remember him by. If you read my Unpacking article, you’d know a bit more about what I took from that place and the memories that I associate with them. Yet, when walked through those doors and it was just… off. Everything seemed too quiet without him. I noticed tiny details that were wrong in my memories of him such as the plants not being watered and the tea bags being left in the cup for too long. It was his place, yet not. Much like Edith’s family home.

As you explore the uniquely constructed Finch home, you go from room to room piecing together Edith’s family tree. Various flashbacks and playable sequences have you experiencing the passing of each of her family members, from flying off the edge of a cliff to being poisoned by holly berries. Each tale gives you an insight into what person was like, from their stubbornness to their struggle with mental health. Although this is a game about loss, how Edith speaks of her family is truly uplifting. Each one of them is so unique and had such a profound impact on her upbringing, you can feel the pure love in her voice as she talks about them.

Now, I could dedicate an article to each and every one of Edith’s family members and their stories. From the crushing impact of losing little Gregory on his parent’s marriage, to the survivor’s guilt and traumatic memories of his sister Barbara’s murder that drove Walter to live underground for decades; there is so much to unpack here. All these deaths lead people, including some of the family members, to believe that the Finch family is cursed to perish in unfortunate circumstances. To grow up, surrounded by death and the specters of those you love, has ripple effects on the environment around the young ones, like Edith and especially, Edith’s mother Dawn.

Who I want to talk about, however, is Lewis, one of Edith’s brothers. The game hints at the two being close, with him playing video games with his little sister, showing her secret passages in the house and being everything, you’d want in a big brother. However, after a battle with substance abuse and having to go through rehab, he began to struggle with his mental health. His boring daytime job at a cannery was slowly wearing him down and so, he imagined a fantasy world – where he achieved great things. It began to consume him, to the point where he’d not speak to anyone for weeks, causing his family and therapist to worry. Eventually, the real Lewis became a hated figure in his mind, and he longed for the fantasy to come true. This culminated in him committing suicide and in Dawn and Edith leaving the family home for good, in an attempt for Dawn to protect herself and her last remaining child from meeting a terrible fate.

Out of the entire game, this story was the one that hit me the closest to home. Many people struggling with mental health conditions often feel like Lewis. The depression, the apathy, the feeling that the life you live has no point to it. We lose so many amazing people who become stuck in ruts as Lewis did, who suffer in silence and retreat into their minds to escape from its monotony. However, our minds can often be our worse enemies and in Lewis’s case, it provided him with an escape that eventually killed him. Lewis lost his sense of self, falling into a spiral of self-loathing and hatred that he sadly, couldn’t escape from.

The pain in Edith’s voice as she talks about her brother is clear. She feels powerless, guilty and the grief is still as fresh as it was when she first heard the news. The loss of a loved one will always hurt, as the hole they leave behind in the world will constantly remind you. However, the idea of someone you love, suffering in silence and deciding that death is the only option left to them, is a heart-wrenching thought. You rethink every interaction with them, overthink every word you’ve ever spoken to them and wonder what you could’ve done better.

The game is told from Edith’s perspective but when you think about how those emotions must be amplified tenfold for Dawn. Once I’d heard all of the Finch family’s stories and looked at the finished family tree, I realised just how much Dawn has lost. The loss of her baby brother, the divorce of her parents, the lingering guilt and grief after finding her other brother dead, witnessing her father die, then losing two children – one to mental health struggles that she felt powerless against and the other whose fate she never had confirmed, it’s no wonder she’s desperate to protect Edith. It makes the line you hear her shout as she argues with great grandma Edie, so much more powerful:

“My children are dead because of your stories!”

Our family can be our greatest support in times of need. They can save us from the darkness, pull us up and remind us that we are loved, we are worthy, and we are capable of so much more than our minds allow us to think. However, if we are deprived of that support, we can feel isolated and worthless, and in the worst cases, we could follow in Lewis’s footsteps. So, be there for those you love. Whether it’s your sibling suffering from depression or a cousin struggling with OCD, be by their side through it all. Appreciate your family, whether it’s the one given to you by blood or whether it’s one you choose. You don’t know how long you’ll have them with you for, so make the most of every minute. Make sure they feel as loved as they make you feel. Sometimes, just knowing someone has your back can make all the difference in the world.

Be kind to one another,

CaitlinRC.

Spyro The Dragon – Small but Mighty:

As I’ve mentioned before on the site, I was a PlayStation kid. When I was small, my parents were trying to find what it was that interested me, that brought me joy. They wanted something that they could bond with me over, which was hard to find considering how solitary some of my hobbies were. After seeing my excitement over a tiny basketball game themed around Shadow the Hedgehog that came with a kid’s meal at McDonalds, they decided to take a stab in the dark and see how I liked video games. So, we got a PS1 for the family. We picked up a few games such as Crash Bandicoot, Croc, James Pond and of course, Spyro.

For those of you who have done the maths and realised that the PS1 actually came out before I was even born, you’ll have realised that by the time I had got a PlayStation, the entire original trilogy of Spyro The Dragon had already been released for a good few years. I didn’t care. So many of my childhood memories are intrinsically connected with the adventures of the famous purple lizard, that I still revisit the series to this day. Heck, my mum, and I regularly 100% the games whenever I’m home for the holidays. It’s become a tradition, a chance to bond and catch up (and plot the murder of that goddamn bear).

Will Spyro ever get a holiday? No. He won’t.

Amusingly, I haven’t played the remastered editions of the original trilogy. My parents still have the original disks and a PS2 that is clinging on to life, so I’ve not seen the point of purchasing the remaster just yet. The same goes for the Crash Bandicoot games, not that I’ve ever finished the first one… Though now that I have moved out of home and am off living the adult life, maybe I’ll pick them up, as a little reminder of home. Having little things to remind you of home are important. Whether your home is with your biological family or the family you chose, being able to bring those people to mind when your thoughts get a bit too loud, is a comfort.

From the moment we are born, we build associations between our experiences and our reactions to said experiences. For example, when you touch a hot plate as a kid, you very quickly learn not to repeat that behaviour. That’s because your brain quickly makes the connection between that feeling of pain and the action that caused it – a technique called negative reinforcement. There’s been many a psychological study on the different types of reinforcement and their effectiveness but that’d take up more words in this article than there are grains of sand in a beach towel. Naturally, my mental health conditions have caused a lot of negative associations to be built in my mind, otherwise known as “triggers”. To combat that, I’ve tried to build positive ones. Spyro, has been one of these for as long as I can remember.

Some of these lizards still give me trouble now…

Whether it was a way to keep six year old me still whilst she checked my hair for nits, or a way to calm me down the night before my exam results, Spyro has become a lot more than just a game series to me. It has been the background to so many important conversations in my life – be that coming out as gender-neutral, discussing how I’m really feeling or coping with the loss of my grandfather, these games have become such an integral part of my life. As a military brat, I’ve lived in a lot of different homes. The main constants have always been my mum, my dad, my sister, and Spyro the Dragon. Whether it was sitting on moving boxes at age eleven right before starting secondary school or lounging on a beanbag the night before moving out of home, it’s something that I will carry with me forever.

Replayability of games is a big problem in the industry. After all, what’s the point of paying £40 or more for a game that you will only play once? Especially in more stressful financial times such as lockdown, deciding whether you can afford an expense such as a new game is a troubling one. Yet, the adventures of the pint-sized purple dragon retain the same level of excitement and comedic value regardless of how many times you’ve completed the games. It’s got to a point where we remember every single hidden nook and cranny, any secret areas, and shortcuts, as well as which areas we can assault Moneybags in. I hate that bear. So much.

I hope you fall in the piranha filled swamp.

There’s something about collectable based games that are very satisfying. The more popular AAA games tend to be harder to 100%, as there tend to be ten million odd bits to find. Take Assassins Creed 2 – with its endless supply of feathers to find, or the pigeons from GTA IV. Sure, you’d come across some of them across the course of the game but nowhere near enough to justify taking the time to hunt down the final few. Plus, the rewards are rarely worth it. Heck, catching all the Pokemon in the more recent games has become ridiculously difficult (due to trading requirements and version restrictions) yet all you get is a digital achievement. However, with the Spyro games, you get rewarded for picking up everything and anything you can find.

As much as I despise Moneybags and his constant appearances in the trilogy, as well as the later games, he does serve a valuable purpose. To unlock certain abilities, levels, and areas, you need to pay this money grubbing bear a specific fee. He acts as a barrier to ensure that you are collecting the treasure that is scattered all around the worlds in the Dragon Realms. As you progress through the game, his prices increase, actively encouraging you to be a completionist to reduce the time you’d have to spend backtracking. Plus, at the end of Year of the Dragon (the third game), you get to chase him around and torch his bottom until he surrenders all the gems, he stole from you.

My favourite of the original trilogy. Getting to try other characters, Sparx levels, new mechanics and approaches? Beautiful.

Although the original trilogy did have its problems (looking at you wonky flying mechanics and the Hunter minigames in the Spyro 2’s speedways), it always rewarded it’s players. Be it unlocking a permanent fireball upgrade, a treasure horde, or a series of fun minigames, your hard work pays off. Also, there’s something incredibly satisfying in opening the progress menu and seeing those golden 100% markers next to every level.

Regardless of my emotional ramblings, the Spyro trilogy is still good fun so give it a shot. As of this article being published, I’ll be off celebrating my 21st birthday with my family so I hope you all have a fabulous day and are staying safe!

Remember to like, comment, and follow the site both on WordPress and over on our twitter @OurMindGames. Till next week,

CaitlinRC.

Deep Platonic Love – A Guide To Tolerating Other Humans:

Love. Some say that it’s merely a biproduct of our brain chemistry, others cling to their belief in soulmates. There are so many stories in mythology, history and common folklore about the love between gods and humanity, how those feelings could overcome the greatest distances or the most grievous injuries. People tend to only really focus on two types – romantic love and familial love.

Personally, I’ve never experienced romantic love. I struggle with emotions as it is, so I can’t really imagine what it must be like to fall head over heels for someone like sappy romance novels attempt to describe. Loving your family though? I’m lucky enough to have them feel as strongly towards me as I do towards them. I love my family more than anything and will continue to protect them, be that from external dangers or my own mental state.

Another type though, is often the most influential. Platonic love. Love towards your friends. It’s more than being loyal or confiding in one another, it goes so much deeper than that. They become a part of you. When you see a message from them or see them smile, it makes you smile too. Their happiness is intertwined with yours. It’s hard to describe.

There aren’t quite the right words in the English language that can truly express how deep and powerful a connection between friends can be. If you just stop for a moment and imagine your closest friend. View every detail of their face, their little mannerisms. How their eyes light up when they laugh, how excited and passionate they become when talking about something they love. Now, push away that image. It hurts, doesn’t it? That little pang, that tug of sorrow. You miss them, even though, they were just a mental image.

If you have a friend like this in your life, treasure them. Hold onto them with every fibre of your being. They are the kind of friend who you can not talk to for months on end, yet still have that same closeness as if only an hour has passed. You don’t have to be together in the same room for them to have an impact on you. Be it a letter, a message or just talking about them to someone else, often that’s more than other to put that little spring in your step.

Love, adoration, loyalty, protectiveness and pride, are all emotions that rise to the surface when that person comes to mind. Whenever they achieve something, you want the whole world to know how amazing they are and more importantly, you want them to recognise how brilliant they are.

I have a few friends like this. They know who they are. Be it playing Tomb Raider whilst they tidy their room, talking about vampires and niche musicals, just lying next to one another doing our own thing or getting trolled by the NATO alphabet, these are people that you can depend on. They have made such a substantial difference on my life and who I have become.

I believe in myself more and more, because they encourage me. I am less afraid to tackle the demons in my head, because I know they will be right behind me to catch me if I fall. If I need them, they will be there as soon as they can. They would go to the ends of the earth for me and I would do the same for them. Not because I want to date them or because they’re related to me by blood, but because they deserve the world.

Support them and they will support you. Especially in times like this.

CaitlinRC.