I’ve moved a lot in my short lifespan. As of time of writing, I’m 22 years old. Between moving with my family, university and venturing out on my own, I’ve lived in over fifteen different houses. Sticking my belongings in various moving boxes and suitcases has become almost second nature to me. I have a lot of memories of clambering in and out of moving trucks, of being squished in the car by suitcases and bags, of eating pizza in empty rooms, of sleeping on inflatable mattresses when my bed was still in transport. Needless to say, I don’t have a major connection to specific places. It’s an entirely different process, my friends have told me, for those who have lived in one or two places for their entire lives.
Unpacking has you following through the life of one individual, as they move through various stages of their life and the new living conditions that come with it. You get glimpses at their journey, from the cabin bed in their childhood room, to the formation and downfall of a relationship, to discovering their identity and starting a family. All the stages culminate in a photo to go into the album, so they can look back at how far they’ve come. There’s so much detail and love in this game that if you’ve already played it, it’s definitely worth a replay.
If you follow my Twitter, you’d know that I recently moved into my new flat. It’s my first time living entirely alone (excluding the sheer chaos of the midnight beasts that my two cats embody) in my life and Unpacking brilliantly “unpacks” (Hehe, I’m hilarious) the feelings of anxiety, excitement, and fear that I’m sure we have all/will all experience in our lifetimes. It’s a soothing game, one that many streamers have played as a kind of “chill” stream to engage with their community. The atmosphere, the music, the goofy stickers awarded for doing odd little things like hiding the cookies on the top shelf or rearranging the fridge magnets, the detail on every object in the rooms – it all culminates in a calming experience that the real world seems to lack nowadays.
One of the reasons why Unpacking works so well is, in my opinion, the possessions that the protagonist takes from place to place. We as humans make emotional attachments to more than just other people. Associating locations and objects with specific memories are common practice and that sense of nostalgia only encourages us to hold onto the object in question, to keep that piece of your own personal history with you as you walk into the future. I’ve spent so much time looking forward, having to work and plan for the years to come that I don’t get a lot of time to look back at the steps I’ve taken. However, when I look at some of the trinkets I own, the memories come rushing back, clearer than ever.
Let me give you an example from my own experience. A few years ago, I lost my maternal grandfather. We called him Papa (a Scottish term). He passed a few years after my maternal grandmother, and I freely admit that I miss them dearly. Whenever we travelled to see our family in Edinburgh, we’d go to Granny and Papa’s little flat on the council estate and have a quiet lunch there. We’d spend the afternoon solving the same few puzzles they had for the thousandth time and head for walks along the canal. After they had both passed, we had the hard task of going through their flat and sorting out their belongings – choosing what we wished to keep and what would be donated to charity. I took a few things, one of which being a photo album – so I don’t forget what they looked like when they smiled at me.
There were a few other bits, like a bird ornament and one of the puzzles that I’d spent all those years re-doing. However, the item that I treasure the most is a little magic trick that he taught me how to master. Sure, the little metal disks that you can see in the image below don’t look like much and they’re slowly wearing away with time but when I look at it, I see a seven-year-old Caitlin sat on the carpet on a December evening, watching with fascination as my Papa seemingly makes one of the rings disappear entirely. I see him in the birds in the trees, in the neatly trimmed lawns of well-kept gardens. With these things, he is still with us. People live on through those who remember them. Nobody is truly gone, there is always someone who will pause to remember them, or something that will spark those dusty memories. Playing Unpacking, you look at each of the items and wonder what the story is behind them. Why did the protagonist keep that mug? Why do they keep adding chicks to their army of stuffed chickens?
Our possessions tell a story. Even for something as seemingly innocent as an ornament or a mug, can have dozens of stories attached to them. It is something I think Unpacking hints at, as you start to recognise objects from previous sections of the game, and you ponder at the additions of new ones.
I have a major soft spot for Unpacking, and it is clear a lot of others do. So, give it a go. It is a short experience, but it will bring you a sense of calm that you would be surprised how many of us are missing.
Till next time,
CaitlinRC.
