The game Gone Home was developed by Fullbright and could be played via platforms such as PC, PlayStation 4, Xbox One, Nintendo Switch.
As I step into the dimly lit foyer of the Greenbriar home, the ambiance of Gone Home” envelopes me. It’s 1995, and I am Katie Greenbriar, returning from a year abroad to an empty house that whispers secrets of a family I thought I knew. This home, with its creaking floorboards and flickering lights, serves not just as a setting but as a vessel for a profound narrative exploration that weaves together nostalgia, cultural nuances of the ‘90s, and serious contemporary issues like identity and acceptance.
Through such exploration, I argue that Gone Home stands out in the mystery genre by weaving its narrative directly through its interactive mechanics and the architectural design of its game setting. Unlike many traditional games in the mystery genre that rely heavily on puzzles or external narrative devices, Gone Home uses its environment as a storytelling medium, creating a rich and nostalgia narrative experience that is both engaging, emotionally resonant, and profoundly exploring serious topics like identity exploration.
Navigating through Gone Home is exercising storytelling through discovery. Each room I enter offers up pieces of my family’s story—diaries, letters, and photographs. The game’s mechanics are simple: walk, look, and interact. Yet, these actions are immensely powerful, transforming the mundane act of picking up a cassette tape into a revelatory experience. As I press play on the stereo, a riot grrrl track blasts through, setting the tone for the rebellious undercurrents of the narrative.
The architecture of Gone Home is more than just a backdrop; it’s a narrative device. The house’s layout controls the pacing of the story—closed doors lead to new revelations, guiding me through a physical and emotional maze. In the basement, I find a hidden passage that tells a darker story of my uncle’s troubled past—a clever use of physical space to represent the hidden depths of family secrets.
The ‘90s setting of Gone Home is reflecting a transformative decade. As I explore, I encounter objects that evoke a strong sense of nostalgia—VHS tapes of “X-Files”, notes scribbled in margins of a ‘Riot Grrrl’ zine, a ticket stub from a Pulp concert. These items are not mere decorations; they are cultural artifacts that offer a deeper understanding of my character’s upbringing and the era’s influence on her family’s dynamics.
Such dynamics contain serious topics. As I delve deeper into the house, I uncover my sister Sam’s journey of self-discovery and her struggle with her sexual identity. This is portrayed with sensitivity and realism, grounded in the cultural and social attitudes of the time. Sam’s story challenges the player to confront the realities of rejection and acceptance within a family, making her revelations resonate with anyone who has ever struggled to find their place in the world.
However, nostalgia in the game not only embellishes the story with a sense of time and place but also critiques the selective memory of cultural and personal history. The game prompts me to question which aspects of the past we choose to remember and which we choose to forget, highlighting the biases in our own reminiscences.
Playing Gone Home is like walking through a detailed memory lane of not just a family but an era. The game uses its mechanics and setting to craft a narrative that is deeply personal and culturally significant. It teaches us that understanding comes not from grand gestures but from the quiet moments of connection and the courage to confront what we find in the shadows of our homes and hearts. As I leave the Greenbriar residence, I carry with me not just the story of Katie and her family, but a reflection on the complexities of coming of age in any era.
