Rhetoric of Video Games Sketchnote
Depression Quest
I played a Twine-based Interactive Fiction game called Depression Quest, made by Zoë Quinn, Patrick Lindsey, and Isaac Schankler. In the game, you play as a young adult in their 20s who has a job, a significant other, and a supportive family, and who is also handling depression. The player navigates everyday events, such as socializing with friends, going to work, spending time with family, all while depression shifts every decision. The target audience is 1) people who live with depression, who may recognize themselves in it, and 2) people who don’t, who might understand a little better what someone close to them is going through. I played the entire game from start to finish for around 1 hour.
Depression Quest is an interactive fiction game – you read passages of text, and click on the options to choose what to do. In the author’s own words, the game “does not have an end really”. There’s no resolution or goal, other than to move forward. I’m not sure if this type of game has a specific genre – other than being a choice-based interactive fiction that creates empathy. The genre suits the message well – depression isn’t something you defeat just with skill or reflexes. The pace of playing the game was relatively slow because there was a moderate amount of text to read. Perhaps the text-reading mechanic was an intentional design choice that reflects part of what it’s like to have depression – being inside your head with thoughts that you can’t ignore. Personally, I don’t usually enjoy interactive fiction that is text-heavy. However, the amount of text was moderate, and the pace of the game was steady – contrary to my expectations, I found myself engrossed in the game.
Depression Quest tries to show that depression isn’t laziness or sadness, but something that quietly takes away your ability to choose, even when your life looks fine from the outside, and that support can slowly give those choices back. I think it succeeds, mostly because of its central mechanic of crossed-out options.
I think the game’s most powerful mechanic was these crossed-out options. In many scenes, the healthiest option, like telling Alex (your significant other) how you truly feel, is visible but struck through, so you can’t click it. You can see exactly what a “healthy” person would do, and the game won’t let you do it.
At the bottom of each page, three short status lines tell you the state of your depression – how depressed you are, whether you’re seeing a therapist, and whether you’re on medication. As your depression worsens, more of your choices get crossed out. As you get support, more open up. So the system itself makes the argument that depression narrows what you can choose, and that help from people around you widens those choices again. This reminds me of the concept of procedural rhetoric: the game makes its argument through its rules, not only its words. The crossed-out options persuade more than any sentence could, because you experience the limitation yourself as you play as someone handling depression.
I don’t think Depression Quest suffers from ludonarrative dissonance. If anything, it’s an example of the opposite: the mechanics and the story say the same thing. The story describes someone who can’t do what they know would help, and the mechanics literally stop you from choosing those options.
I’m making Sento with Baachan, a short Ren’Py game about soaking in a public bath with my grandma, whose memory is fading. Depression Quest made me reflect on a number of things:
- I liked the idea of having choices that you can see, but can’t take. In my game, the player struggles with whether to tell baachan the truth or correct her when her memory is ambiguous. A crossed-out option, when the player wants to say something but can’t bring themselves to, could show that inner conflict without spelling it out. Perhaps this is a mechanic to consider adding to my game.
- Depression Quest’s lines about the player’s depression status are a lot like the steam in my game, which thickens as baachan’s memory fades. Depression Quest reaffirmed that a simple indicator like status lines or visual steam could carry a lot of meaning and signal to the player. This confirmed my idea of using steam as such indicators, and I think it would be worth the effort, so I think I will go ahead and implement the steam into my game!
- Depression Quest is a story over the course of weeks, but the story itself consists of slow, small, everyday events. On the other hand, Sento with Baachan is a short conversation over the course of 5ish minutes. Although these two games span a very different duration of time, I was glad to learn that quiet pacing with less action could still have a lot of impact on the player.
- Although I enjoyed Depression Quest, the long walls of text did sometimes make me skim. My game aims for few words, and this reminded me to keep it that way.
Overall, the game made me think twice about text-heavy interactive fiction games. The writing was concise and easy to read, but it gave just enough context and cues to create empathy. The mechanic of crossed-out options clearly communicated the core message that depression takes away your ability to choose. Despite being text-heavy, it did not feel dull or sluggish because of its careful design, and I was blown away.
