I feel like I’ve gained a measure of metroidvania gaming cred by beating Hollow Knight. Because it’s now regarded as a classic and one of the finest examples of the genre, I was a little embarrassed to admit I had tried and failed to get into it several times after my brother-in-law recommended it to me. The atmosphere at the beginning of the game is drab and bleak. There are hints of lore, but your character, the knight, is a mystery — devoid (for now) of backstory and hence motivation. You are seriously underpowered, with new enemies seemingly around every corner and your only weapon a rusty nail. There’s no map, no way forward but exploring and, inevitably, dying — over and over again. Each of the many, many times you die, you leave behind your shade, a ghost you eventually realize is also holding all your hard-won geo (money) — until you return and destroy it. You respawn at the last bench you sat on, which, if you were careless, might be far from where you died and your shade is waiting. Die again before killing your shade? Your money is gone for good. One time I lost over 7,000 geo that way. It felt like getting mugged, and I had to put the game down for the rest of the day to emotionally recover.
Hollow Knight was almost impenetrable for me. Almost. There was so little I could latch onto — not a charismatic protagonist, not a clear mission, not even a colorful world. Just gray, desiccated bug husks everywhere and a gloomy soundtrack. The first few times I tried to make a start, I was unfamiliar with metroidvania games, so I didn’t even have the hope promised by their formula: just keep exploring and you will earn more health, gain new abilities, and access new areas. No, it was just a gray, lifeless world, and I was a tiny bug-man with a tiny sword, and why the heck do people love this game so much?
And I guess it was that question that made stick with Hollow Knight — after at least one more false start. Playing through a number of different metroidvanias definitely helped too. Those games, especially Prince of Persia: The Lost Crown, really gave me the confidence to persevere. Yes, you will eventually get through that difficult platforming section. Yes, you can beat that boss if you just remember its attack patterns. Yes, you’re going to die a lot, but that’s how you learn. And, at least in the case of Hollow Knight, all the frustration and stress and time spent — 77 hours for me — feels like it was worth it. This game was incredibly challenging for me, not just in my ability to press the right buttons at the right times, but more importantly in my ability to persevere. That’s one of the things that people who malign video games just don’t get: Right now I feel a real sense of accomplishment because I just did a difficult thing that took me a month of steady effort. As someone with ADHD who is recovering from burnout, that is a huge win.
That said, I’m ready for a different kind of challenge after beating Hollow Knight. I’ll definitely continue to explore Mario Kart World — even knockout tour mode seems like a walk in the park after what I’ve just been through — and I think I’m finally ready to explore a genre that I haven’t yet learned to appreciate: turn-based RPGs. First up is Sea of Stars, which seems like a great entrypoint with its beautiful pixel art style, engaging fantasy story, and co-op mode so my kid (who is a turn-based veteran thanks to Pokémon) can show me why she loves these games so much.