The–sorry–discourse around Blue Prince has been weird as hell. Everyone who got access to it before its launch came out of the gate raving about it. This set up a lot of expectations for its wider release; from the conversations I’ve seen, some people feel pressured to like it, or like they don’t “get” the game if they don’t. Others seem to feel they have to defend why they aren’t psyched on it, while people who love it are quick to offer advice for those who don’t. I’ve been doing my best to play the game over the last few weeks, but I’m struggling to figure out how to approach it in a sensible way.
When the headline for this blog popped into my head after playing Blue Prince all Sunday morning when I meant to go outside instead, I realized I’d written a not-dissimilar blog about Balatro early in its popularity. That was another game that 1. noted sicko Chris Person loved, and 2. has a depth that gobbled up players’ time in a manner similar to Blue Prince. Both games appear straightforward on their surface but hide a ton of discoverable strategies and secrets. This is a good thing: It rules that we’ve been getting such a wealth of unique indie games these days.
I think I’m liking Blue Prince? I’ll admit that I’m less than 20 in-game days into it, in part because I kept watching YouTube guides and then starting new saves. I don’t think I’ve had any kind of big “ah-ha” moment over its puzzles yet. I’ve definitely realized something I thought was just set-dressing was actually a clue, and I’ve already been smugly sure I understood what a puzzle wanted only to find more information that let me know I was totally wrong. I haven’t had a moment that makes me want to sink all my free time into it yet, but that doesn’t mean I’m not enjoying it. I’m the happiest in the game when I draft a room I haven’t seen before because exploration is one of my favorite things in games, and I like the promise that there’s lots of new things to see that I have no inkling of yet.
But the qualities that make the game so compelling for players diving into its endless depths also make it hard to get into. I have this constant vague stress that I’m missing something because I’ve been told there’s so much to miss, or the feeling I have too many chores because I vaguely know there’s so much to do; at the same time, I can’t just check off these tasks during a run given the game’s interconnectedness and RNG. The exhortation to “take notes” baffles me: what are the notes supposed to look like, what am I supposed to be taking notes on if I don’t even know what could be a clue yet? Lately I’ve taken to organizing my notes by day, just to give them some kind of structure. It’s possible this advice doesn’t gel with me because, as a games journalist, I’m almost always taking notes when I play a game anyway, so “take notes” for Blue Prince isn’t as helpful advice as, say, being told I’ll need a notebook to do math for Lorelei and the Laser Eyes.
When I try to bring these feelings up to Blue Prince devotees, they struggle to offer meaningful advice. I’m not always sure what I’m supposed to be doing in the game in a metaphysical sense, and anyone who can nudge me in that direction has tens to over one hundred hours in the game but doesn’t want to spoil anything in a game where everything seems to be a spoiler. Sometimes it feels like the nature of press and players getting early code has a little bit accidentally ruined the game for those of us just starting: you have Blue Prince experts and Blue Prince noobs, and we’re shouting to each other across the unspeakable chasm that is the nature of the game. It feels like people who love the game are in love with a game I haven’t started playing yet, and they can’t do much to guide me toward that game without unintentionally ruining the process that made them fall in love with it.
In general I try to avoid slating myself into the category of “normal” people when it comes to video games, since I play them for work and am surrounded by other people who do the same. But in the case of Blue Prince I’ve realized that maybe I need to not talk to my professional peers about it and instead turn to you, our readers, and my real-life friends who are playing the game alongside me. We are playing the game that many other people played weeks or months ago, and they played that game without the lure, but also the pressure, of the passion for the game’s secrets to navigate alongside its shifting house.
How are you drowning out the noise and just… playing the game? What are you literally doing in a run; what do your notes look like? How are you setting goals? Are you liking the game–do you feel like you’re making meaningful progress, or are you, like me, constantly a little bit stressed that you’re doing it wrong? (In fairness, I feel this way about everything in my life.) How do you decide how long to play for, or when to end your play session for the night? Do you have any tips that aren’t spoilers, but also aren’t the same “NO SPOILERS!” videos that tread the same ground about strategic dead ends and notebooks? Did it take you as long to realize the pun of the game’s name as it took me?
It’s cool to have an indie game that’s stoked so much passion, and I think it’s a real testament to the game’s design that it’s created such a uniquely-shaped conversation. When I’m frustrated in my runs, I do draw inspiration from the possibility that the next room I draft might be the one where I cross the threshold from Blue Prince curious to Blue Prince fanatic. I will surely get there long after everyone else has moved on to the next thing, but maybe all of us non-sickos can get there together.
