I Played Journey for the first time in 2020: An enchanting odyssey, more significant than ever

So… I’ll try to limit as much as possible projections of doom and gloom that have been the preface to every thought, article, podcast and discussion over the last tumultuous year; a year that arguably felt like the logical progression from what was an equally tumultuous decade. That said, both personally, and as earthlings, I think it’s fair to say we’ve ran the gamut. My good friend, Scott Seabridge, recently wrote eloquently on the healthy escapism music has offered; the warm blanket of sonic nostalgia under which, momentarily, we might shelter from the storm and find some peace and recover. Seeking shelter from that same storm I picked up and played Journey for the first time in a single sitting.

The collaborative release from ‘Thatgamecompany’ and ‘Santa Monica Studio’ released for PS3 back in 2012 has ever since been lauded as an artistic masterwork of gaming. It’s a game I’d heard so much about; the purity of its design, the beauty of its art, yet I’d resigned myself to never playing it due to my monetary convictions to master chief as a teen. It was with great anticipation then, after it appeared fortuitously into my feed on Steam, that I was loading up what I’d heard described in mysterious and alluring tones as, “uncommonly enthralling”.

The game suggests its goal gently, opening with the sight of a distant mountain that towers over a vast expanse of desert landscape depicted in a a smooth and simplistic art style. Peeking from the sandy dunes stretching out before me, the partially submerged ruins of some unknown, ancient civilization acting as oases to quench the thirst of the curious mind. Tentatively, I began to move slowly through this sublimely desolate landscape, coaxed towards a flag of red fabric floating in the breeze. My crimson cloaked explorer reached the crest of the hill and was prompted to interact, followed by a pleasing, warm musical tone. In reaction the flag of fabric sprung into life, fragmenting and splitting into the air swimming in graceful unison like a school of fish. I stepped closer and with a glow of magical energy one strip of the swimming fabric absorbed into the flowing scarf, draped around my explorer’s neck, manifesting itself in brilliant white hieroglyphs. I realised then that using the power from this glyph my robes were able to send my lone exploring floating up into the air as if riding a gust of wind.

From there I travelled through the open landscape, always under the watchful shadow of the mountain and proceeding deep into increasingly magnificent sepulchres of a long-lost civilization, perhaps of which, I am the last? The world of Journey does not impose those answers upon you, yet, as you pass beneath gargantuan arches and monolithic pillars or through the uncertain shells of former dwellings an archaeological curiosity is appealed to. I found myself in awe of this world, piecing together clues that might allude to any number of mysterious histories yet before the shape of any conclusion could fully form I found myself caught, as if in a sudden gust of wind or perhaps the quiet suggestion of the mountain, compelled by the path before me.

The scarf, gradually growing into flowing streamer as I collected glowing artefacts scattered through the world, imbued with the glowing glyphs allowed me to hop quickly across the sandy undulations at some speed. Eventually I found myself at an impasse, at the bottom of a deep, rocky basin that bore deep into the ground. Above was a high ledge I needed to reach through the floating powers of my robes… That’s when from behind I heard the familiar chime, a softly played musical resonance that I’d heard when interacting with the scraps of fabric earlier. For a second, I was taken aback, it was another lonely traveller in the same crimson cloak. They stepped closer emanating that same musical swell in communication, an acknowledgement of our shared goal, and surprisingly also imbuing my scarf with more energy to fuel its magical power. Working together we floated with ease up to the ledge, lending each other power and allowing us to float ever higher and faster towards our destination. Beyond the ledge expanded a deep plunging canyon through which the shoals of red fabric, which had now taken a more literal fishlike form, were now swimming en-masse into. With only a brief hesitation at the majesty of it all, me and my nameless companion followed, dropping down into the unknown.

Our two figures, dwarfed by the gargantuan sweeping valley we’d become engulfed in, glided and skimmed effortlessly atop the sand, leaving behind us smooth weaving trails, perhaps to be discovered one day by other lonely adventurers. We zipped and soared through rocky formations and dropped from cliffs into beautiful twisting ravines, alongside schools of mystical fabric creatures, the beautifully dynamic piano score of Austin Wintory building forever in jubilant swells. It’s honestly hard not to get caught up in the sublime emotion of it all, I’d risk saying it’s one of the most liberating and boundless feelings a game has ever offered.

Our journey continued, the mountain getting ever closer and although our only means of communication were through these warm musical bleats I started to recognise the personality in my companion, noting the small nuances in how they’d move around the environment, or their extra caution in the face of danger. It seems absurd really, that I felt some sort of connection with this nameless, faceless, other person in a video game. Within an hour and a half, our journey together was over, our two robed figures disappearing into a fog of blinding light. I’ll try not to be too overly sentimental, but it genuinely felt like we’d shared an experience that was, somehow, special. Something that we both might remember far beyond the time spent exploring that world together. This is all despite, in many ways, knowing nothing about one another, their gender, race, class, political alignment, were all irrelevant.

It might seem that I’m elevating my time with Journey, but, when placed into the context of the real world the divisions we’ve seen take a hold of every interaction: evermore polarizing opinion and politics that have culminated in the overwhelming factional ‘them’, and ‘us’, my journey through Journey does feel significant. Under the current climate I’ve personally seen the end of what were, lifelong friendships, and yet, I was able to find a connection with this random stranger that was oddly beautiful, even hopeful. For the two hours we spent exploring that mystic world, relying on each other, drawn forward by the call of that mountain, the philosophical, political moral maze, which has exhaustingly invaded every corner of life, was momentarily dispelled. As I write I’m simultaneously questioning whether these anonymous, good natured interactions are just a comforting illusion of the developers design, the warm blanket I’ve chosen under which to hide, but perhaps there really is some silver lining to be taken back to the real world. One that suggests we might one day find a way to put aside our differences, and, like the crimson travellers of Journey, find a way to come together under a common goal.