2476: The Growth of the Visual Novel

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When discussing my full writeup on Supipara earlier today, it occurred to me that visual novels are in a much better place here in the West than they were even a few years ago.

When I first encountered visual novels — like, first first encountered them — they were like a hidden gem of the Internet. Gorgeous Japanese pixel art, interesting stories, memorable characters and porn, all in one happy package. Naturally, despite a number of them having been officially translated by the well-established (and still standing) JAST USA, they were mostly distributed through… shall we say, questionable means. (If I remember correctly, this was still the days of KaZaA and Limewire over dial-up, well before BitTorrent became a thing.)

I had a lot of fun with some of these early visual novels but was never quite sure if it was “acceptable” to talk about them, what with them being widely regarded as porn first and foremost. Fortunately, a number of friends and I all discovered Parsley’s wonderful True Love around the same time, and found ourselves thoroughly captivated by its wide variety of different characters, its interesting stat-based gameplay and the various mini-stories each of the game’s heroines got you involved with.

Other memorable early visual novels I encountered included Ring-Out!! which was about a young girl sold into essentially sex slavery dressed up as professional (all-lesbian) wrestling for the gratification of rich, bored playboys with nothing better to do and less-than-progressive attitudes towards women. While this game’s plot was a thinly-veiled excuse to have, well, lots of lesbian wrestling in lingerie, it stuck with me long after I first played it because it presented the protagonist as a very “human” character caught up in events beyond her control, not quite sure how to deal with what was essentially a horrific situation to be caught in. There were a number of different narrative paths through the game, each of which explored what might happen if the protagonist responded to her situation in different ways. Short version, though: if ever you wanted to feel really, really bad about popping a boner over some lesbians doing lesbian things, Ring-Out!! is the game for you.

I also quite vividly remember Three Sisters Story, because although it presented you with the opportunity to bump uglies with all three of the titular sisters over the course of the narrative, doing so would cause you to suffer the indignity of a bad ending where you didn’t end up with any of them after the dramatic finale. This was surprising to me, and confirmed something I already suspected: there was a lot more going on in many of these games than excuses to display lovingly-drawn images of depraved sexual acts.

It would be a good few years before I got back into visual novels, and Japanese games in general. I typically credit Katawa Shoujo with my current interest in Japanese popular media, despite it being largely Western-developed, and by this point, discussion of visual novels — including their lewd bits — had become much more “acceptable” to many, though still not all, people.

After Katawa Shoujo, I decided to catch up on a number of visual novels, primarily from JAST, who were still pumping them out, and a couple from relative newcomer MangaGamer. I had a great time with many of them, and still fondly look back on a number of these titles such as the gloriously silly My Girlfriend is the President and the lengthy, emotional road trip story that is Kira-Kira!

Visual novels still hadn’t quite hit the mainstream, though, and this was disappointing to me, as here was a genre of game — no, I’ve often argued it’s a distinct medium in its own right — that was exploring subjects and themes more traditional games typically shied away from for various reasons, whether it be concerns over the subject matter itself to simply not being sure how to make a game about people just living their life actually fun and interesting to play. I wanted more people to appreciate this fantastic medium and enjoy the stories I’d enjoyed, but it remained difficult to convince many people that they were anything more than just porn, even if I cited specific examples of how they clearly weren’t.

When I look around today, I see a very different landscape. Visual novels are everywhere on Steam, and not just from Japanese developers: these days we have works from English, American, Russian, Korean authors… authors from all over the world who want to tell their story in the distinctive way that the visual novel medium allows them to. And the genre/medium as a whole has, I feel, finally hit the mainstream.

That’s absolutely delightful to see for me, as someone who was around when they were very much an “underground” sort of experience; the growth of the visual novel sector — both adult and all-ages — has been wonderful to observe, and so long as there are great stories that people want to tell, there seems to be no shortage of new experiences to enjoy.

There’s still work to be done — most notably with regard to the distribution of adults-only titles, which can’t be sold on leading digital distribution platform Steam in their uncut forms, and which some companies are selling the sexual content for separately rather than simply providing a free patch or alternative download — but for the most part, we’re in a much better place than we were even a couple of years ago. And, I feel, it’s only going to continue to get better from here.

Also, buy Supipara. (Read more about why you should do this here.) I want to see the other chapters released!

#oneaday Day 757: SEX!

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Let’s talk about sex. Sex in video games, to be exact.

I read this article over on Eurogamer today. It makes its point in a rather crude manner, noting that video games “can’t do sex”, going on to cite numerous examples including popular media’s backlash against Mass Effect‘s sex scene and BioWare’s subsequent retreat into their characters’ underwear; sex-focused games such as 3D Sex Villa 2; Second Life‘s notorious sex industry (which likely accounts for a considerable proportion of that virtual world’s economy) and numerous others.

But I sort of think that the argument in that article is a bit flawed. There seems to be something of a confusion in the distinction between “sexual content” and “porn”. I don’t think anyone is advocating the inclusion of outright pornography in our games, though this is often the assumption that mainstream media makes when news emerges of sexual content in a high-profile game. But the Eurogamer piece jumps from discussing Mass Effect’s soft-focus sideboob to games that are just plain porn. There’s no middle ground, it seems.

Or is there? Well, yes, but you have to look outside of the mainstream and outside of the pornographic games industry to find it.

Probably the most common example you’ll find of this “middle ground” is in the dating sim/visual novel/eroge genre. I’ve played a few of these over the years for curiosity’s sake and while some are just interactive porn stories (Paradise Heights springs to mind — there are no choices to make and a lot of fucking) others like True Love, Kana Little Sister, Three Sisters’ Story and, yes, Katawa Shoujo use their sexuality as something more than just a titillating scene for players to jack off over or something deliberately provocative to attract the ire (and thus inadvertent publicity) of the mainstream media. (This latter interpretation is a cynical view, I know, but I’ve seen too much video game marketing over the last couple of years to believe it doesn’t happen.)

Rather, these games use sexual scenes in context. Katawa Shoujo is perhaps the best example, with sex scenes proving to be a way for us to get to know more about the characters. We learn that Emi is adventurous and willing to try anything once; that Lilly, despite her prim and proper appearance, enjoys her sexuality; that Shizune is dominant in all aspects of her personality; that Misha is confused; that Hanako believes no-one will see her as anything more than a “princess” to be saved; that Rin craves intimacy, to find some way to connect to another person. All of these scenes feature explicit erotic imagery and text, but none descend into being porn — sex for the sake of sex. During the sex scenes with Rin, for example, there’s a lot of philosophising about what might be going on inside Rin’s confused, creative head. Lilly uses one of her sex scenes to show Hisao what it’s like to be blind. Emi’s “Anal.” scene is endearingly awkward as only teenage sex can be. And Hanako’s encounter with Hisao is faintly horrifying after the fact.

“I can’t fap to this!” was the war cry thrown up by members of 4chan upon playing Katawa Shoujo, but that’s not a bad thing — do you jack off every time there’s a sex scene in a movie? No, because that’s ridiculous. Sex doesn’t equal porn.

The same is true to a lesser extent in True Love, another dating sim based in a high school, though in this instance it’s a regular education institute rather than a special school. In True Love, gameplay revolves around managing the protagonist’s schedule so he builds up a series of different statistics ranging from creativity to sportsmanship. Different statistics will attract different members of the game’s cast, and this then sends you down their various narrative routes where, again, along the way you get to know them a whole lot better and, again, you get to shag them at least once in a scene that, while erotic, is more focused on characterisation than providing something for the player to get their rocks off to.

Three Sisters’ Story actively punishes players for being promiscuous, though not until it’s far too late to do anything about it. Throughout the course of the game’s story, the player gets the opportunity to have sex with the three sisters in question, but also has the opportunity to turn them down, too. If the player elects to have sex with all of them over the course of the game, the story doesn’t end well for our protagonist, even after he saves them from abduction. A degree of self-control on the player’s part is required in order to get the best ending. Do they want the sexy scene now, or do they want the story to end well?

Moving out of the visual novel genre, Silent Hill is another series which has always used sexual imagery to striking effect. Rather than being outright explicit about it, however, it tends to make use of more abstract imagery, leaving the player to interpret things for themselves. At no point in the game do we see exactly what made Angela so wrong in the head, but we can interpret that it was sexual abuse from her father. At no point in the game does James speak about his resentment over his wife’s illness depriving him of sexual gratification, but we can determine that from the appearance and behaviour of Maria, the various times Pyramid Head shows up and the grotesque mannequins who form the bulk of the game’s enemies.

You can’t fap to Silent Hill, in short.

Look at Catherine, too. The game’s just come out in the UK so a whole new wave of reviews has been hitting. I was rather surprised to see at least a couple calling it out for not being daring enough with its visuals — i.e. not showing any tits, muff, cock and/or balls. Despite the game’s focus on adultery, sexuality and adult relationships, there are no explicit sex scenes in the game, and nothing more than sideboob in the nudity department. But the thing is, there doesn’t need to be. Catherine didn’t need explicitly pornographic scenes to get across its point. Sex is a key theme in that game, but that doesn’t mean we need to stop for a fuck break every so often. Sometimes implying something can be just as powerful as showing it and — God forbid — making it interactive: Heavy Rain‘s painfully awkward interactive sex scene says “HHNNNGGG” at this juncture.

So can games “do sex”? Why yes, yes they can. Unfortunately, those games which do do sex and do it well tend to be confined to the specialist interest, cult classic or underpromoted independent title department. So why don’t we see large publishers taking more risks, producing more adult games with sexual themes and/or content?

Part of it is a marketing issue. Getting too explicit with the sexytime in a game will net a release an “Adults Only” rating from the ESRB, and that’s a big no-no for a lot of game retailers, thus hurting physical sales for the publisher. Given the growth of digital downloads, however, at least part of this problem goes away — there’s no shame in purchasing an Adults Only title online, and publishers can simply sell it themselves, which is generally a better deal for everyone involved anyway.

Part of it, too, is fear of backlash from the mainstream media and, subsequently, politicians who don’t understand the first thing about the industry, assuming it to be toys for children. California had a narrow escape just last year, and it’s doubtful that publishers want to take the risk of making the people in charge think that censorship of a creative industry still finding its feet is a good idea.

Do we “need” sex in games? If we want to explore the full gamut of human emotions in the interactive stories that we tell, then yes, we do. We need to get over the assumptions that everyone playing games is too young to be able to handle sexual content. We need to get over childish tittering at every sight of sideboob. We need to have realistic characters who have realistic relationships.

What this doesn’t mean, however, is that we need sex in all games. And those games that we do have sex in should justify its inclusion somehow, otherwise we’re right back to accusations of peddling porn again. Katawa Shoujo and its ilk are doing it right. Mainstream publishers could learn a lot from the risks that independent studios and those who tackle the development of a game as a creative rather than a technical or marketing project.

Who knows what the future holds? I certainly don’t. But it’s clear that the industry as a whole still has a lot of growing up to do as yet.