Not-Quite-A-Review: The Baron (2006)

You’re reducing the game to its twist-value.

That’s the consequence of reducing the game to its twist-value. It becomes a disposable item, since it can only surprise you once.

When you release a literary text – and I believe IF games are literary texts – you are inviting people to visit your planet. Planet Thornton has a department of classical studies, a gay bar frequented by Caesar, a seedy strip club full of T.S. Eliot-quoting drunks, a statue of Pynchon, a cheeky Space Moose and a bunch of other stuff. Planet Gijsbers is dimly lit. It’s hard to see much, and the little you do see is symbolic, never literal, always referring to something beyond itself. As you explore Planet Gijsbers and realise that the axe isn’t really an axe, that it can’t be swung, and that the wife object isn’t even a proper object but a dumb noun with an EXAMINE routine attached to it, you come to the conclusion that you’ve been invited to the planet of a young man who is a bore to his friends and a nag to his family and whose imagination couldn’t fill a thimble, much less a planet.