Rachel is Playing Pentiment

I’m playing Pentiment. Again. 

Pentiment is an RPG where you play as Andreas Maler, a journeyman artist in 16th Century Bavaria who solves several murders in a fictional town called Tassing. It is a visual novel, meaning playing the game largely consists of reading, making choices, and the occasional minigame. The story outcomes change in different ways depending on the choices you make. It takes around 15-25 hours to complete the game. 

The game was released with the launch of GamePass for Xbox, meaning you could play it for free as long as you had a subscription. Critics loved it. Players were pleasantly surprised that this game set during the Reformation was really cool, actually. I am not the first person to sing its praises, and I doubt I am the first person to fixate on it. It’s a really beautiful game, both visually and narratively.

Nothing in these descriptions gives you an idea of what it feels like to play Pentiment, though. At least, it doesn’t give you an idea of what I feel when I play Pentiment. I imagine there is someone out there who played Pentiment a single time and thought, “That was a great visual novel,” and went on with their life. In fact, I imagine there are probably a lot of them. I am not one of them. I haven’t been able to walk away since I finished it last winter. 

It’s a particularly beautiful game if you’re a person who loves the little details. The dialogue is written in different types of script, depending on who you’re talking to. There’s a monastic script for monks, a humanist script for educated townspeople, a peasant script, as well as a script used by the scribes. The printers don’t have a script at all but instead a printing press typeface. From the very moment you begin talking to a character, you can already make assumptions about them from the font you’re reading. And it changes! The fonts aren’t based on who you’re talking to, but rather what Andreas has assumed about them. If he learns something contrary to what he thought about a person, the font will shift. 

There’s hundreds of little details like this, some I probably haven’t even noticed. Yet. When I think about the act of playing the game as many times as I have, and as many times as I want to, I think it comes down to my love of collecting little details. 

But that isn’t entirely it. I love the story itself. I love the characters. I love how children are always around. I love that there isn’t a satisfying answer to who committed the murders. I love the fall out from the end of each act. I love how the game ends. 

I keep imagining someone—sometimes my brother, sometimes a stranger, sometimes no one at all—asking me, “Why do you keep playing Pentiment?” I have tried to find an answer that would satisfy them. I’m playing it because I want to uncover every detail. I’m playing it so I can make every choice. I’m playing it because I want to prove it’s perfect. But when I ask myself the question, none of that is really true. 

I am playing Pentiment again because I love it, and this is my favorite way to love something: to dissect it, to know it in its entirety, to see how each piece of it fits together. And in this way, Pentiment has only ever rewarded me for digging deeper.

What Else is Going On?

In addition to starting a new run of Pentiment, I have picked up Stardew Valley for the 1,000th time as well. I am enjoying taking it slow this time around. I am not rushing to get married or complete the Community Center. I hope my fictional grandpa’s ghost will understand that I need to work at my own pace. I imagine by year three, I will have what I need to get his blessing, though. Let me know who you think I should romance this go around. I’m thinking I might have Krobus move in as a platonic life partner, but please make the case for any bachelor or bachelorette you are passionate about.

▶ Second Window Viewing: Mike’s Mic’s Lost Recap Series is keeping me company while I play

▶ Current read: I’ve started Ottessa Moshfegh’s Lapvona

▶ Song on Repeat: Can’t stop listening to hunting days by Khatumu