#its more like.. from a narrative perspective of what twins usually represent & the fact that the abyss sibling literally tells the traveler

[dreampearls]

the one thing i actually really like about genshins writing that they keep on doing is the fucking. Dual identity shit like with pretty much all the archons + albedo + scara + literally the epitome of this being the traveler twins. I am going to pull my hair out

[eclectia]

Silent Hill 2: As A Disabled Woman

Please be warned this piece discusses ableism and abuse, including murder, and contains a minor mention [just a passing plot-point, not elaborated upon] of childhood sexual abuse.

The Ancient Land is in its final stages- I'm finishing up the coding and there'll be a demo very very soon; so in my downtime I've been working out other concepts and brainstorming a lot of various things for what may or may not become my next project. There'll be more on those in the coming weeks, but I wanted to post something slightly different in the meantime to make up for the fact that I can't really keep posting “yep, still coding, still bad at it”.

One of the ideas I had revolves around a horror game, and in working out concepts for it I've been revisiting some of my favourite horror franchises – films, video games, and novels, to try and work out what makes me tick, what makes horror tick, and how I can make my game tick. In doing so, I replayed one of my perennial favourites in Silent Hill 2. As well as being one of my favourite games, it is widely held as one of the best horror video games to date, held up alongside Resident Evil, Clocktower and Alone in the Dark as a foundation of Survival Horror.

It had been some time since I last played it, and when I was a newly-diagnosed diabetic it resonated with me because of its portrayal of chronic illness, more specifically, that a character within the game had one. There weren't any games that dealt with that subject matter in such a visceral manner. At a young age, 11, I was processing my diagnosis and trying to understand how it would effect my whole life, a process which I am still trying to come to terms with and this was isolating to say the least. I was traversing my own fog.

Silent Hill 2 is not my favourite Silent Hill, that honour goes to 3 – teenage girls in horror!-, but it holds a special place in my heart, important during a time of my life where I was processing the lifelong grief of my new diagnoses. And, as I grew and co-morbidity –the tendency for multiple conditions to cluster around a primary condition - meant I had a great many other diagnoses, I found myself revisiting those claustrophobic streets as a source of comfort. It seems oxymoronic to play a horror game for comfort, but horror as a whole is a genre I have often retreated to during my darkest periods. There's safety in monsters too fantastical to exist. Yet, the real horror of Silent Hill 2 for me isn't in its psychological monsters but in the real fears of ableism and sickness.

I realised as I grew that Silent Hill's handling of and representation of illness was the reason for my constant revisits. It comforted, repulsed, terrified and saddened me and helped me process the guilt of being sick. As my relationship with myself and my disabilities [they're multiplying!] has evolved so has my reading and relationship with Silent Hill 2. There will be spoilers if you've not played it, so if you don't want it spoiled don't read any further.

I am in two minds about it on many fronts, mostly for how it handles and represents disability conceptually and literally. On the one hand, stories about how disabled people are burdensome and which usually end with their dying are a constant staple. We are a tragic love story, and in many ways Silent Hill 2 reinforces this- indeed, this is the crux of the story. The narrative of Silent Hill 2 is driven by its unreliable protagonist James Sunderland; his actions are frequently cast into doubt and Mary's right to live is what drives the main conflict within James' psyche, manifesting as the horrors of the game. Her slow death, James' desire to prolong and shorten her life, and how this conflicts with both of their wishes all form important narrative milestones. James and Mary both are cast in sympathetic lights, and many players come to understand through the naturally presented narrative that James was in the wrong. At least I hope so.

This journey of guilt mirrors the traumas of the cast of supporting characters, all of whom are dealing with guilt stemming from murder – Angela kills her sexually abusive father [which frankly I cannot criticise]; Eddie, bullied, snaps and kills a dog and perhaps a person although this is left ambiguous. Between Angela's self defence, Eddie's snapping and James' sympathy-killing of his wife, there are many facets and stages of guilt portrayed within this game. And in this world, moral greyness, like fog, presides. Yet I don't think I can agree with how yet again a disabled character is killed off to forward the plot of an abled protagonist and often we feel sorry and empathise with him by vice of his being the player character. We view the game through his perspective, and in controlling him the default perspective and empathy lies with him. This could be a problem if twinned with a player who's view and experience of disability is informed solely through media or second-hand experience. Being asked to sympathise with a character, especially one who killed a disabled woman, might lead to your average abled person simply thinking he is in the right because, concerningly, it is something they would consider. Within the context of real life this sad story -of a carer or lover who kills a sick partner, thinking it's the best thing for them- happens all too often. A very real horror for me.

Just a few years ago, in Japan nonetheless, an able bodied man slaughtered 16 disabled people because he felt they were better off dead. I am not inherently against assisted suicide, but this is not that. It is important to note there is a form of ableist abuse wherein abled people coerce disabled people that they're not worth anything, and would be better off dead. I want to make it clear that these two things are entirely different. This is not, explicitly, the situation in Silent Hill 2. There is an ending where Mary thanks and forgives James but it is also shown Mary does struggle with feelings of self-loathing during the course of her illness; not brought on by James in any way, at least not actively, and definitely something I as a disabled woman have dealt with, but worth considering. And, I think, abled people want to feel justified in their views on the worth of disabled lives, so perhaps the apology is there as a form of catharsis for abled people more than it is anything else. It is OK to sympathise with James, we'd all do the same in his situation, disabled people all secretly want to be put out of their misery. This is the unpleasant streak that runs through the game, the crux of where our sympathies stem from.

Having mentioned this, his actions are never actively condoned by the game. It is simply a harsh reality of ableism that often, abled people think they are putting us out of our misery or that our existence is inherently twinned with suffering. I don't think the writers of the game were aware of this when they wrote this in, they simply wanted a psychological angle to take so this accidental aesop is perhaps, a fluke. Many aspects of the game were planned and researched meticulously, but as far as I know none of the development team had any personal experience with illness, so the game comes from their wholly abled perspective.

As I have grown as a person, I have come into my own internal conflict with the themes and presentation therein of the game. When I was newly diagnosed with a condition that, at the time I was told would carve years off my life and which needed lifelong medication simply to function, I found solace in Silent Hill. James' struggle to understand and cope with the death of his wife was similar to how I was struggling to cope and fathom the life-changing diagnosis I had had. I think, perhaps, that when I ran through the streets again and again I was searching within the game, for some ways of processing the diagnoses I found myself saddled with. James mourned his wife of 3 years [3 days] dead, I mourned for a life drastically changed in a matter of days. James, struggling to understand his wifes' illness, was just like me struggling with mine. I was lost in my own fog, in the streets of my own head trying to come to terms with myself.

Bearing this in mind, as I have grown up and come to terms with my conditions my attitudes towards the narrative of Silent Hill 2 have changed. In it, illness is this fearful beast – it could be you! You could be sick!-, except I was; and I didn't want scares, nor did I find the implicit implications of illness scary in the same way an abled person might. What might be horrifying to an abled person was just a daily experience for me. I knew how scary illness could be. I wanted to feel normal.

Looking for normality in a horror game might feel extraneous except for when we take into consideration that many monsters in horror are stand-ins for minorities within society; the queers in the vampire, the proverbial “other”, the rejection of Frankenstein's Monster. Like them, the monsters in Silent Hill 2 all represent something, illness and the multiple perspectives of illness that James has, and I found it less comforting and more... melodramatic. Illness is a daily fact of life for me, and using my existence as a threat to abled people – you could be sick and burdensome just like Mary- just felt insulting. In Silent Hill, illness and sick people are as much the monster as James. Mary looms like Orlok's shadow.

As a character Mary is shown to be multi-faceted; James' manifestations of his guilt and feelings about Mary show her to be venomous, angry bitter, a monster spitting acid but her final letter to him reveals that she admits to this, but more than that: she is a guilt-ridden wife who knows her illness is effecting her spouse. It is heart-wrenching, and beautifully written, and as an ending monologue is poignant and reflected many of the feelings I have felt as a disabled woman. There have been times I have lashed out to people I love because of a particularly bad month of illness, and then the guilt comes because I am only human. Anger, pain and this endless cycle is an intrinsic part of Mary's character throughout the game, and despite it all, Mary is shown to be all that James wants. This is not a narrative fault, but a character flaw within James that he readily recognises and criticises repeatedly, and again, desire and the nature of it is wholly human.

Mary's portrayal within the game is both progressive and sympathetic, and concerningly backward. Mary is humanised in a way that very little media about sickness has ever done, and shown as a multifaceted and complex character just as James' own motivations and desires are shown to be both good, and bad. My readings of Silent Hill are in no way the only way to read it, and in no way lessen the story Silent Hill 2 is telling; it is an amazing, visceral game with a humanising and terrifying portrayal of how illness can take over lives.  

Silent Hill 2 holds a special place in my heart. At a time in my life where I was processing the first of many illnesses to grip me it allowed me to process and deconstruct my own feelings towards my mortality, dwindling health and illnesses. Experiencing and living with illnesses is isolating and lonely to say the least, not least because of how abled people treat us and I think Silent Hill almost nails that on the head accidentally.

This is not to say that people living with spouses who deal with illness should feel wrong, or guilty, for feeling bad about illness and I am not silly enough to suggest that illness does not have an effect on those around me; it does, but the way Silent Hill missteps is in showing illness as a singularly burdensome, corrupting thing, and offering justification for James' actions. It is left up to the player, ultimately, but I do worry for how abled gamers might perceive and justify James within the wider context of society.

There isn't much point to this post. Its just a ramble, and an internal struggle, I've dealt with for a little while and decided to finally try and hash out.