Quite different from their previous work in Vermis, Lost Dungeons and Forbidden Woods, though not entirely for the better. Godhusk: Rebirth is another old-school lore/strategy guide for an imaginary 90s video game, tugging on nostalgic memories of what it felt like to play games like Oddworld, or Metroid with an active imagination filling in the blanks of rudimentary game systems with stories more vast and mysterious than these systems actually created. Plastiboo's whole thing is a kind of dreamy, melancholy ode to retro creativity and the memory of old narratives that, when revisited, are never quite as good as you remember. Think of that heart-aching moment of revisiting (and promptly ruining) old comfort media in 'I Saw the TV Glow' and you're on the right lines.
But what if there were games that were as cool, and strange, and weird as those hazy recollections that flicker at the back of your memory like candlelight behind fogged glass? Plastiboo's 'Lore Game Books' are an attempt to create those fictional worlds and games, as reflected in the gorgeously illustrated strategy guides that often used to be published alongside them that would explain how to play the obtuse mess you'd just bought. The book is therefore filled with gorgeous, half-tone, dithered images of a rotting, biomechanical wasteland and the journey of a modular, self-mutiliating protagonist making their way through unsettling and alien locales towards multiple different endings.
Aside from the shift from dark fantasy RPG to sci-fi dying earth, this book has a much more miserabilist tone than Vermis, as reflected in (a) its increased focus on the grotesque offering less spaces for the sublime and creepy; (b) its more open-ended narrative with multiple branching paths and endings, as opposed to Vermis' linear journey that pushed the reader through its various environments that were connected by a kind of inexorable dream-logic; and (c) a slightly increased focus on suggestions of actual game mechanics rather than leaning more on the vibe of the journey.
This last part is a sticking point, since reading innumerable descriptions of enemies that could steal your items, one-shot you from nowhere, get into your inventory and eat your stuff, or have story-critical items lurking behind really obscure and unintuitive gameplay choices actually started to frustrate me. It's hard to luxuriate in the tone of this world when the thought of playing it actually made me mad, but I think that frustration is probably an intentional nod to how decidedly non-player friendly a lot of old-school games really were. This is a game that would never be made today, and which no one would really want to play, even though the memory of having played it might be quite rewarding, as reflected through the experience of reading through a strategy guide giving you all the answers and sparing you from having to actually experience its combat.
This increased focus on gameplay is a little odd since the world Plastiboo creates here actually manages to be genuinely alien. It's a kind of sci-fi Dark Souls vibe of lost, rotting H.R. Giger-esque biomachines who have run out of energy after a departed god ruined their fuel economy and a half-malfunctioning Dyson sphere concentrated sunlight at the planet's surface so intensely that machines melt if they step outside. In the cavernous underground spaces, esoteric cults, insane archivists, and numb, decrepit crawling things are interspersed between various hyper-Darwinian ecosystems where biomachines have ripped themselves apart and modified their limbs and mouths in odd arrangements to fill bizarre predatory niches as they hunt and devour one another in the dark. This intense Malthusianism doesn't leave much room for the (again) creepy Dark Souls-esque character interaction that Vermis had, so a lot of this book ends up just cataloguing the various different kinds of enemies the protagonist encounters, which creates a more bleakly apocalyptic and lonely tone without the same sweetly melancholic tang that made Plastiboo's previous work so tender beneath the darkness. Nevertheless, the creepy and bleak tone is well-maintained, and finely complimented by listening to the author's official playlist as you read.
There are a few annoying editorial faults in here. One page about 'Four Snakes' explains that only the fourth one is functioning, then gives combat stats for the third snake, despite having just told us that it is broken. Additionally, some of the page inserts of game mechanics come in at very awkward moments that break up the flow of the branching narrative. Plastiboo makes an active choice to throw the reader in at the deep end of the world at the start, so we learn the mechanics in line with our increasing understanding of the setting, but, while this helps control the tone of the book, it does come at the expense of more authentically capturing the strategy-game guide format which (if I recall correctly) did tend to have separate sections for gameplay, lore, and walkthroughs. Since this book takes more interest in mechanics than Vermis did, this departure from its inspirations becomes more obvious, as it often feels like new mechanics are just inserted into the book quite arbitrarily.
Nevertheless, the art (brown and dark as it is, lacking much opportunity for more lush colours) remains impressive, with many warped and gruesome creatures I had to do double or triple-takes on as I struggled to figure out what kind of eerie monster I was looking at: where its eyes were, where its mouth. The branching narrative also creates some evocatively suggestive narrative threads, as the reader must wonder what endings like [Purity] or [Ecdysis] consist of with only a few contextual suggestions and some unsettling single image on the book's final pages for clues. The impression I received was of a story intent on criticising transhumanist cliches, with the replacement of flesh for metal only leaving the rusting inhabitants of this world with a greater longing for the divine. But of course, that only creates its own horrors for these godhusks and their cycles. Or, to put it another way:
Not as brooding as Vermis but certainly as philosophical. This definitely felt like a manual, and there were a few times where I wished I could play the game—though I know it wouldn’t be as good as how I imagined it. The art was pretty cool as well! I would die for Cassiel.
another banger from plastiboo, is anyone surprised
similar to vermis in that its a guide to a fictional game, this time with a sci-fi take. i always find myself excited to turn the page with one of these books, just because i can't wait to see what the art on the next page is gonna be
excellent world building, excellent art, whats not to love
Come i precedenti Vermis, anche questo nuovo Lorebook di Plastiboo è un vero capolavoro di ispirazione. Un'estetica gigeriana resa come un videogioco di metà anni 90 (un metroidvania, mi è venuto da pensare) dai molteplici finali e dall'ambientazione che anche alla fine rimane oscura, e proprio per questo capace di suscitarmi meraviglia.
The best guide for the Contra x Another World x Oddworld: Abe's Oddysee x Neon Genesis Evangelion action adventure game you've never played and will never play
De las tres obras de Plastiboo que he leído, esta es la que más me ha gustado. Creo que es porque es lo más parecido a lo que para mí sería la guía de un videojuego. Admiro muchísimo lo desbordante de la imaginación de Plastiboo, y no solo en el apartado gráfico. Los nombres de todos los elementos que se pueden encontrar en la obra me han parecido geniales. Desde los nombres de los personajes hasta los de los objetos equipables, y pasando por los nombres de los sitios. Me han ayudado mucho en la experiencia inmersiva, casi tanto como las ilustraciones.
SPOILERS AHEAD!!
Igual que en sus otras obras, Plastiboo nos ofrece aquí una ventanita al complejísimo lore de un mundo que sería inabarcable en una novela de estas dimensiones. Es cierto que esta vez nos asomamos a este mundo de una forma mucho menos guiada que en las obras anteriores, pero para mi gusto esto juega a favor de la obra y del efecto de guía de videojuego que pretende transmitir.
La aventuras de nuestro "THE HAND" tienen lugar en un mundo consumido por el tiempo, en el que las formas de vida basadas en el oxígeno desaparecieron hace milenios y en el que se imponen los organismos artificiales. Híbridos de máquina y ser vivo pueblan los lugares que transita nuestro avatar. Todos los seres de este mundo son propósitos atados a un recipiente, a un "vessel". Algunos de ellos han evolucionado hasta el punto en el que la consciencia los empuja a la supervivencia, y otros se han quedado en autómatas empeñados en llevar a cabo su tarea. De entre todos ellos, mi favorito es el "BROADCASTER", una especie de bibliotecario digital inofensivo cuya memoria se ha fundido con las grabaciones de aquello que pretende preservar. Me parece un concepto chulísimo.
La historia principal está relacionada con un ser llamado Obek, pero la verdad es que no puedo decir mucho más sobre ella. Plastiboo oculta la historia tras el declive que lleva a la vida al estado en el que se encuentra ahora en el mundo que crea, y opaca la identidad y propósitos de Obek a conciencia para contribuir al misterio.
Tendré que jugar el juego para saber más, si es que algún día llega a hacerse. Mientras tanto, me conformaré con ver vídeos explicativos para enterarme de algo más. Desde luego, pienso seguir leyendo todo lo que Plastiboo publique.
Plastiboo at it again with incredible pixelated and non pixelated art reminiscent of H R Giger, Dark Souls, Silent Hill, and Mad God. They might be my favorite contemporary artist in general. Absolutely compelling, haunting world design with an interesting way of delivering narrative. This time around, things are more philosophical than Vermis, but that's a change I really appreciate. It's all the more important to write of a dying, hostile world with little actionable hope, in a reality that is of the same nature. What does it mean to reorient yourself after the world collapses under its own weight? To find meaning in it, to do something, but anything you can do has its own complications? How do you grapple with the concept of the divine, if you do believe in a higher power? Has it abandoned you, or have we abandoned it? If you love horror, if you read game guides as a kid with gripping fascination of how that game world worked, or if you like ARGs or games that do not exist, please read this book and the Vermis series. I can't recommend it enough and they will always have a place at the bookstore I work for. The last page, though I will not say what it is to not ruin the surprise, was so stirring and evocative in its wordlessness and what it implied that I'm still thinking of it a week later.
Plastiboo is ascending - the 'strategy guide for a game that doesn't exist' subgenre is the most delicious I've encountered in the past few years.
Godhusk is an entry in the metroidvania genre, and the book itself is a brilliant recreation of everything that makes these sorts of games special - meticulous atmosphere and worldbuilding, a labyrinthian structure which requires careful memory of previous explorations in order to progress, and a suite of devious secrets for those willing to hunt.
Much like in a MV, you'll flip back and forth through the pages of Godhusk, drawing connections between key objects, characters, and locations to piece together the world and figure out how you might pursue your favored ending if you were actually playing the game. This is such a rich creation, what a spectacular merging of form and content. I'd love to see Plastiboo attempt a strategy guide for a point and click game, or a puzzler, just to see how much more interactive these experiences can become.
An absurdly beautiful, grotesque thing. A lump of microchip-encrusted flesh in your hands.
When one feels like they're drowning in their own body - when they're hyperaware of the way they are perceived and the way that even something as simple as the texture of their own skin is wrong - where better to retreat than the imagination?
Plastiboo's guide to a video game that does not exist captures the imagination and then runs away with it. Things go unexplained and then you'll see something later in the book that makes you go "oh wait!" so you flip back and forth. It unfolds like a game itself, an exploratory marvel that easily stands beside Plastiboo's previous venture, Vermis (even if I prefer the trappings of dark fantasy).
And the art is, as always, sublime in that grimy way that makes you want to see these pieces moving and animated, even if they are forever ossified within this artbook. Different ending screens with esoteric meanings force you to examine them carefully to impose your own meaning. Really gorgeous and highly recommended.
Excellent! A return to form for Plastiboo. While I very much enjoyed Vermis 2 , it felt more like a conventional story than the video game guide as Vermis did. That unique theme and storytelling motif is back with Godhusk! If anything I may like this one even better than Vermis, the art is certainly something to behold, which some callbacks to Vermis for the discerning reader. There is so much to uncover and the story is amazing. Would recommend reading it while listening to the Vermis Sounds of the World album if possible, as it really sets the tone. All in all a hearty recommendation from me!
Man, this book brings me back. I used to love playing Godhusk on the Silver Whale back when I was a teen. I never managed to get farther than Rust Town in my playthroughs, and it's crazy how much more stuff there was in this game. This guide really brings the game to life and makes if feel like I was really there, even more so than the Silver Whale virtual visor. Absolutely love the art and the extra lore.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Beautiful artbook that takes you on a journey through a video game that doesn't exist. However the fact that it doesn't exist does not stop it from having an amazing world built for it. This time around we're treated to a sci-fi aesthetic that is both scary and exciting. I really enjoyed my time exploring the pages of Godhusk, but I think I found Vermis to be just a bit more memorable
Solid Metroid type follow up to the vermis series. Love the change from fantasy to something more mechanical and grimy. Toes the line perfect between between game manual and storyline
Save the baby, please please choose to save the baby!
this is the coolest thing I have ever laid my eyes and hands on. the art and world building are miraculous and vile. i would pay so much money to play this game if it was real - but for now I will escape into these pages and emerge rebirthed!
Such cool world building within a fake video game walkthrough guide accompanied by some creepy retro illustrations. Haven't read anything like it and probably won't again.
This guy makes the most fire art. Even if you aren’t into the weird little video game manual thing, it’s worth checking out just to look at it. It’s gorgeous.
Es que es absurdo lo bueno que es por dios como se puede tener un cerebro TAN GORDO!!! Ojalá existiera el videojuego pero no porque sienta que me falte nada que no esté ya en el libro si no porque quiero poder perderme por ahí un poco más UFFFFFF
Es un nuevo libro guía de un videojuego inexistente, esta vez basado en un nuevo universo en el que hay máquinas biomecánicas entremezcladas con ángeles y dioses bíblicos. Un concepto muy interesante y ejecutado de una manera un tanto poco interesante. El mundo y universo que plantean podría llegar a ser tan evocativo como el de Vermis I, pero no llega a tanto puesto que se centra demasiado en aparentar una guía en la primera mitad del libro. Cuando llegas a la segunda mitad y comienza el lore, no estás tan interesado y tienes que ir hacia atrás para recontextualizar ciertas escenas y eventos. La estructura del primero es la que mejor balancea, en mi opinión, el roleplay de videojuego junto con la exposición de lore, pero valoro positivamente que en cada libro prueben un enfoque distinto.
It seems like there's a separate entry listed on Goodreads for this book. Not sure why that is, unless Godhusk: Rebirth is a different version of this book. This book is a lot less linear than Vermis and it's sequel. I think that threw some other readers off, but if you recall that this is meant to be a guide for a metroidvania style game where your going to and from a lot of different areas as new powers and equipment are unlocked, the format makes more sense. I really love how items that are referenced in one section pop up in later ones, allowing you to see the different paths that one would take to unlock different endings.
Yes, the appeal of this book is niche. Yes, I am part of that niche. I don't care! It's gorgeously illustrated throughout! Atmosphere that is thick and tangible. Taking into account Plastiboo's other works of a similar vein, I think this isn't the most successful in a technical sense. The book seems to change its mind about how much it wants to follow the 'video game pamphlet' format and I only bring it up as I think it was balanced far better in their other works. But when everything else is that good, who cares?
EXTREMELY awesome, creative, and well thought out. Not to mention the visuals are horrifyingly grotesque in the best way possible. I’m also obsessed with how unique this is, a lore/video game guide for a game that doesn’t exist. What a neat idea! I absolutely want to see this game come to life.
The art here is incredible, but the more explicit game guide structure and lack of character voice made it hard to get into this. Some odd editing choices too. I enjoyed it less as a story than Plastiboo's Vermis I/II, but I want to play this fictional game a lot more!