Undertale : Can a Game Give Hope?

What makes a real game? Who is a gamer? And what type of play do we value?   On the surface, the 2015 game Undertale didn’t seem like much, supported by fan funding and with minimalist retro graphics. But despite its pixelated monsters and dated role-playing mechanics, Undertale invited fans and players to rethink their very relationship with gaming and game characters. Players encountered an extraordinary range of possible play experiences, with paths through the game’s unassuming world leading to both empathy and extreme violence, offering room for reflection and growth. Players could befriend (sometimes queer) monsters or kill them, for instance, appealing to each monster’s unique personality to negotiate survival and find community.   Contextualizing this game’s success in the wake of the GamerGate online harassment campaign and meditating on questions of violence and authenticity, writer and game scholar Anastasia Salter offers a profound exploration of this game sensation and a personal story of hope at a time when Salter was otherwise “done” with games. Undertale’s unique structure helped make it synonymous with “indie” games, built outside of the studio as a passion project and inspiring similar passion among its many fans even a decade later. But Undertale’s story also speaks to an auteur dream: what game developer Toby Fox and his collaborators accomplished on a small budget, with relatively simple tools, has left people replaying, arguing, and creating in its wake.   As we enter a cultural moment where intense interest is shifting towards flashy creativity, powered by generative artificial intelligence, Undertale reminds fans and newcomers of the power of thoughtful and intentional human design.

What makes a real game? Who is a gamer? And what type of play do we value?
 
On the surface, the 2015 game Undertale didn’t seem like much, supported by fan funding and with minimalist retro graphics. But despite its pixelated monsters and dated role-playing mechanics, Undertale invited fans and players to rethink their very relationship with gaming and game characters. Players encountered an extraordinary range of possible play experiences, with paths through the game’s unassuming world leading to both empathy and extreme violence, offering room for reflection and growth. Players could befriend (sometimes queer) monsters or kill them, for instance, appealing to each monster’s unique personality to negotiate survival and find community.
 
Contextualizing this game’s success in the wake of the GamerGate online harassment campaign and meditating on questions of violence and authenticity, writer and game scholar Anastasia Salter offers a profound exploration of this game sensation and a personal story of hope at a time when Salter was otherwise “done” with games. Undertale’s unique structure helped make it synonymous with “indie” games, built outside of the studio as a passion project and inspiring similar passion among its many fans even a decade later. But Undertale’s story also speaks to an auteur dream: what game developer Toby Fox and his collaborators accomplished on a small budget, with relatively simple tools, has left people replaying, arguing, and creating in its wake.
 
As we enter a cultural moment where intense interest is shifting towards flashy creativity, powered by generative artificial intelligence, Undertale reminds fans and newcomers of the power of thoughtful and intentional human design.