My only major complaint involves navigation. There are some neat (and wonderfully bizarre) interactive details that don’t pertain to any puzzle, but I would have liked to see more.
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With few exceptions, objects can’t be picked up and examined, and most things in the environment can’t be manipulated. Unfortunately, the game isn’t very interactive.
When I did, however, I felt all the more accomplished. Myst gives no such directives, and I found myself surprised that I could make any progress at all. Most graphic adventures give the player a destination or an object to fetch, often visible on the screen, but just out of reach. I believe this comes from the fact that the player rarely has a goal. Although much more tangible and logical than I thought they were as a child, the puzzles have a special quality I haven’t detected elsewhere in the genre that makes them feel more arcane. Instead, I found puzzles unlike any others. In an early graphic adventure like Myst, I expected to find the prototype for many puzzles now familiar in the genre. Some areas feel forbidden and private, others chilling, and still more feel pregnant with puzzle solutions. Music plays at all the right moments, creating complex, yet precise moods. Although the embedded Quicktime video clips stand out awkwardly against the pre-rendered art, their grainy quality only heightens the strangeness of the island. But the pre-rendered backgrounds, the snippets of music, and even the sound effects establishes a surreal, ghostly atmosphere. Despite the Masterpiece Edition’s higher visual and audio fidelity, the FMVs are still grainy and the sound is still simple only one sound effect or music track can play at one time. Without its art and sound design, Myst’s atmosphere wouldn’t be nearly as compelling and unique. In the end, Myst does hold secrets, and while they aren’t as universally enlightening as I once thought, discovering them proves powerful. The arrangement of objects in a room can spell chilling dread and the words on a page might evoke melancholy. Alongside loneliness, the game pushes other emotions onto the player. Myst is one of the loneliest experiences in video games, and that’s part of its beauty. The landscapes and structures seem plagued by the ghosts of some catastrophe that caused the desertion.
Even better, the island of Myst and its outer realms have a singular atmosphere of haunted majesty. What little narrative exists implies a grand backstory with an air of surreal mystery that tantalizes the imagination. Although narrative cues are few and far between, a plot eventually emerges to those who apply a little imagination. What seemed to be a magical mystery as a child is still quite magical, although less a mystery than I once believed. That place is the deserted and abandoned island of Myst where, through your wandering, you must uncover clues to its creation and its past. This explorer is you, who stumbled upon a book with the power to transport the reader to the locale its pages describe. Somewhat like this review, Myst tells the story of two brothers and their father through the eyes of an impartial explorer. Despite its age, Myst is truly captivating. I was enchanted, and my eyes hardly wandered from the screen. The plot seems simpler now, and the puzzles less esoteric, but the haunting sense of wonder still kept me fascinated from beginning to end. What was over ten years in the making came to a close: I learned the secrets of Myst. Over a decade later, I beat Myst in about four hours, alone, without a single hint. Myst had secrets to tell, and I would be damned if I never learned them. With no omnipotent Internet at our sides, we spent weeks trying to decode the arcane mysteries of that island. I remember sitting in front of the television (we had the game for Sega Saturn), aiding my brother, who was at the helm, whenever and however I could, and my father stopping in to offer wild theories and potential leads. Myst imbued my childhood with a sense of haunting wonder that never wore off.
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