Blue Prince is one of the greatest games of the moment, and the roguelike puzzler has encouraged a lot of discussion about the best possible way to make sense of its confounding nature. Considering the ever-changing halls of its setting, I understand how one could come to their own conclusion on how to best resolve its countless mysteries. I happen to have my own method, and it's been working wonders for me. You see, I've been treating Blue Prince less and less like a roguelike, where you are expected to cycle through runs ad nauseam, and more like the daily crosswords that often fill my days. Though the two might seem quite distant, I'd argue there are more than enough similarities to warrant the parallels, and so far, the approach seems to be a real winner.
Let me first set the stage, though. Blue Prince, which tasks players with exploring the constantly shifting rooms of a manor in search of a hidden 46th one, has quickly become the game du jour since it was released earlier this year and for good reason: It's an utterly enthralling experience with layers upon layers of mysteries to unspool. And since it has ensnared just about everyone I've seen pick it up--in both positive and negative ways--I have been drowning in well-reasoned criticisms of its mechanics as well as rapturous acclaim over its novelty. I've similarly bumped up against some frustrating walls that I found particularly hard to break through, but the thing that has really changed how I play Blue Prince, and simultaneously increased my enjoyment of it, was this much-needed shift in perspective that has been incredibly illuminating.
I promise you, Blue Prince has not in fact rotted my brain. I do have a case here, even if it may sound like gibberish externalized outside of my head for the first time. First and foremost, I've found that some of the folks who have bristled against Blue Prince (a perfectly fine reaction, not everything is for everyone!) have seemed to try and brute force their way through the game. Alternatively, I've been taking it at what can only be described as a near-glacial pace. I get on the game and do a handful of runs--maybe two or three at a time--that prioritize room discovery and pushing forward on a single thread until there's some turn or new discovery that further cracks the game's facade. Sometimes it's as simple as a new note to turn over in the quietest moments of my day, and sometimes it's making a perspective-shifting find that melts my brain.
Personally, this methodology lets me jot down notes and be more deliberate about where I focus my dwindling brain power (I'm so tired, guys) and avoid being overwhelmed by the sheer scope of Blue Prince and ultimately being turned off by it. I know people whose playthroughs are trending towards a hundred hours if they aren't already north of that, and the community is jointly trying to solve some of its meta puzzles not unlike last year's mystery-laden platformer Animal Well. Consider this approach my attempt at protecting my own peace and secondarily prolonging my satisfaction with Blue Prince so that I don't sour on it before it gets too good.
Blue Prince's magnifying glass
However there's more to this comparison than just my peace of mind, and I'd seriously note the similarities between the two if you're still doubtful. Both Blue Prince and a crossword take place on a grid. The former may present itself as a first-person puzzle game, but this feels like the first of Blue Prince's many tricks it revels in playing on the player. Open up the in-game map and you are treated not to a revelatory illustration or document, but an empty grid, not unlike a crossword. Not to give too much away, but it's also probably best thought of as that when pursuing some of Blue Prince's later and more enigmatic threads.
Moreover, despite the rigidity of the grid, the exact contents of the puzzles are constantly shifting. At the start of each run in Blue Prince, the manor effectively resets, and it's on the player to draft the next room from a randomly picked "hand" of cards. Every day, the crossword sometimes has different dimensions (especially when drawing a distinction between the weekday and weekends), features new blanks, and the shape of these blanks and white spaces could form an intriguing shape meant to clue players into a unifying theme. Both leverage visual motifs and more explicitly laid breadcrumbs to trick the player into accidentally solving a larger puzzle by picking away at smaller ones nested within the former.
To that end, clues in an especially devious crossword will often be in concert with one another. Like inside jokes, you don't entirely get one without the others, but cracking even one seems to suddenly give you the language or cipher to piece together another. Blue Prince functions in a pretty similar way, leading the player by the hand to disparate elements, like rooms with mechanics that don't initially present as things that interact with one another or tools that might not logically function the way you think they would. Though it may initially confound, Blue Prince asks you to put these components together to unlock the next step in the grander scheme of things. "How do I ensure I get x tool to find y clue in z room reliably when the placement of each of these elements is randomly generated?"
I don't know, maybe by taking the exact thing I'm describing--the combination of tools and mechanics in sometimes esoteric ways--and considering the bigger picture to manipulate the game in your favor. There are coat checks everywhere for those with eyes to see. And when you hit that serendipitous "aha" moment where the puzzles, both big and small, click into place, the satisfaction of that sequence tugs the player ever deeper into the tide, whether that be into another of Blue Prince's layers or just another sophistically crafted crossword.
My appreciation of the daily crossword, a thing that I do damn near all the time thanks to brilliant games like Puzzmo, almost appears to have trained me for a title like Blue Prince, which seems delighted to play with and remix some of its tenets into something both new and vaguely familiar. Thewholething is a puzzle. Its construction, its contents, and the logic behind their placements. They're so uncannily similar I'd be surprised if the game didn't take some kind of inspiration from the renowned and timeless classic. And maybe along the way, Blue Prince picked up a thing or two that'll turn it into a classic in its own right in due time. For now though, I'm really relishing taking it a thread and a handful of days at a time, and am feeling all the better for it.
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Let me first set the stage, though. Blue Prince, which tasks players with exploring the constantly shifting rooms of a manor in search of a hidden 46th one, has quickly become the game du jour since it was released earlier this year and for good reason: It's an utterly enthralling experience with layers upon layers of mysteries to unspool. And since it has ensnared just about everyone I've seen pick it up--in both positive and negative ways--I have been drowning in well-reasoned criticisms of its mechanics as well as rapturous acclaim over its novelty. I've similarly bumped up against some frustrating walls that I found particularly hard to break through, but the thing that has really changed how I play Blue Prince, and simultaneously increased my enjoyment of it, was this much-needed shift in perspective that has been incredibly illuminating.
I promise you, Blue Prince has not in fact rotted my brain. I do have a case here, even if it may sound like gibberish externalized outside of my head for the first time. First and foremost, I've found that some of the folks who have bristled against Blue Prince (a perfectly fine reaction, not everything is for everyone!) have seemed to try and brute force their way through the game. Alternatively, I've been taking it at what can only be described as a near-glacial pace. I get on the game and do a handful of runs--maybe two or three at a time--that prioritize room discovery and pushing forward on a single thread until there's some turn or new discovery that further cracks the game's facade. Sometimes it's as simple as a new note to turn over in the quietest moments of my day, and sometimes it's making a perspective-shifting find that melts my brain.
Personally, this methodology lets me jot down notes and be more deliberate about where I focus my dwindling brain power (I'm so tired, guys) and avoid being overwhelmed by the sheer scope of Blue Prince and ultimately being turned off by it. I know people whose playthroughs are trending towards a hundred hours if they aren't already north of that, and the community is jointly trying to solve some of its meta puzzles not unlike last year's mystery-laden platformer Animal Well. Consider this approach my attempt at protecting my own peace and secondarily prolonging my satisfaction with Blue Prince so that I don't sour on it before it gets too good.
Blue Prince's magnifying glass
However there's more to this comparison than just my peace of mind, and I'd seriously note the similarities between the two if you're still doubtful. Both Blue Prince and a crossword take place on a grid. The former may present itself as a first-person puzzle game, but this feels like the first of Blue Prince's many tricks it revels in playing on the player. Open up the in-game map and you are treated not to a revelatory illustration or document, but an empty grid, not unlike a crossword. Not to give too much away, but it's also probably best thought of as that when pursuing some of Blue Prince's later and more enigmatic threads.
Moreover, despite the rigidity of the grid, the exact contents of the puzzles are constantly shifting. At the start of each run in Blue Prince, the manor effectively resets, and it's on the player to draft the next room from a randomly picked "hand" of cards. Every day, the crossword sometimes has different dimensions (especially when drawing a distinction between the weekday and weekends), features new blanks, and the shape of these blanks and white spaces could form an intriguing shape meant to clue players into a unifying theme. Both leverage visual motifs and more explicitly laid breadcrumbs to trick the player into accidentally solving a larger puzzle by picking away at smaller ones nested within the former.
To that end, clues in an especially devious crossword will often be in concert with one another. Like inside jokes, you don't entirely get one without the others, but cracking even one seems to suddenly give you the language or cipher to piece together another. Blue Prince functions in a pretty similar way, leading the player by the hand to disparate elements, like rooms with mechanics that don't initially present as things that interact with one another or tools that might not logically function the way you think they would. Though it may initially confound, Blue Prince asks you to put these components together to unlock the next step in the grander scheme of things. "How do I ensure I get x tool to find y clue in z room reliably when the placement of each of these elements is randomly generated?"
I don't know, maybe by taking the exact thing I'm describing--the combination of tools and mechanics in sometimes esoteric ways--and considering the bigger picture to manipulate the game in your favor. There are coat checks everywhere for those with eyes to see. And when you hit that serendipitous "aha" moment where the puzzles, both big and small, click into place, the satisfaction of that sequence tugs the player ever deeper into the tide, whether that be into another of Blue Prince's layers or just another sophistically crafted crossword.
My appreciation of the daily crossword, a thing that I do damn near all the time thanks to brilliant games like Puzzmo, almost appears to have trained me for a title like Blue Prince, which seems delighted to play with and remix some of its tenets into something both new and vaguely familiar. Thewholething is a puzzle. Its construction, its contents, and the logic behind their placements. They're so uncannily similar I'd be surprised if the game didn't take some kind of inspiration from the renowned and timeless classic. And maybe along the way, Blue Prince picked up a thing or two that'll turn it into a classic in its own right in due time. For now though, I'm really relishing taking it a thread and a handful of days at a time, and am feeling all the better for it.
Source