
This time I can’t claim ignorance.
Having played the original Hollow Knight I knew what I was in for. Some piss-boiling boss fights, levels festooned with unforgiving environments – vindictively so, reminiscent of Trap Adventure – and irritating enemies, with hours of extremely rewarding exploration which steadily reveals a diverse world. All the while being carried along by an engaging quest.
While the original Hollow Knight did have its fair share of aerial maneuvering, The Path of Pain being one memorable example, Silksong makes ascending, while avoiding pratfalls and engaging enemies at the same time, the central characteristic of the narrative and gameplay.
My inability to consistently master the timed jumping mechanics has left me wallowing in self-pity. Is it time to accept that I’m no longer capable of such consistency? Have I become too obstinate to sequester the necessary concentration on the task at hand? Yes and yes, but my first reaction was spiteful. Essentially, while playing Silksong I become a disgusting boomer – conceited, belligerent and resentful at my younger self and all younger people for not being their age and having their reflexes. If I can’t have a clean run through Sinner’s Road, without falling in the maggot water or getting my health eroded by those fucking roach thingys, then fuck you. I’ll perpetually vote for neo-liberalist house price bubbles to make sure you can’t afford a mortgage. If you do manage to finagle one, the debt and interest will be so punitive that it makes you live on Tesco sausage rolls for forty years. No more avocado on chibatta toast and £5 Starbucks lattes for you!
Not content with making me contend with jumping to my death often, some sodding bosses are accompanied by a companion or companions. Normally it’s a little cockmonkey (figuratively, not literally), usually of the flying variety, who, with a smug orgasm, sneakily back shots you right at the moment while you’re attempting to retore your health or looking to focus on dealing with the main geezer. Halflight Spear of The Church from Dark Souls 3 and Elden Ring’s Godskin Duo are clearly inspirations for the Skarrgard and his sidekick, who I want to drop kick, in Hunter’s Marsh. I say this because everyone who plays Silksong will have likely played Dark Souls 3 and Elden Ring. All belong to the challenging labyrinth games genre, and I strongly suspect that the developers are using this ploy as a conduit for revenge from having suffered through the many ordeals Miyazaki created.
The inability to develop any degree of Silksong expertise, even with fifty hours played, has brought forth a dire realization. Yes, Silksong’s most demoralising aspect is not being mediocre at it, it’s placed me vis-à-vis with the contradictions of cognitive decay and my failure to grapple with them constructively. Unlike the physical decay, there’s a temporal contradiction with cognitive decline, which can cushion the blow and help construct a delusion that it isn’t so pronounced. The longer you live, the more knowledge you acquire, but what is eroded is the ability to retain as much new information. More attempts are required for my brain to instruct my muscles with the correct sequencing of controls on the gamepad, particularly at speed. And if there’s a gap between gaming sessions, on occasion this is severely compromised. Getting to the top section in Craw Lake took me an hour after a week of not playing. I simply couldn’t repeat the timing execution to bounce upwards using the inflatable balloons. This wasn’t helped by those bastard bird enemies hounding me.
Rage quitting at any age is pitiful and is for losers, and a complete non-starter when in your mid-forties. I have bills to pay with no grift to pay them. Those compilations of twenty-something Twitch streamers performatively smashing up keyboards, monitors and throwing chairs is cringeworthy enough. Mostly, I worry for their sanity, because I’m here to tell them it’s only going to get more frustrating from here, unless they play easier games. Moments of ill-temper still come over me, but now it manifests in a pathetically weak sigh as I stare at my hands wondering how the sands of time have slipped through them.
I want to be more generous to my diminished self, and that my glacial gaming pace is me becoming more discerning in my old age. But it’s pure self-deception, a wanton delusion in the self-help hype that you’re inclined to savour things with age. No, the reality is my eyes get strained after two hours of gaming and that feeds into an impatient gaming style. Instead of whittling a boss down methodically, I want to swipe away, fast and crude. I’m chasing a phantom, an impossible standard that my younger self would wipe out a third of the bosses within two or three attempts. Now it takes the exasperation of successive emphatic failures before tactics and builds are re-considered, and God forbid I should need to learn to master a skill move comprehensively. Aging in gaming terms simply means it takes more time to achieve less. You’re nagged by a constant cost analysis – how much do I want to invest in mastering this? Can I at this age?
I would’ve enjoyed this game significantly more twenty-five years ago without being dogged by all this nonsense. The copious boss fights, the moreish combat, the collectables and that the game’s zones have been impeccably curated and interconnected, with a gothic aesthetic that is very easy on the eye. It’s been enjoyable enough, and that’s to its credit, but at times it’s made me yearn for something more forgiving, such as Black Myth Wukong. That game managed to be great without making me face my reality – that as a gamer, I’m a waste of increasingly sagging human skin, with a rudimentary day job that some A.I. gadget may soon render obsolete, so I may be doing more gaming in the future.
This makes Hollow Knight Silksong a fitting update on Logan’s Run. It’s too good for boomers and has a degree of sophistication that is beyond this forty-something. And I say right on. If us has-beens are going to game, we deserve to suffer the consequences of pursuing a youthful endeavor.

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