“Swan song” is a term that refers to the final gesture or effort one makes before their end. While based on the mythic, possibly Greek, belief that swans sing a beautiful song just before their death after being otherwise mute, this term is a bit of a misnomer in that, as many folk would know, swans are very capable of making noises throughout their life. This makes ‘swan song’ a bit of a malapropism, even while its contemporary cultural potency, in how it captures something eloquent and final about the nature of death, has not yet dimmed.
Intentionally or not, Swan Song appears subconsciously aware of this inconsistency. While it might offer a perhaps too on-the-nose literal swan song as part of its story, it also intermittently recognises the many efforts we make across our lives and the impacts they leave behind. This might be the music we create throughout our lives, or the minor moments of affection and passion we show to loved ones that carry on. Swan Song may not place every note just right, but there remains a sweet, reflective charm to this music box of a game in how all its pieces thematically, narratively and mechanically fit together in a way that explores how we puzzle about death.
Swan Song is a narrative puzzle game developed and published by Business Goose Studios (Sizeable, 30birds). Set in a magical music box, Swan Song tells the story of a family dealing with the fallout of terminal illness, death, and grief through various recordings and items found within it. To progress, players must solve puzzles by composing short melodies on a small four-by-four piece of sheet music that corresponds with identically coloured pieces in the music box itself. Players must determine the right order and location of notes to safely guide the swan to their destination while avoiding obstacles.
Swan Song is that lovely type of indie that is so specific in scope and ambition that all its parts slot neatly together (not unlike a well-made music box). Its narrative vision, puzzle design and presentation all interweave together into a videogame structure that is rarer than people recognise, particularly amidst the inherent incoherency and perpetual scope creep of blockbuster gamemaking. It’s a story about grief and holding onto a loved one who was a musician and left a final piece of music (a very unsubtle ‘swan song’), and you compose music within a music box created to memorialise her while her own plays in the background to guide a swan token forward to uncover parts of the story. The swan motifs may be a little heavy-handed (or a lot, depending on your tolerance for unsubtle metaphor), but it remains neat and charming, and speaks to the benefits of keeping games specific in their scope and ideas.
