Visual novels are oftentimes a great way for video game developers to tell a cohesive story without having to worry about different methods of gameplay and presentation. Choices matter, but the player’s avatar doesn’t have to run around, solve puzzles, or shoot up bad guys. They just have to click the answer that resonates with them the most. It is a comforting type of video game that doesn’t require too much effort for the player.
Although the idea of deconstructing the visual novel is not exactly new, the concept hit the mainstream in 2017 with Doki Doki Literature Club. What was seemingly a run-of-the-mill romance game about getting close to the girl of your choice slowly increases in intensity before its claws come out in the middle of your game. It was this misdirection that has given the game an intense cult following, culminating in the upcoming expansion Doki Doki Literature Club Plus.
There is a lot that can be interpreted from the events of DDLC, especially how it portrayed the effects of mental illness. While the game had some detractors and even almost caused a new moral panic in the U.K., it ultimately received praise for its more realistic depiction of mental health and how it can affect anyone, even the ones you least suspect. However, it also carries a more subtle yet still impactful message that has impacted both Japanese and Western visual novels for years.
But first, a little anecdote. When I was growing up, I was a quintessential Asian kid. I had bad bangs, huge eyes, and cheeks the size of apples. This has changed as I’ve grown up and into my features, but the slightest of characteristics apparently gave me a mystical look that always made me feel insecure. When I was starting to actually understand the world, I would get comments from both classmates and adults alike that I looked like a cute anime girl. It always made me feel weird, but I couldn’t put words to it. It turns out that I wasn’t alone in feeling this weirdness. In fact, it’s a sadly recurring experience among young girls and women of Asian descent. While being noticeably half-white avoided the more cruel comparisons, I eventually realized that I had experienced fetishization my entire life based on simply my ethnicity.
I am not the first person to talk about my experiences with fetishization, nor will I be the last. In a Teen Vogue interview about the dating realities of East Asian women, one subject referred to “whole internet communities of men fetishizing anime representation of girls” that reflect what they see in media, such as visual novels, into the real world. No matter how much people try to separate fiction from reality, it is clear that the way Asian girls are depicted in media has an impact.
What does this have to do with Doki Doki Literature Club? Quite a bit, actually. The player takes on the persona of a high school boy who ends up getting closer to one of the girls in the literature club he is almost forced into joining. Each girl has their own distinct characteristics, but the ultimate objective is simple: Make one of these students fall in love with you. Through creepily stereotypical dialogue about how cute or timid these characters are, the player almost ends up achieving this until one disturbing event completely changes the game.
Spoilers Ahead
The player knows that Sayori, the stereotypically cute childhood friend, was struggling. One of the game's most poignant scenes comes from a conversation you have with her regarding her depression. With how this subplot is seemingly resolved with the player's character vowing to never leave her behind, they are led to believe that your love will solve all of her problems. After all, isn't that what happens in every other visual novel that talks about mental illnesses? Aren't young girls supposed to be directionless and depressed until the perfect male character comes in and saves them?
However, despite these attempts at saving her, Sayori still dies. Then the game completely restarts.
From here on out, the player has to admit that they have no control over DDLC. It resets itself, adds files into your library that disappear mysteriously, and above all, forces the player to look inside of themselves. Nowhere is this more apparent than in Act 3, where the fully-sentient Monika uses your Steam or PC settings to reveal that she knows exactly who the player is. She feels slightly hurt that you put on the facade of a high school boy, but it ultimately doesn’t matter to her. After all, she’s got you all to herself now. The only way to leave the virtual limbo you’ve found yourself in is to delete files in your hard drive. You could also just close the game, too, but what’s the fun in that?
If you do decide to stick with Monika, she talks about a few topics that she has thought about recently. One is of particular note:
“By the way, there’s something that’s been bothering me. You know how this takes place in Japan? Well...I assume you knew that, right? Or at least decided it probably does? I don't think you're actually told at any point where this takes place... is this even really Japan? I mean, aren't the classrooms and stuff kind of weird for a Japanese school? Not to mention everything is in English...it feels like everything is just there because it needs to be, and the actual setting is an afterthought. It's kind of giving me an identity crisis.”
This holds some significant truth within the game. It is never explicitly stated that DDLC takes place in Japan. The player just assumes this based on the overly cutesy designs of the girls and their distinctly Japanese names. Because of the fact that many popular slice-of-life visual novels have this same objective and are distinctly Japanese in aesthetic, you as the player have become complacent enough to simply accept that, sure, this is in Japan. It doesn’t even register to you that it could take place anywhere else in the world.
This complacency is what DDLC toys with the most. It demonstrates how ingrained the sexualization of Asian girls is within the otaku and gaming communities. The more normalized it is within these communities, the more likely they are to affect real-life Asian women like myself. We are no longer seen as regular human beings but as tsunderes or yanderes that throw themselves at any man who shows us affection. What DDLC does is take this to a whole other level by heightening the characteristics of the girls we are supposed to be falling for. The bookworm Yuri was more nervous and kind before she became a possessive lover. The freshman Natsuki is stubbornly closed off until she lashes out at the player for even looking at her. Because these characteristics are heightened by Monika in the game, what is supposed to be appealing to the player becomes monstrous and disturbing.
Monika’s purpose with adjusting the characters in the second act of the game is to make them as undesirable as possible so that she can have the player all to herself. This brings up an important question: If you, as the player, are so hellbent on making one of these tropey characters fall in love with you, why are you pushing back against their love so much? Isn’t this controlling or hellbent nature desirable to you? If not, then your past history of playing less-thoughtful games or lusting over your waifu certainly says otherwise. DDLC knows exactly what it is doing with how they manipulate the dream underage anime girl against you. It subtly shames the (usually adult) player for acting upon their desires that no women in their real lives would want to indulge in.
You might be wondering if this is something I’m purposefully twisting to get a rise out of otakus who continue to fantasize about the game’s leads. However, this isn’t too far off from what developer Dan Salvato has said about his inspiration for making DDLC. In a Kotaku interview with Gita Jackson, he mentioned how he has a “love/hate relationship” with anime due to the tropes frequently given to young girls. The tropes he alluded to involves how cute and innocent these characters are, something the subjects in the previously mentioned Teen Vogue article kept referring to.
I, and many other Asian women I've met over the years, have been fetishized to the point where it has become uncomfortably normal. What makes all of this worse is the fact that this fetishizing behavior is encouraged in so many types of media. Even though Doki Doki Literature Club is not entirely about condemning Asian fetishization, the topic does serve an important role in how the player experiences the game. Here's hoping other visual novels, psychological horror or not, follow suit.
