The dystopian farming simulator you never knew you needed: Where the Goats Are, a quiet delight
Where the Goats Are is a free to download story-led game released in 2017 by solo indie developer Memory of God. I remember being left with a long list of questions and feeling of confused wonder once I finished it, so recently decided to replay this curious game to see if it was still as enigmatic and to check in with Grandma Tikvah at her farm, looking after her goats while the world is ending.
Throughout this unconventional game, you follow Grandma Tikvah as she tends to her animals and a solitary plant. She strolls out of her cottage every day into her dinky smallholding and proceeds to do whatever she likes, whether that be milking the goats, collecting eggs, or making cheese. I particularly enjoyed relaxing with the delightful music box in the corner and creating intricate patterns in the soil with a handy pointed stick. A local travelling salesman provides us with letters from friends and family in the big city, and here is where a different tone begins to sidle through the front gate. Having been driven away from the countryside by some unspecified disastrous event, they detail a new way of life in the strange environs of a teeming, industrialised metropolis.
There is no speech, just haunting melodies and slight noises of contentment or surprise. Chickens cluck, goats make. . . whatever sound goats make (yell?), Tikvah huffs, whistles, hums and exclaims in delight. She is also very no-nonsense and will unceremoniously shove haystacks out of the way to get to where she needs to be. She lives in total isolation with her only form of contact with outside world through the trusty deliveries of the salesman and the variously upbeat, disjointed, questioning and lonely comments from people she cannot see (does this sound familiar?).
As time goes on, you may start to notice a slowly building sense of unease due to the eerie goings-on. Where are those weird noises coming from? Colours change from clear and bright to muted, autumnal shades as you suddenly realise your chickens have vanished. If you stay out after dark instead of retiring to bed, beware the ghostly (goats-ly?) shapes paying you a night-time visit! The letters evolve too, reflecting the turmoil of the outside world, as the authors gradually become unsettled and begin to raise questions about the city’s handling of the previously mentioned disastrous event. The tension is palpable.
Of course, all good apocalyptic farmyard tales must come to an end, with this one coming to a solemn stop just under an hour after first welcoming you through the gate. This slight story is no less poignant for its shortness, and in fact provides a very meaningful experience despite coming in a bit less than a lunch break in length. I would very much recommend this lovely but plaintive game to anyone. I believe the developer has created a follow-up rumination on life and loss called The Stillness of the Wind, which I hope to have a look at soon.