Seeking Serenity: ‘Animal Crossing’ an island of peace amid stormy seas

Editor’s Note: Reporter Patrick Kernan’s new occasional column looks at how he and other young adults are finding ways to stay grounded during this crisis (in addition to his writing stories for the Times Leader).

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I think the biggest thing that we’re all longing for right now is stability.

It’s hard to put into words how different the world feels right now; two months ago feels like a different world entirely, like a life I’ll no longer be able to go back to.

It’s one of the most difficult parts about living through a major historical moment. We’re all anxiously waiting for the moment we can definitively say we’re living in a post-coronavirus world. But we’re not there yet.

So, until then, I, like many of my colleagues, am grasping at straws to try to make my life feel normal again. Most of us have leaned into our various hobbies and interests when we’re not on the clock, with some finding weird things on Netflix — I’m sure you’ve seen memes about tigers and some woman named Carole Baskin — while others have taken an opportunity to expand their cooking repertoire.

Meanwhile, I’ve buried myself in crippling debt to an anthropomorphic raccoon.

If you’ve been on the internet at all over the past few weeks, in between all the posts about “Tiger King,” you’ve almost undoubtedly seen “The Kids” talking about a video game called “Animal Crossing: New Horizons.”

Released on March 20 for the Nintendo Switch, “Animal Crossing: New Horizons” is the fifth mainline release in Nintendo’s long-running life simulation game, and for me and many other people in my age group — I’m 25, by the way — it’s been a welcome respite from the horrors of daily life.

You, the player, are the only human on island occupied entirely by animals. Upon arriving on the island, you are greeted by Tom Nook, the raccoon I mentioned earlier.

(And, yes, if you’ve played this game, I know you’re about to email me and say that Tom Nook is not a raccoon, but rather a tanuki, a type of wild dog native to Japan that looks a great deal like a raccoon. I’m sure you feel very smart for typing up that email.)

Nook, in an astounding act of generosity, just gives you a house, complete with a zero-interest home loan that can be paid off in any amount of time that the player desires. To make money, you wander around your island, catching bugs and fish and digging up fossils, selling them off to Nook’s sons, Timmy and Tommy, and then giving the money they give you back to Nook.

Along the way, you’ll unlock the ability to decorate your island as you see fit, move in other cute animal villagers and expand your house as you pay off numerous, increasingly expensive loans. Shops open up on your island, allowing you to buy new outfits for your in-game avatar, and you spend a lot of your day just walking around, talking to people on your island and hearing what everyone has to say.

And that’s… kind of it? It’s difficult to explain what, exactly, about the “Animal Crossing” series makes it, in any way, fun. But millions of adoring fans the world over love this series, and they were anxiously awaiting the coming of the newest game for months, even before the world came falling down around us.

To me, it’s easy to understand the allure of “Animal Crossing: New Horizons,” especially in a moment like this. Unlike most games — and, indeed, real life — there’s no real way to lose the game. You can’t die in game, you can’t get evicted from your cute little house. The only real way to lose is to simply stop playing.

Instead, the player is faced with increasingly time-consuming goals to meet, but the goals are always achievable. You might need to make 100,000 of the game’s currency in order to proceed, but this is always possible. It allows the player, for however briefly, to feel some sort of control over their world — and, in this economy, it allows millennials like myself to live out the fantasy of home-ownership.

And since the game’s passage of time is locked with the real world — if it’s noon outside, it’s noon on your island — when Nook says a building won’t be done being built until tomorrow, he for real means tomorrow. Holidays also occur, meaning special things happen in-game on Easter, Christmas and other holidays. It creates an addicting feedback loop, always encouraging the player to come back and see what’s changed.

It’s no wonder, then, that I’ve put nearly 70 hours of my life into this game that only came out about four weeks ago. While the United States and indeed the world is plunging headfirst into unimaginable chaos, I’ll always know that things on my tiny island are going to be okay.

And you can bet I’ll be signing on as soon as I clock out for the day.