Strangeland Now Available in German and Turkish

Strangeland

You wake in a surreal carnival, where a woman cries out to you before leaping to her death. Can either of you be saved? The denizens and devices of Strangeland answer with riddles, puzzles, and warnings of a Dark Thing lurking at the park’s peak. A new adventure from the creators of Primordia.

[img]{STEAM_CLAN_IMAGE}/38514961/498b935d20bce9dd2e1da4f8f42f759b1ee4efbc.png[/img] We are honored and delighted to release a new build of [i]Strangeland[/i] with full German and Turkish text throughout. This represents a monumental achievement by volunteers who have both the skill of translation and the broad knowledge needed to capture the game’s many references and allusions. We are immensely grateful to Yerel Çeviri for the Turkish translation and Jonas for the German translation. I would also like to include a short acknowledgment of what these translations mean to me personally, as well as to James Spanos, our coder. [i]Strangeland[/i] owes a great debt to German culture, not only in its direct references to Wagner’s [i]Ring Cycle[/i] and German-Norse mythology generally but also from the spiritual and intellectual impact on me from various works of literature written in German: Schiller’s [i]Don Carlos[/i], Mann’s [i]The Magic Mountain[/i], and Kafka’s entire corpus. The themes of humanism and alienation that run through these works helped shape the philosophical backbone of both [i]Strangeland[/i] and [i]Primordia[/i]. In my growing up, the wounds of World War II were still raw enough in my parents’ and grandparents’ lives that German works were something of a taboo in my family, and I am grateful to have seen those wounds heal enough that my children and I enjoy the free flow of culture back and forth with Germany. As for Turkish, I can only say that few countries have taken hold of my soul as Turkey did during the short stay there I had with my wife, many years ago. [i]Strangeland[/i] is a palimpsest of meaning on top of meaning, and nowhere has that ever seemed so physically embodied to me as Istanbul: a city rich with life and deep with many cultures. We were welcomed into Turkey with universal hospitality, in every town and city we visited. I close my eyes, and I’m transported back to that magical time. And, of course, no country welcomed our first game, [i]Primordia[/i], with quite such hospitality either: I don’t know how or why, but the game received two glowing reviews in Turkish print magazines and many more online. The Turkish translation also means much to James, the Greek member of our trio. After [i]Primordia[/i] was released, James had to serve his mandatory term in the Greek army. But James—like [i]Primordia[/i]’s Horatio—is a warrior for peace and friendship, and making this translation succeed was a must for him. I go on about this because we are obviously in a moment of crisis in the world. Even though our games have a lot to say, we have never tried to make them about “the moment.” That is because in [i]every[/i] moment, each of us must struggle to put love before hate, hope before despair, wisdom before folly, and grace before bitterness. In the end, we are small, fragile beings in an ever smaller, ever more fragile world. That world is surrounded by immense darkness and lifelessness, and the work of living is to see the light in each other, so that we do not turn this beautiful miracle of humanity and earth back into void and chaos. These two translations are a gift to us at Wormwood Studios from generous, volunteer translators. We hope that they are also a gift to many players, so that our little game may provide a little light to others. You have provided much light for us.