When have you tried to engage with a game (or a book, a movie, an album, a cheese sandwich) and later realized, after failing to appreciate it, that the occasion of your interacting with it was not timed correctly? I think this is a different feeling from hating something outright: you can sense traces of sweet nectar trapped inside the thing, but know you don’t have the instruments to get at it in the moment. These instruments take months or years or some kind of spiritual sea-change to procure.
An example for me is Tetris. Not because of anything unique to Tetris as a falling-block game, but because for a long time—to put a number on it, 95% of my tenure as a game player—I didn’t get the appeal of competing against myself for a high score. Recently some friends and I began competing for best times in Minesweeper, and I got really into it. At some point I realized the penny had dropped vis-à-vis the concept of high scores. Moving on from Minesweeper I gave Tetris DS a try, and that was that. All the times I had previously tried to play Tetris came rushing back as I wondered, How could I not have always enjoyed this?
I suspect I’m about to have a similar experience with SMT Strange Journey, though if I were to consider all the stuff I didn’t get just because I tried it when I was in high school I’d really be here awhile…
When were you able to sit down with one of these things again for another try? Why did you feel it the second time and not the first? Is there something which recently rubbed you wrong which might fare better in the future?