The simulation game genre is often a mix of experiences, unlike any other. True, every genre can boast a wide range of quality, but this is particularly evident with sims. Over the years, I’ve had the pleasure of enjoying some outstanding simulators. Conversely, I’ve also experienced some absolute letdowns that hide under the sim label, thinking it’ll exempt them from harsher critiques. Some of my most scathing reviews stem from this genre. Today, we’re diving into LIBRITOPIA: Librarian Simulator on PC, a game that, while possessing certain charming aspects, leaves quite a bit on the table. Before you accuse me of being overly critical, it’s crucial to remind everyone that this game is still in Early Access, so bear in mind this is a snapshot of its current form, not its eventual completion.
In LIBRITOPIA, you take on the role of a librarian, tasked with building and running your own library. That idea in itself is quite appealing. Libraries are treasured havens—sanctuaries of knowledge and solace for book lovers seeking to retreat from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. They’re rich educational realms for curious minds or simply a place to meander when you crave an escape. With this in mind, I approached the game expecting whimsy—a leisurely, yet addictive experience. However, instead of a calm exploration, I found myself thrust into an unexpectedly fast-paced challenge, a stark contrast to my expectations.
As you immerse yourself in LIBRITOPIA, the primary goal is to cater to your patrons’ needs while minimizing complaints. If a customer isn’t satisfied with your selection, they’ll leave in a huff. Too many dissatisfied folks in a day, and it’s curtains for your game session. I would have embraced this more warmly as a dash game. Trimming down a sim title to a simplified game of speed and efficiency effectively strips out the depth and detail that typically define good simulations. By equating a librarian’s role with pressure and stress, albeit accurately in some aspects, it skews the kind of experience players might actually want.
At the start of each day, you’re given the option to acquire new items for your library and collect returned books from the previous evening. Interestingly, your day begins at the computer (oddly enough), and soon enough, a steady stream of eager readers awaits their literary fix. So far, we’re in familiar territory—nothing here screams for criticism about the basic premise.
However, despite their assumed literary prowess, your customers appear as if they’ve never browsed a shelf before. Faced initially with just a dozen books, patrons peruse the modest collection only to request titles staring them right in the face. This behavior is somewhat understandable in a vast library, but when everything you own is neatly visible on a couple of shelves, it’s baffling. And although the viewing mechanics adjust as you progress, potentially adding depth, it seems to introduce unintentional complexity.
When you acquire more shelves, books are then stored spine outwards, hiding covers from view. Thus, when patrons request specific authors or genres, you find yourself torn between recalling all your stock offhand or painstakingly searching each request at the desk. It’s clever but burns valuable time, and if you’re not swift, those patrons will walk away, edging closer to game over. Labeling the shelves offers some respite, but incremental organization feels more like a time drain than a convenience.
LIBRITOPIA’s library sections include distinct zones—separate check-in and check-out areas, each with its own computer system for some odd reason. This division feels clunky from the start, slowing down processes unnecessarily. A wiser approach might unify these systems to streamline user flow—sure, automated desks unlock later, but initial interaction should be smoother.
Checking books out involves a slightly cumbersome process of moving between the computer and checkout, one patron at a time. Without a real-time window displaying what I’m looking for, I’m left making mental checks, which is tedious with several waiting patrons. Additionally, the check-in mini-game lacks fluidity, relying on a match-and-click interface that slows down efficiency rather than boosting it.
In a nutshell, LIBRITOPIA boils down to a repetitive rhythm of lending and retrieving books—about as simple as it gets. But the manner of execution bogs down that simplicity, often overcomplicating a straightforward task. From the very start, patrons will occasionally seek books you’ve yet to discover, unwittingly stealing away your chances in the game—a bit of frustration that feels unnecessary when patrons double as game lives.
Visually, LIBRITOPIA harks back to an older era, with basic graphics that aren’t going to win any beauty contests. Sound also leaves much to be desired, with odd mismatches, like male voices oddly assigned to female patrons. Controls function as anticipated, maintaining coherence, but the aesthetic side is rudimentary at best.
For enthusiasts of dash-type games, LIBRITOPIA does have potential fun tucked away. It won’t attain ‘game of the year’ accolades, but there are intriguing mechanics in play. The challenge is undeniably there, potentially lending well to replayability. Yet, to truly categorize it as a sim is misleading. We’re simulating library management, but its execution veers away from conventional sim dynamics. For now, LIBRITOPIA floats within mediocrity, but it’s essential to remember it’s still under development.
The ever-evolving nature of Early Access ensures updates and improvements, with developers actively refining the game. While it’s not going to break the bank, checking LIBRITOPIA out won’t damage your wallet, either, if you’re curious.
This review is based on an Early Access version provided by the publisher.
