The growing trend away from puzzle-based IF toward--well, toward non-puzzle-based IF, which has taken a variety of forms--has meant that an author's ability to convey a scene has become more important. IF fans have always put a premium on good writing, of course, but in the era of puzzle IF the point was generally to set the scene and get out of the way; the writing in many canonical IF games--Zork I and Planetfall, for instance--was distinctly on the terse side. Now, when simulation is more prized, writing that does more than convey the basic relevant information is needed, and Kathleen Fischer's The Cove, an example of IF whose setting is the raison d'etre rather than an excuse for some puzzles, nicely illustrates the importance of effective writing.

The Cove won Best Landscape in Marnie Parker's Art Show in the spring of 2000, and the landscape really does take center stage: there are only a few locations, but all of them are packed with things to experience. In fact, your score increases not with problems solved, but with things seen (or heard, or smelled, or felt), though exactly which ones give you a point and which don't feels rather arbitrary. Interestingly, much of the interaction is purely sensory--there aren't many objects to manipulate, and you can't really affect your surroundings much, though you can certainly be affected by them. The scene itself--a seaside cliff, a beach, a cave--is familiar, but there are enough unexpected elements--a sea lion, an otter, tidal pools--to make it feel fresh, and the game oozes attention to detail. An example: 

Long ribbons of seaweed strewn across the shore mark the leading edge of the
surf at a quarter of the way up the beach. Additional clumps, dried and full
of sand, lie tangled amongst the rocks at the base of the cliffs -- a warning
of the sea's intentions.

>examine clumps
Ripped from their holdfasts during heavy seas, the long strands of seaweed
are pushed along by wind and tides until they are at last flung up upon the
shore. There they form tangled mophead heaps, a haven for the small flies, crabs,
and the like who feed upon the decaying fronds.
Seaweed you might expect in a beach scene, but not every game would think to point out what sorts of things eat the seaweed. (Okay, flies don't really eat the seaweed as such, but that's a minor detail.) Likewise, the note that the placement of the seaweed indicates the high-water mark is an effective detail, even if the "warning" is a touch more obvious than it needs to be. Again, it's not the sort of thing that rewards extensive poking and prodding--there's nothing you can actually do with the seaweed. The point is to appreciate the details and recreate the scene in your imagination, and the game does a good job of giving your imagination plenty to work with.

The writing, likewise, is quite good. There are some misspellings and mechanical errors that prove a little distracting--arguably more so than in your average game, because the descriptions aren't here to be skimmed, as they sometimes are. But there are also lots of effective and well-placed images--the "tangled mophead heaps" of seaweed above are one example, as is this: "A long legged plover chases after the waves, pecking at the sand as it goes." The scene is littered with small but vivid details--the cliffs are described as "fractured granite," for instance--and the author takes care to use verbs rather than adjectives whenever possible, usually a sign of better-than-average writing. (Example: "The leading edge of the storm clouds reaches the cove, blotting out the sun.") The verbs are often passive, muting their effectiveness somewhat, but it's a minor sin.

Unfortunately, the landscape isn't the only thing here; there's a plot of sorts involving a dead lover and a pressured marriage and such that owes much to cliché and adds very little to the game. One of the verbs that you're encouraged to use is REMEMBER, which tells you the emotional significance of this location or that sensation in rather, well, heavy-handed ways. It's not a great choice, on the whole, simply because it's not easy to identify with someone else and take on her memories when you've only been in that character's shoes for a few minutes--and the game is short enough that you can't really put in any more time than that. It's not impossible, of course, that the landscape element of the game would be enriched by a story that goes with it, but the nature of this particular story, and the clichés underlying it, make it difficult for it to work as planned. Part of the problem is that the author's skills appear to lie more in sensory description than in conveying your emotions--at least, the former is more effective; perhaps, had the author given us an actual flashback that would permit us to experience the relevant past events for ourselves, we would feel them a little more keenly. As it is, when the focus turns from the present to the past, the player tends to feel a bit shut out. It's for this reason that the ending of The Cove--which has more to do with the plot than with the landscape-isn't quite as involving as what's come before. It says something about the current state of IF, I suppose, that the author felt compelled to add the plot elements rather than merely providing a landscape to explore-there's not really much precedent for IF that's both plotless and puzzleless. But there's no inherent reason, to my mind, why such a thing can't work.

At any rate, The Cove does demonstrate the potential of "art show" IF--the landscape aspect makes for an absorbing IF experience, well worth the download. That the story doesn't add much illustrates, in a backhanded way, the potential of the form.