Well, I'm still plugging away at On the Rail-Slick Precipice of Darkness: Episode 1, but I hope to have it finished by the next time I post (which won't be next Saturday, by the way, I'll be out of town and away from the Internet from Wednesday until Sunday night). I think that I'll take this opportunity to discuss why I look at games from the particular perspective that I do.
That perspective, first of all, is that of a literary critic. If you haven't noticed by now that I look at games as one might look at a movie or even a book, then I have failed or you are very dumb (I'm sure, gentle reader, that it would have to be the former rather than the latter). In any case, I attempt to look at a game as another means of telling a story, one for which there is still some vast, untapped potential.
There is a term in literary theory called reader involvement. This is a relative term describing how deeply a reader involved or wrapped in the story and characters of a work. This is important because according to literary theory, books have a much higher potential for reader involvement than movies have for viewer involvement. This is because movies and television are passive mediums in that the viewer sits back, relaxes and allows all the images and sounds to be fed to him/her. Books, on the other hand, require the reader to... well... read. Reading, by it's nature, is active. The reader must follow the symbols on the page, interpret them into words and complete thoughts and then form not just the visual and auditory image, but the olfactory, tactile, and gustatory. While much of this is done subconsciously, it still requires active participation by the reader and forces him or her to be more involved in the plot and characters than something strictly viewed or heard.
This is where video-games come in: while the images portrayed in games are still only audio and visual (and in a very small way, tactile if you count the rumble features on most controllers, which I don't), and therefore do not offer the same kind of immersion as written literature, The fact that video-games are played, and not just watched adds much potential to the art (yes, art) than to movies. Note here, that I say potential because I find myself digging much deeper into an episode of Firefly than I do into Eragon (It's great the Paolini wrote it when he was seventeen, but it looks like a novel written by a seventeen-year-old. Imagine that). There are more factors in literature and participant immersion than just the potential. The characters in Firefly are much more real and interesting than those found in Eragon and the writing is more interesting, therefore, the viewer of the former will care not just about finding out what happens next in the story, but also what happens to the characters and how they will grow and change. This also means that tension can be more easily established, and when one of those characters is in danger, or arguing with another character, or doing just about anything, really, it draws the viewer in and makes them (keyword:) immersed in the action.
What all this long-winded rambling boils down to is this: I believe that with proper writing, a video-game can be just as, or even more artistic, and enjoyable as a story than any movie or television show because the player, as the initiator of the action of the story, has no choice but to be involved.
I believe that there is much more to be said on the subject, but I'll leave it at that for the moment. In the future, when I don't have a game to talk about, I might just delve into more on this topic and leave you, gentle reader, to come up for a breath.
Now go immerse yourself in a game,
-Zac
Saturday, November 22, 2008
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