« BoRT’cast – January 2009 | Home | Crafting a Fabula »
Who Holds the Talking Stick?
By Corvus | February 4, 2009
Justin posted a provocatively short post on Groping the Elephant last week. It’s short enough, I’m going to just repeat it here for you. The comments are worth reading, however, so head over and take a look.
- Literature is descriptive.
- Films are representative.
- Games are explorative.
That’s a fundamental difference.
I can see some issues with this statement, although I agree with its intent, but rather than dismiss it out of hand, I parsed it through my own ideas about storytelling as a communication between author and audience. It led to an interesting exploration…
Literature is a form of communication that is very focused on authoritative intent. While many authors may have an ideal reader in mind as they write, their process is heavily focused on their own need to express themselves. It is the themes they wish to explore, the plot they devised, the characters as they imagine them that drives the storytelling forward. [1] Eventually, an editor provides feedback and might shape the direction of the novel, but they ideally serve to help the author clarify their voice. Once the book is in the hands of the reader, they go through a process of trying to figure out what the author’s message is. Their own personal experience certainly colors their participation in the storytelling process, and defines the fabula they build, but gives them no real control over how it unfolds.
Literature is very focused on the first portion of storytelling–the author. And as everything you experience while reading a book is clearly the author attempting to communicate a reality internal to them, it can seem primarily descriptive.
In literature, the author clearly holds the talking stick.
Films are a much more collaborative medium. The end result is potentially shaped by the ideas of many people–a writer, director, cinematographer, producer, actors, set designers, costumers, composer, editor, and marketing hacks, to name a few. This places the emphasis squarely on the process of generating the narrative and, given the large budgets involved, is most often very focused on ensuring that resulting narrative appeals to the ideal audience member. To aid this process, members of the ideal audience are brought in as focus groups to provide feedback and, quite often, massive changes are made to the plots and themes of movies based upon what happens in these focus sessions. In the final analysis, however, the ultimate decision about the final narrative still lies with the source of the storytelling (whether that be the director, the producer, or the marketing department).
Because films are reflective of so many voices and ideas, and because they are more often reliant upon moving photography and/or visual effects, it is clear how they could be considered more representative than other media.
In film, the talking stick gets passed around a bit, but ultimately winds up back in the hands of a single authoritative entity.
Games could also be considered a collaborative medium. The difference, I’d suggest, is that games are even more focused on audience appeal than movies. And, not content to rely merely upon opinion, the industry has formalized a process by which the audience is on hand to play test the games during development. This allows them to tune the games to the players’ satisfaction, long before they are a finished product. In the video game industry, the process is becoming ever more reliant upon quantifiable data gathered by the likes of Orbus Gameworks and Valve. [2] Additionally, after a game’s release, patches containing new content and new mechanics can be made available to address the audience’s complaints about certain features.
Unlike the previous two mediums, once the game is in the audience’s hands–the narrative is entirely under audience control. Their skill level and their interest level completely dictate their game experience. And, also unlike the previous two mediums, the literacy level to comprehend processing the narrative is still a pretty high barrier to entry, requiring dexterity, the ability to visualize and navigate imaginary spaces, some measure of familiarity with game UIs, the concept of save points, etc. Additionally, many games provide multiple paths through the game, granting the player control over how they experience the authoritatively-provided plot as well. It is then up to the player to discern the ideal route, the ideal approach, to experiencing the narrative. This focus on audience involvement, on interactivity, certainly makes games seem more explorative than traditional media.
But therein lies another unique problem games face. The player is handed the talking stick for a large portion of the narrative, only to have it abruptly taken away upon occasion so that the “author” can communicate, and enforce, their own idea about the direction the narrative should be taking. This isn’t just a problem of linear narrative vs. emergent narrative either, but of the focus on game mechanics of enforcing a particular type of play. PLEASE NOTE–I’m not saying that’s a bad thing. Not every game can, or should, allow the player to play exactly how they like and never fail. I’m just saying that narratively, it’s a sticky wicket.
And that brings us to a comment Michael made in the discussion about his latest podcast:
But I’m not sure I’m willing to concede that non-emergent narrative is a somehow lesser form of storytelling.
On the face of that, I have to agree. Not only has, non-emergent narrative has been extraordinarily important to the development of human culture [3], but it would be ridiculous to state that an art form we’ve spent our entire history refining is somehow inferior to a relatively upstart approach to storytelling.
But the two are trying to achieve two very different things. Non-emergent narratives are trying to tell a story to the audience. Emergent narratives are trying to make storytellers out of the audience. My contention is that game mechanics themselves create emergent narrative, even if the designer didn’t specifically intend to provide a storytelling experience (Tetris). So video game narratives are particularly problematic because no one is really focusing on how their emergent narratives (gameplay) and linear narratives (what most developers think of as the only narrative) can work together.
And as long as this dichotomy exists, as long as the emergent and linear narratives are handled as two separate elements of a game’s design, it’s going to feel like two storytellers trying to shout over each other. Once the intentional integration of game mechanics and storytelling is satisfactorily addressed, we’ll be telling stories together–author and audience.
In many video games today, the author hands the talking stick to the player, only to jerk it back again when they don’t approve of how the player is progressing.
But video games represent an opportunity to equally share the talking stick and to help the audience tell more effective stories. And the continuation of that thought will be for another post.
[1] Obviously, this isn’t true of all written storytelling. Some of it is driven by marketing data and tradition–namely bodice rippers, many formulaic “men’s fictions” (westerns and spy novels), and teen series like the Horse Riding Babysitters’ House of Mystery series. [return]
[2] Whenever possible, give Darius top billing. He’s a good guy and wears bright orange t-shirts, which are a definable signature that are likely far easier to maintain than a bushy handlebar moustache. [return]
[3] Tune in later this week for my post, Why All Narratives are Emergent Narratives [return]
Tagged:Games, storytelling. | 23 Comments »
February 4th, 2009 at 8:46 am
It bothers me that you say the narrative of a game is under the audience’s control. That’s not true. The narrative is carefully designed by the developers for the audience, and no amount of branching paths or choices change that. Anytime the player does something the developer didn’t intend, the narrative fails.
I can write a choose your own adventure story with branching paths, but it still doesn’t transfer narrative control from author to reader, unless you consider one reading of the story a different experience than the next. As a whole, the narrative remains the same.
Emergent gameplay may be one way to offer the player true control, but if the player has to create a story for themselves I’m not sure what the difference is between an emergent game and a vague linear narrative. A reader can put the pieces together in whatever way they choose and create meaning, but that’s usually considered a poor narrative unless the author has subtle control of those pieces.
I understand the unique aspect of interactivity that games possess, but I don’t think the developer has any less control over the narrative than an author, it just becomes more difficult to maintain that control. Emergent gameplay suffers from vague narrative, and any attempt to strengthen the narrative is going to hurt the gameplay possibilities.
A game like LittleBigPlanet puts authorial control in the players’ hands, but it’s just a tool, like putting a pencil in a writer’s hand and giving him a stack of writing exercises, character ideas, and descriptions. If the developer has no influence over the player other than the tools presented, then the narrative is almost completed in the hands of the player, like the writer given a pencil.
Is Ernest Hemingway’s story, “For Sale: Baby Shoes. Never Worn.” emergent narrative because the reader has to fill in the gaps?
February 4th, 2009 at 9:01 am
Thanks as always for commenting, Travis!
You have to take into account what I mean when I say narrative. I use narrative to refer to the entire structure of the video game, not merely the linear progression of the plot. I think it’s foolish to separate the presentation of a game narrative (i.e. the gameplay) from your authoritative intent.
By choosing to express a communication within the medium of video games, the storyteller is intentionally providing the tools to control the unfolding of their narrative to the audience.
And I’m expressly suggesting that as of this time, the storyteller does have less control over the narrative in video games, because they aren’t properly utilizing the game mechanic portions of their narrative to support their thematic and plot intent. They may still control the plot, but in attempting to do so, or conversely by attempting to let go of that control, they are creating the problem in which audience control==vague plot. My contention is that this doesn’t need to be the case. We can grant the player more control over their experience of participating with the narrative, while still retaining authoritative control over the plot.
Storytelling != plot. Storytelling is the experience of communicating your authoritative intent with the audience.
I think that’s an excellent question, but I’m going to reserve my full answer for Friday’s post. My short answer is that every time you pick up and read “For Sale: Baby Shoes. Never Worn.” you are experiencing a different narrative because you, the audience, are in a different place in your life.
February 4th, 2009 at 9:25 am
That makes sense. Developers are short-changing themselves (and the players) by keeping gameplay and narrative separate, which actually hurts their authorial control.
Now my question is, how would a developer align gameplay and narrative in a way that gives the player more control. It seems like that alignment would focus the game’s experience and make it more like a traditional narrative than a game like GTA which gives the player more options at the risk of watering down the narrative.
For example, a game like Braid, where the creator has attempted to incorporate gameplay into the narrative, is often criticized for exhibiting too much authorial control.
Also, it seems to me that the storyteller for a video game has more control over the narrative in a video game than a writer would (if they’re telling the story in the way you suggest) because they control not only the plot but also the way in which the plot is “read.” By using specific gameplay mechanics, developers have control over a process that writer’s can only alter minutely. Yes, I can make my linear narrative nonlinear, or a choose your own adventure, or hypertext, etc., but those options pale in comparison to what a game developer can do to influence a player’s experience. I think this is what you’re already suggesting above, which is very exciting.
I think my basic disagreement is that I don’t believe that video games truly give the player any freedom above and beyond what a writer can accomplish, aside from meaningless choice like “Do I go left or right?” or “Do I accomplish this before that?” What I get from your ideas is that games have an opportunity to provide new ways of telling a story because developers are able to manipulate the way the game is played in a way an author cannot manipulate the way a reader reads.
In my opinion, any true “freedom” a player has is a failure on the developer’s part, because freedom to me suggests a point where the gameplay mechanics have failed to support the narrative in the way the developer intended. The other freedoms people associate with games, like the order of a narrative, or being good/evil/or a shade of gray, can be accomplished on paper with words, so they aren’t part of what make games different. Those false freedoms are game developers attempts to differentiate a game from a traditional narrative, but they’re just a gimmick that is easier to do in games because of technology.
February 4th, 2009 at 10:01 am
I think we’re still working on the answers to questions like, “how can we align emergent and linear narrative to give players more meaningful control?” I have my ideas as to the solution and many others have there own. My solution involves a better understanding of how game mechanics communicate meaning and a willingness to stop using them strictly as a means of providing challenge.
My issue with Braid‘s attempt to communicate meaning is that there is no meaning attached to the player actions that don’t advance Blow’s idea of how the game should be played. Eventually, doing it wrong doesn’t help me better understand the game space. Only randomly trying new things does. I personally find that to be an unsatisfying experience.
Conversely, take a look at Passage. Rohrer retains tight control over the direction of the narrative, while allowing the player near total freedom at how they experience it. And while Clint Hocking may dispute this, the death of your mate in this game is unequivocally story expressed via game mechanics. To claim otherwise is a divisive, and ultimately futile, exercise.
The primary difference between those two games? Braid uses game mechanics to provide challenge (again, nothing wrong with that), while Passage uses them expressly to communicate theme.
Wow. There we differ. So vastly that I’m not even sure I can address it in the comments. But I do think we’re talking about different “freedoms.” I’m talking about the freedom of building your fabula in your own way. I’m talking about the ability to slowly explore the game environment vs. power leveling through the experience. These are far from meaningless freedoms, even if they don’t ultimately control the outcome of your plot.
Fabula, the audience understanding of the narrative as built through interaction with the narrative, is key to the storytelling process. Games afford us the ability to grant considerable control to the audience over the experience of the narrative, if not the direction. It’s a mistake to discount that and consider it insignificant.
February 4th, 2009 at 10:03 am
damnit corvus, stop posting everything i’m thinking. it’s like you’re inside my head stealing my thunder
on a serious note, i love this stuff, and i hope to see the theory in practice!
February 4th, 2009 at 10:25 am
Ahhhh, that makes sense and also helps me to understand the criticisms of Braid. Passage is a good example to compare it with.
So Rohrer has succeeded in utilizing the potential of games by creating a space where the player comes away with different meaning based on the choices they make, but Rohrer doesn’t control the specific choices or the plot by taking the talking stick back and telling the player what the meaning of their choices are.
The limitations, like impending death, enhance the player’s experience instead of providing challenge (though challenge is okay as long as it doesn’t conflict with narrative). That gameplay mechanic is part of the narrative.
February 4th, 2009 at 10:29 am
I certainly think Passage, and Rod Humble’s Marriage, are excellent starts. Now I want to see us go deeper and further.
February 4th, 2009 at 10:57 am
Okay, let me clog up the comments sections a little more with my interpretation of your post since I think I understand it now.
You’re right that I was ignoring the fabula concept. I was hung on on “intended” meaning. An author writes a novel with an intended meaning, or range of meanings. He could also write a chose your own adventure type narrative, but that would just result in more meanings intended by the author without any new flexibility on the reader’s part.
Games have the ability to give the player freedom by considering all aspects of the narrative they present. By considering gameplay mechanics as an integral part of the narrative, a la death in Passage, and giving the player choices within the framework of those mechanics, discrete intended meanings are avoided and the player shares the talking stick with the developer. The mechanics are still used to set boundaries and other elements of the game can lead the player toward a range of meaning, but the player’s experience is partially created by himself.
Instead of funneling the player toward specific meaning or authorial intention, utilizing game narrative in this way involves the player in the act of story-telling in a way that a linear narrative never can, no matter how convoluted the web of intended meaning is. So most games today still attempt to shove the player into a linear narrative and the freedom the player thinks they’re experiencing is false, or unsatisfying, because it hampers fabula by creating discord between gameplay and story.
So fabula, and forgive me if this is described in your story-telling white paper, is unique to games because of the “interaction” aspect?
February 4th, 2009 at 11:12 am
I’ve found it very interesting how many differing reactions my initial post has provoked, which in a way was my aim. I’m a little concerned how many people felt I was being in some way disparaging of literature.
Though I agree with parts of your post it is not the direction I myself was heading in. Part of me wishes I’d been able to follow up my initial post before you made yours but there we go. I will be posting a follow up and clarification latter today.
Since Passage has been brought up, I liked the experience it provided by I feel Rohrer made a mistake in setting the "death" at a specific point rather than after a set number of steps. I felt it would have been more powerful if having missed my wife initially and having gone back to be with her I would therefore die before her. I’d spent that initial time without her, and thus lost some of the time we could have shared.
February 4th, 2009 at 11:39 am
@Travis Ding! But I’m going to give you my answer to that final question in a post tomorrow.
@Justin The talking stick is all yours. But I’ll also be addressing our different experiences with/expectations of Passage in tomorrow’s post.
February 4th, 2009 at 12:12 pm
I think I know the answer already, but I’ll be eagerly awaiting the post to confirm!
February 4th, 2009 at 12:38 pm
This is a pretty fascinating discussion, and I’m glad Travis offered his thoughts here, as it helped me understand this a bit better. I’m still not completely clear on this, perhaps because I think too often of interactive fiction and how it fits in with this discussion — and I have a tough time resolving it.
Much of IF is linear, but many games are not. Still, even within the linear games (particularly the well constructed ones), there is some degree of player freedom incorporated in the mechanics. But along the same lines, as Travis points out, even with that freedom some IF games still shove the player into a linear narrative and that freedom is false or unsatisfying.
Aaron Reed’s new IF piece “Blue Lacuna” offers a great deal of choice and variation in the narrative and fabula, often providing very different experiences for different players. But I’m not sure that’s exactly what we’re talking about here.
So in the end, I’m left not really certain how to understand this. Perhaps Friday’s piece will help.
February 4th, 2009 at 1:04 pm
I think that interactive fiction tries to move past some of the limitations that regular fiction has, but that genre could probably utilize mechanics to the advantage of narrative as well.
I’ve just started playing interactive fiction so I don’t know everything that’s out there, but it seems like most people are experimenting with the story elements more than the mechanics. Since the player inputs language into a text parser, I think changing the mechanics would require making the player think about language differently. IF probably has more limitations than video games or traditional fiction, but I think limitations inspire creativity, so it’s been exciting exploring those games.
Do you have any recommendations, Rubes?
February 4th, 2009 at 1:10 pm
One thing I’ve noticed (and I’m equally guilty of this) is we often leave music as a form of expression of the games discussion. It’s usually just books and movies, occasionally theatre.
Where would music fit into this? Live performance vs. studio recording, single artist vs. band vs. orchestra. There might well be something interesting here; I’m going to think on this more.
(Also, props for writing this would referring to the big LND. I’m not sure I could have resisted the temptation :p ).
February 4th, 2009 at 2:33 pm
I want to clarify something.
I’m not saying that any one medium is better than another. Quite the opposite. I think each medium is uniquely capable of achieving magnificent heights of storytelling.
As a long time fan of literature and cinema, I believe that every medium develops unique approaches in order to effect the audience at an emotional and intellectual level.
I want to see games utilized equally effectively and, currently, they simply aren’t.
And while I am saying that each medium has particular strengths and a tendency to favor a particular part of the storytelling process, the above delineations are not meant to pigeon hole any of the mediums discussed. There are variances in each that I could devote entire months of blog posts to, from Vladimir Nabokov to William S. Burroughs, from Jean Luc Godard to Jim Jarmusch, from Norman Lear to David Simon.
Learning the existing rules so that they can be broken, and subsequently turned into new rules, is a huge part of the ongoing development every artistic expression.
Furthermore, as I stated in my Touching Base post just last week, I consider all storytelling efforts to be a communication process and am merely seeking to place them along a spectrum of how they enable audience participation. I do not consider one end of the spectrum “good” and the other “bad.”
February 4th, 2009 at 2:47 pm
People have been experimenting with both, really. There are some individuals such as Emily Short and Aaron Reed who have done some really interesting things with the mechanics of IF, while many others who as you mentioned have experimented with story elements.
A good place to start, if you don’t want to mess with IF interpreters, is Parchment (a web-based IF player) at http://parchment.toolness.com/. There are a number of games to choose from there, and you can even save and restore games if you want. Some of the ones I would recommend include some classics, as well as some newer games that either do a nice job of storytelling or experiment with different mechanics. Here are a few:
Galatea, by Emily Short
Varicella, by Adam Cadre
All Roads, by John Ingold
Anchorhead, by Michael Gentry
Whom the Telling Changed, by Aaron Reed
(…and, of course: Vespers, by Jason Devlin)…;-)
There are so many more…
February 4th, 2009 at 2:58 pm
I really like where this is going, Corvus.
Honestly, though, I can’t visualise an attempt to marry emergent and non-emergent narratives in video games. It would be difficult for the talking stick to be shared around, as the developer can’t be present for the player’s input and feedback, and so I can’t really see how the two storytellers might play to one another’s strengths.
For sure, the developer can anticipate the player’s responses, and programme the game they’re making with the player’s input in mind, but then we’re back to square one: this is authorial intent being thrust upon the player again. Even if the designer is allowing for the player’s own, “emergent” narrative, the experiences they’re preparing for are necessarily non-emergent, because they’re being prepared for!
Or am I wrong?
The case in point for me here is Scribblenauts, which I am itching to play.
February 4th, 2009 at 3:03 pm
@Spencer What you’re referring to is the far end of the participatory storytelling spectrum, where player feedback is actually accounted for in the unfolding of the plot. I think that’s an excellent goal, but one that’s a parallel track to examining game mechanics as an emergent storytelling tool.
Hopefully tomorrow’s post (not the one mentioned in the footnote, but one that specifically addresses questions in the comments) will go a long way to showing what I mean.
February 4th, 2009 at 4:05 pm
Nice post, I’ve been thinking along similar lines myself.
I think you need to be careful when you talk about “player freedom”. Obviously if a player wanted real freedom, they wouldn’t subject themself to the rules of a game. The rules are there to give structure to the player’s actions and create a narrative which provides a satisfying dramatic experience. The player wants the freedom to make choices but to see those choices result in a meaningful story. Otherwise the game is boring.
Narrative theorists get all antsy at this point and say that this is impossible, that is it having your cake and eating it too, but it really isn’t all that complicated. Games have always had this property.
Even scrabble does it. The layout of the Scrabble board — with bonuses in hard-to-reach corners and a tile/space ratio to guarantee a tight, but not too tight finish — enforces a certain dramatic structure on the play. It doesn’t work on every play of the game, but it works a lot more consistently than a random board.
Perhaps this isn’t ‘story’ in the literary sense, with characters and a plot, but it is certainly drama. And the interesting thing is that it is replayable drama. The events change from game to game but each game can be relied upon to (usually) provide an interesting narrative arc. Providing that arc is an act of authorial intent on the part of the designer, it doesn’t just happen on its own.
February 5th, 2009 at 11:46 am
[...] I made my initial post Corvus Elrod has presented his own take on my position which is at once divergent from my own and highly interesting in its own [...]
February 6th, 2009 at 11:56 am
I think Travis Megill suggested this post would be an answer to my BORT Digest; where I criticizes multiple endings in games.
I don’t think I really contradict you, Corvus. I do agree with your idea of emergent narrative and I agree that this could be a way of providing narratives which truly feel interactive.
My critique was directed towards the more traditional choose-your-own-adventure-type interactive plot, which relies on binary decisions and embedded multiple endings.
Some further comments:
- In ALL media, the stick always belongs to both: the author and the audience. The balance of ownership only changes. As the baby shoes example shows – in linear media, the audience can participate in creating meaning. I think one of the extreme examples would be William S. Burroughs.
- The passage example is cool but it remains to be explored how it scales up for larger, more detailed narratives. That’s why I said there is a lot work for us to do.
- A good example of a very traditional, embedded narrative that works well with the gameplay is (Surpirse!) the Phoenix Wright series on the DS. Even though the plot is quite linear, I frequently felt like my actions were meaningful. It didn’t feel like there were those separate things I would to while the plot proceeds along rigid rails. Might write a post on that, until then I suggest trying it out.
- I think it has been said already but in games, one of the most important ways how the game designer affects the narrative are… the VERBS – the things players CAN do. A game where I can only shoot things will not be about exploring diplomacy and mutual understanding. Verbs define the relationship the players will take within the narrative. Verbs are also game-designer-made, so this is defiantly where the game designers hold the stick. Most of the time, they don’t even realize. A simple great example is MG3, when I can look into a female character’s cleavage by pressing a button. Even if I don’t – simply having this verb already spells out a lot about the kind of character I’m playing.
February 6th, 2009 at 12:33 pm
@Krystian This post was more an exercise in filtering Justin reductionist list through my thoughts. It wasn’t really intended to be a statement of belief.
My next post on fabula is, however, a statement of belief and shows that I clearly share your belief that the talking stick always belongs to both author and audience.
January 14th, 2010 at 2:25 am
[...] and only today have I finally succeeded in putting my finger on it. Other people, like Corvus, have talked about the subject extensively, but I haven’t seen anyone address the possible limits that we designers have in our [...]