On several occasions I’ve recounted events that took place while I was playing a game. I’ve described in detail the actions I took and the consequences of those actions, as well as explaining my motivations and emotional reaction to such events:
Jumping out I threw a Molotov at the pursuing vehicle. The Molotov hit the driver setting him on fire and killing him almost instantly. Ducking behind my dune buggy I drew my silenced MP-5 and after a brief game of cat and mouse around some nearby trees I was able to to finish off the second mercenary with a burst to the chest. While I’d been otherwise occupied the fire from my Molotov had ignited their vehicle and as I watched it started to spread toward mine. I sprinted back in an attempt to reach it and drive away before it too could catch fire. I was forced to turn away at the last moment as, already damaged from the initial crash, it exploded, taking a significant portion of my health with it and leaving me standing in the middle of nowhere.
Despite being an accurate description of the events as I perceived them, none of those things occurred in any discernible, measurable way. What actually happen in that period of time was that I moved my mouse in a specific sequence and pressed certain keys in a specific order in reaction to the changing images on my monitor and sound emitted by my speakers.
Somehow I had become so invested in the fictional context constructed by the game that it overrode my logical faculties. The events occurring within its fictional world temporarily became my own reality.
The described sequence of events, my story of that encounter, is unique to me and it existed in an intangible non-space defined by the feedback systems of the game and my understanding and perception of the context of my actions.
I’ve already discussed the concept of games as systems of communication, and fundamental to effective communication is the establishment of a common ground between all participants. Without a common ground, a shared context, even rudimentary communication is difficult and effective communication is impossible.
This concept of communication is not unique to games. Every work of fiction exists for the audience in this non-space bounded by the intersection of the text itself, ripe as it is with the intent of the author, and the mind of the audience, with all its associated preconceptions and prejudices. The form of this common ground and the story describing an individual’s path through it are unique to each individual and each reading. Though the boundaries of this common ground defined by the text itself are immutable those defined by the audience are inherently subjective and flexible.
When reading a book the reader mentally explores this common ground and through this exploration discovers the intended plot. Although this predefined sequence of events will be identical for every reader their individual emotional connection and response to it will be entirely based on the subjective elements they have brought with them.
The act of reading is the act of discovering each person’s individual subjective story. The process Corvus Elrod describes as the construction of the fabula.
If this description of reading as a process of exploration sounds familiar it should. The act of play is the act of exploring a bounded possibility space. The process of exploration forming a personal story within the common grounded formed by the game itself and our own beliefs and values. The fundamental differences between this form of exploration in a game and in other media is that player action has the capacity to change the landscape of this common ground, this possibility space.
Though the audience of a film, or the reader of a novel, is free to explore the common ground and the boundaries defined by the author, those boundaries are absolute and predefined. Events occur in a specific sequence regardless of any action taken on the part of the audience. We are free to scream at the girl to not go up the stairs because the killer is waiting but we know it will have no affect on the outcome. The aspects of the common ground open to exploration are those related to our interpretation of events and motivations, and our emotional reaction to those events. Such works of fiction allow us to explore ourselves through our reaction to the fictional context.
This is not true of games. The events I described above were not a predefined sequence of occurrences structured by an author, but an emergent sequence of events caused by a confluence of in game circumstances only some of which were under my control.
Game designers cannot directly affect the experience the player has in the game. Their role is that of influencing and shaping the possible experiences, and designing the context for play. Each player’s fabula is one of an infinite number that exist within the bounded possibility space defined by the mechanics and dynamics of the game and the players own personality. Such works allow us to explore ourselves and also the rules and systems governing the possibility space, the game, itself.
Rules and mechanics exists only in the abstract, though they implicitly provided for exploration and discovery, stripped of all context their ability to convey meaning is greatly reduced. Consider the story described above stripped of context and reduced to the basic mechanical elements:
“Verb” I “Verb” a “Noun” at the pursuing “Noun”. The “Noun” hit the “Noun” setting him “Adjective” and “Verb” him almost instantly. “Verb” behind my “Noun” I “Verb” my “Noun” and after a brief game of cat and mouse around some nearby “Nouns” I was able to to finish off the second “Noun” with a “Verb” to the “Noun”.
Even that almost meaningless story still relies on some context. The story constructed through the exploration of an entirely context free possibility space is a list of mechanical inputs and outputs. In order for any game to hold meaning, and thus compel us to suspend our disbelief and allow it to become our temporary reality, it requires the effective establishment of a context for actions. The bounded possibility space needs to become a bounded narrative space.
So how does a game designer go about establishing this bounded narrative space, this common ground? How do they maintain effective and meaningful communication?
4 replies on “Narrative Context.”
Great post. How that’s done is precisely what I’ve been nattering on about for some time. Each verb available must have meaning within the context of the relationships presented within the storyspace. Rather than focusing strictly on gameplay as challenge/reward, it must represent something deeper within the narrative. A great many of the designs submitted to the January Round Table represent this quite well.
Hopefully the Pale Fire game I’m trying to get ready by IGF next year will as well.
I found myself nattering on the general direction of this discussion today as well on my own blog; albeit I make the case that games are implicitly “shared worlds” (in the context of the Wild Cards shared world) and much more narratively can be done if that is taken into account. Particularly, I’m slowly trying to work my way towards something of a case for iterative storytelling as a key towards intriguing shared narrative design. (That is not a typo; not just interactive, but iterative, as is so much of software design.) I think there is a lot of room to play with the idea of setting a context, letting players tell their stories in that context, re-connecting those stories (re-contextualizing them), and making them the basis for the next round. As comics do issue to issue with writers moving in and out of their roles, or the Wild Cards series has done with 20 books over nearly two dozen years.
I think this is an important aspect of narrative in games that gets conveniently glossed over, good post.
The developers certainly hold sway over the direction of the cannon, but where the gamer lands on the target will always have a nice range of experience variation. I think most people now want super-targeted sniper games…forgive the metaphor, but if you got it I’m fine.
Anyway, there’s not really anything wrong with tightening up the direction in which a player will experience the narrative. However, I think a lot of us (not implying anyone directly) have been whining about such experiences without considering what it entails for everything else in the game. Trying to consciously manipulate narrative through context not in one’s hands is extremely tricky on some levels…and the people at the drawing board are too muddled down in other things.
~sLs~
That’s exactly what I had the experience like with Far Cry 2, I was so involved in that world, I was acting exactly as you did in that Molotov situation. That’s just something unique about that game, I’ve never had that kind of immersion in another FPS. That world is so real, I just wish the voice acting direction was a bit better.