Listen in on this Class
Fitzpatrick: ... We are talking about the online book
GAM3R 7H3ORY by McKenzie Wark today. There are two obvious
ways of coming at this. One is via content, the other is via form. I’m
willing to start in either direction with you guys. One of the things
that made me choose this was, of course, form—what happens to
the scholarly text when you attempt to reenvision the way the work
gets done. The other is that he’s dealing with this question of games
that we’ve spent a lot of time talking about.
Rachel: I think it would be helpful for me if we talked about what
play is, versus what a game is, versus what game space is.
Fitzpatrick: That is a really interesting set of questions. Do you have
any initial stabs? How do you distinguish these things from one
another? How is Wark attempting to distinguish these?
Rachel:
Play is a positive thing, but it can be corrupted by Games
can become like work, not play.
Mary: If you have a set series of rules and you have to perform
certain tasks in a certain order and you get a prize at the end, then
it can turn into a game, whereas play is more of a loose interaction. ...
Fitzpatrick: ... So games manage to turn play into work by enforcing
rules, by having an end goal? And that is related to game space?
Amanda: Game space struck me—the way he dealt with it—as a
fancy, souped-up way of saying “the world and its parameters.”
Fitzpatrick: This book is one great big algorithm, right? Amanda pointed out
online that every chapter has exactly 25 paragraphs, which is really unnerving,
and there are also places in the comments in which he defends the “one
chapter, one game” rule. So clearly he’s set this whole series of rules: I shall
write a book in which every chapter has 25 paragraphs and in which I use each
game to explore one idea, and I’ll do it in alphabetical order. There’s something
very strange about a book that’s subject to this many rules. What did you make
of it as a reading experience?
Rachel: In the chapter on boredom, you could argue that making it a really
long, boring chapter, where you want to gouge your eyes out with a spoon, is
really effective as a literary device. He both had a lot to say and didn’t have
much to say at all. It was a really awkward chapter.
Fitzpatrick: What did you make of the readers’ comments that were
interspersed throughout? Were they revealing of anything in particular?
Rachel: I can’t say they helped me much. Either they were from a gamer’s
perspective and I had no idea what they were talking about, or they were from a
theorist’s perspective and I had no idea what they were talking about. ...
Fitzpatrick: ... Indeed. It’s pretty much where most of the comments seemed to
fall—either someone who is speaking Wark’s language and is able to respond
to him about theoretical issues, or someone who is not speaking Wark’s
language but knows more about games and is responding to his readings or
misreadings or non-readings of the games themselves.
Max: To be a game theorist, it’s expected that you’re going to be a gamer. If
you want to be a literary theorist, it’s expected or required that you have an
incredible amount of reading under your belt to validate your opinions. If you’re
going to set yourself up to be an authority you have to have a certain level of
accomplishment.
Hilary: I think you may be right about that, but some of that divide may be
because you have a split between the medium and the message. It’s very
possible to be familiar with the nature of the medium without knowing a ton
about all the details of the content. I do not play games at all and am very
familiar with the premises and the basic way that all of these games operate
because I have friends who do play them. It’s very possible to be familiar with
the way the games work without necessarily knowing what exact combination
of keys you have to press to defeat the boss on level 7. ...
Fitzpatrick: ... I wonder how much that divide can really be bridged.
One of the major tenets of post-modernism has been that there is no
more distinction between high art and low art—everything is just
intermingled promiscuously. My contention has been that this is true,
but only from the perspective of the keepers of what has
traditionally been high culture. It is now possible for an academic to
write a book about video games, and to take them very seriously
and to use them as the jumping-off point for some very serious
thought. But do people who traditionally only have access to the
things we think of as low culture, popular culture, have the same
entry into that form of elite discourse as those who are producing
elite discourse have into popular culture?
Katie: The academics who are studying the theory first are coming
at it from a top-down, critical angle, whereas the gamers who are
playing. It’s just a very different way of understanding.
Paul: Some of the most interesting critical literature coming from
gamers doesn’t come from current gamers; it comes from exgamers,
people who have quit games and write about them. And
you say that academics have a certain entry into popular discourse
that gamers don’t have into the elite discourse in academia. I find it
interesting that Wark chooses these games, because none requires a
serious time investment. He didn’t do WoW, he didn’t do StarCraft,
he didn’t do Half-Life 2. You can look online at the massive
community games that have huge discourse going on in the gaming
community around them. You’re talking between 40 and 60 hours a
week if you want to be at the top of a game. I’m not sure that it’s
possible to be that immersed in something and write about it. ...