26 / wfmag.cc
Interface
Columnhere’s a concept in literature of the
‘oral tradition’, where stories spread
by word of mouth rather than
being written down. The upside is
these narratives propagate rapidly
and change to suit the context and audience of
their telling. The downside is there’s no definitive
version, only a tessellation of reflections loosely
revolving around the same names, events, and
themes. It’s human and organic, but there’s
neither author nor authority.
Nowadays, we value both of those things.
We often buy games because they’re a Devolver
game, or because Hideo Kojima’s involved, or
because Wireframe gave it a number higher than- We used to see things like Sid Meier’s Pirates!,
and though the naming-trend is now unusual,
the rise of influencers over the last decade shows
how powerful individual authority still is. But
games themselves are less and less tangible:
what once came on a collection of hefty floppy
disks and played on room-dominating desktop
set-ups became trim CDs in laminated boxes, then
formless bits of digital pseudo-stuff you can refund
after playing for one hour and fifty-nine minutes.
This is mirrored by the increasing intangibility of
gaming platforms: hefty PC towers to under-TV
consoles to handhelds tucked in bags to cloud
gaming. It’s interesting that while literature has
gone from the ephemeral to the concrete – try
‘retelling’ Margaret Atwood’s Testaments and see
how long it takes the lawyer’s letter to reach you –
games seem to be going the other way.
The oral tradition put a lot of power in the
mouth of the narrator, but for games, the narrator
is what, our CPU? Wonderful though computer
science and game design are, neither have yet
cracked a fully responsive game experience that
tailors itself to the unique player before them. Part
of this is because games don’t necessarily want a
unique, tailor-made experience. Yes, we have hard
mode and character customisation and branching
narrative, but God of War is framed in a seamless,
perfect one-shot experience, while BioShock relies
on telling Jack’s story exactly the way it was written.
Oral Tradition: Don’t
Underestimate Bards
T
“These
narratives
propagate
rapidly and
change to suit
the context and
audience of
their telling”
Games ship infinite digital copies of themselves
to give the same curated experience to as many
players as they can. People are free to respond
to it individually, but the content itself remains
the same.
This is why, I think, I’m increasingly a fan of
abstract games, or games that leave space for
the player to breathe. The Stanley Parable had
a lot to say about agency, the modern world,
and corporate America, but because it relied
on repetitive and increasingly meaningless
actions, it didn’t really matter how you actually
played. INSIDE seemed another meditation on
individualism, agency, and surveillance until its
infamous denouement, which has no ‘official’
meaning at all. There is a definite drive towards
narrative excellence in our industry, but at least for
me, it’s the stories that have faith in their players’
intelligence – the stories that want you to connect
the dots, rather than rendering gorgeous and
definitive dots for you – that really lead the pack.
They’re storytellers responding to their audience,
not recitals of canonical text. Long may their
audience listen.LOTTIE BEVAN
Lottie’s a producer and
co-founder of award-
winning narrative
microstudio Weather
Factory, best known for
Cultist Simulator. She’s
one of the youngest
female founders in
the industry, a current
BAFTA Breakthrough
Brit, and founder of
Coven Club, a women
in games support
network. She produces,
markets, bizzes and
arts, and previously
worked on Fallen
London, Sunless
Sea, Zubmariner,
and Sunless Skies
as producer at
Failbetter Games.
INSIDE: a game of mystery, intrigue,
individualism, and surveillance. At least
until its perplexing conclusion.