Onto Ergodic Literature

Reading this week:

Cybertext, Espen Aarseth

Espen Aarseth makes a series of… very compelling arguments in this text, all of which I can’t immediately discuss here, so I’ll begin with my initial responses… such as my immediate inclination to kneejerk at the assertion that cybertexts, as Aarseth calls them, have narrative elements but are not narratives, and should not be approached with the typical theories and aesthetics of traditional narratology. I can grant that new tools need to be discussed for the emergence of these new kinds of texts, and I even agree with much of Aarseth’s argument, but I’m wary on the issue of a cybertext’s essential absence of the unicursal “labyrinth” (or at least, essential inclusion of the multicursal).

For example, if I were to look at a graphical adventure game such as The Longest Journey or its sequel Dreamfall, I would (in my analysis) find a very strong narrative force directing me towards an ends ultimately regardless of any path I might want (or attempt) to take; a current; a flow. Character death could possibly result from any severe deviation, but there is ultimately (to my knowledge) only one real end-point in either game. So while I don’t necessarily disagree with Aarseth’s notion of “intrigue” rather than “narrative,” his further clarification that “intrigue” is “a secret plot in which the user is the innocent, but voluntary, target… with an outcome that is not yet decided,” seems lacking. The outcome is, essentially, already decided; short of stopping mid-play (which may be fine for essentially “unbeatable,” unending games like MUDs and so forth), a game of the adventure variety will eventually end in a particular way. The feedback loop is not as endless as the ergodic system seems to imply for cybertextuality (though it is certainly there, and I doubt Aarseth was attempting to intimate that ergodic texts are essentially infinite), so I wonder if a feedback “spiral” (towards the game’s endpoint) might be a more appropriate metaphor in this case.

I must interject that, admittedly, Aarseth is vastly discussing textual games in his analysis of the adventure genre, which work somewhat differently than their graphical brethren (but I wouldn’t say by leaps and bounds). However, I agree that the positions of the implied author (etc…) are (and must be) very different in a virtual, “ergodic” environments than their “linear” counterparts. These positions, says Aarseth, are essentially: the Programmer/Designer (creator), the implied creator, the voice of the game (the voice or other essential force that pushes the “narrative” forward), the implied user, and the real user.

Still, stating that the user is an “innocent” doesn’t seem as appropriate to me as “ignorant,” since most users know what they’re getting into (though the implied user may not). Regardless, the plot isn’t secret as such, though it may be unknown; most avid gamers would be very aware that there will be some kind of effective story in games that promise intense character development, forward “narrative” movement, philosophical themes, and other similar tropes. Further, what appears to Aarseth as a variety of outcomes appears to me as harsh bumpers and directions to put me (and my character-puppet) back on the appropriate (and sometimes rather predictable path) of story progression, and not so terribly different from hypertext in that regard. Does death represent a true “outcome” in a purpose-driven game, or is it merely a tool to explicitly state to the user that “really, that’s not the way things should be done, try again” while at the same time offering some real adrenaline-pumping consequences to keep the game-play alive? I wonder. It’s certainly far more gripping than clicking the same colored links over and over, though most story-intensive games I’ve encountered follow the “multiple paths to the same end” formula, which isn’t the same as “multiple paths to multiple ends” (multicursal?) or even “one path to one end” (unicursal).

There are games (such as Chrono Trigger) that have offered a real variety of outcomes, but given that Chrono Trigger has been marketed specifically as a unique incidence for its multiple ending scenarios, this bespeaks to me a situation where a wide swathe (if not most) games do not allow for any real, fulfilling outcomes that are not the closure of the end-game (of a single incidence). Does this mean that most games that follow this kind of construction are “linear”? Possibly, but I do think that would be missing the point of ergodic feedback that simply does not exist in traditional storytelling. But can a piece of ergodic literature be essentially linear and still have cybernetic feedback? I think so.

My argument might begin as the following: A user or player of a game is both within the plot proper, and yet without; it is a dual existence that does not inhibit the awareness of either. Focusing within as a player must does not preclude the secondary self or “unplayer” from gathering the elements of story and watching their playing self unfold Aarseth’s “intrigue”. This secondary self acts as the anchor to reality, the archive of social agenda, and the adamantine link that prevents complete self-denial and the refusal of disbelief; hence, “suspension”. Further, with games in the discussed regards, ergodic feedback allows for a powerfully variable environment that may still be wrapped in a greater flow towards a particular outcome (perhaps with a variety of faux outcomes on the way to provide the fear of dramatic consequences, which inevitably drop the player back in the essential flow, which moves ever-forward). I am not, however, suggesting this is true of all games, but merely a nebulous point Aarseth seems to have missed in this original text.