Friday, February 28, 2014
Comments & Questions on Jimmy Corrigan
Post your questions/thoughts as comments to this post. Again: a paragraph is fine, or a couple if you feel so moved. You are posting on a question, problem or topic of your choice. Citing a particular passage is recommended but not required.
Prompts on Marcuse & Jimmy Corrigan - also, you're stopping point
Images in Jimmy Corrigan
Do a close reading/viewing of an image, or brief series of images in Jimmy Corrigan. This means that you should select a single image (probably in a single frame or short sequence of frames, although it might be a repeating image), examine it as closely as you can, and explain in detail how it can help us understand either the book as a whole, or a particular section of it. For instance - you could analyze the significance of the details of Jimmy's apartment as he works up his courage to call Peggy, or you could analyze the details of the appearance of the "dream-robot."The Instructions
Pick some part of the "general instructions" on the inside cover of Jimmy Corrigan, and use those instructions (which are simultaneously serious and funny, very complicated and silly - this isn't easy material) to explain how we ought to read some section of the book (as short as an image, or as long as a few pages). Note that the instructions appear in images as well as in words.Marcuse and Jimmy Corrigan
Use Marcuse, including specifics, to analyze Jimmy Corrigan. Alternatively, you may analyze Jimmy Corrigan in relationship with one other work of "popular culture" (I am using the term loosely, not precisely). You should, as usual, have a specific argument, in this case at least inspired by Marcuse (if you disagree in some fundamental way with Marcuse, this essay might help explain why). The most obvious question you might begin with is: "does my chosen work engage in, or try to engage in, the Great Refusal"?Whatever your exact approach, it is critical that you engage with the "text" of Jimmy Corrigan on a visual level - analysis of the written text alone, to the exclusive of the visual elements, is not sufficient.
Note: my intended stopping point is on this page, which is about halfway through the book:
Thursday, February 27, 2014
The ART of Dear Esther
Growing up, one the enjoyable and
more interesting things to do with your friends is play video games. It can be anytime of the day there would
always be an opportunity to play because you didn’t have to depend on the
weather or anything epic happening like you would from playing outside with the
other kids. The reason everyone played
video games is because they were not only fun, but can always capture your
attention. From playing games that
involved shooting guns, fighting monsters, and racing cars just to name a few,
would continuously seem to lock your eyes to the television screen of virtual
world as if you were physically in the game yourself. When thinking about the video game Dear Esther, none of these qualities
rarely come to mind. Not that it’s such
a bad example of a video game, but that I don’t even see it as “being called” a
video game in the first place.
The main overall reason I feel as though
Dear Esther isn’t a video game is
because by playing it there is no objective on what is needed to be
accomplished. You mainly walk around an
island by yourself while listening to a series of voiced-over letter fragments
to a woman who is not around anymore that goes by the name of Esther. You would think that this game would at least
be made up to be some kind of puzzle or mystery in finding clues but it isn’t like
that. As creepy of a setting the game is
being played in you would expect your character would have a gun and shoot
something in harm’s way that pops out at you like most game’s but that isn’t what
this game is about. You wander from
place to place as if you’re on a journey and hoping to get to the next
destination that you’re supposed to be at.
The game also doesn’t have any characters. It states how there are character named
Donnelly, Paul, and Jakobson but they are all unseen throughout the video game. I don’t see why they can’t be seen which
gives me another reason why this is called a video game. Most video games I know of have characters
that you can even choose from to make games much more fun. One thing I will point out is the graphics
that are being seen while playing this game.
Throughout the journey through the island I noticed how beautiful the
scenery played out with the clouds being a certain color in the sky to the calm
waters that settled about just off of land.
These illustrations were crisp and were probably the only thing that
kept me into enjoying the game. These are
examples why I recall Dear Esther as
being art and not a game.
When I think of a video game I can
still get the idea of Zork. Even though there wasn’t much creativity
being made into it, this game still had an objective. While you’re still adventuring through land
the one thing that stands out is that you still have a goal. That goal was to return from the Underground
Empire alive with treasures while still having to face obstacles such as grues,
zorkmids, and many novel creatures. Even
though I didn’t quite like how Zork was played, I still look at that as an idea
of what you’re supposed to look for in a game.
Overall, from my experience of
playing Dear Esther I must say that
it was an optimistic but a more dreary type of game. A lot of people may give it a thumbs up and
so will I, but that would have to go towards the “art” of Dear Esther and not from it being a “game.”
Links for Today
Dear Esther Screen Shots
https://www.dropbox.com/sh/tgd6m1fchd6vr5x/yIQCKkr9qy
The Declaration of Independence
http://www.archives.gov/exhibits/charters/declaration_transcript.html
Book of Acts
http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext05/bib4410h.htm
What is Enlightenment?
http://web.mnstate.edu/gracyk/courses/web%20publishing/KantOnElightenment.htm
This is our initial screen shot:
https://www.dropbox.com/sh/tgd6m1fchd6vr5x/yIQCKkr9qy
The Declaration of Independence
http://www.archives.gov/exhibits/charters/declaration_transcript.html
Book of Acts
http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext05/bib4410h.htm
What is Enlightenment?
http://web.mnstate.edu/gracyk/courses/web%20publishing/KantOnElightenment.htm
This is our initial screen shot:
Dear Esther: An Interactive Art Game
Approach any man, woman, or child
and simply ask “what is art?” You should then be prepared to face a barrage of
varying answers. The ensuing responses about art may range from something as
profound and literal as Leonardo da Vinci’s Mona
Lisa to quite possibly something completely unexpected such as the
architectural mastery of the Leaning Tower of Pisa. The point is, when
defining, analyzing, or envisioning art it is entirely subjective to the
individual. The video game Dear Esther is
no exception in this case and is quite often the subject of much debate. Dear Esther is an entirely unique
experience which transcends the classification as a mere video game, and
instead should be seen as an exceptionally crafted interactive artistic gaming
experience.
Enter the world of Dear Esther. We begin our journey by standing on an unknown and uninhabited island
just a few feet from the shore. There are instant subtle cues right in front of
us that any gamer would embrace, like walking toward and exploring a decrepit
cabin. MacDonald felt just as I did saying “You are led, without ever really feeling
like you are being led, by subtle visual cues that stand out against the landscape
and draw you towards them.” We are plunged into this game
with no directions, and for me at least, no clue how to even move at first. But
once we learn how to walk it’s quite easy to be struck by the captivating
scenery that surrounds us. The sweeping sound of the shore, the monumental cliffside
in the distance, and the ripped skyline which is open just enough to emit a
beam of sublime light can alone provide as much realism and beauty as a Monet
painting. The gaming
reviewer Pinsof felt “Dear Esther is one of the most beautiful games I’ve
ever played at points, overcoming any sense of dullness the rest of the
experience put me through.” But this beauty is even more exemplified when the narrator begins his poetic
monologue from what can only be understood as fragmented journal entries to
someone named Esther. The music provided with our journey can be quite moving
and sometimes even quite eerie when the dark piano score begins to play. These latter
segments, especially inside the cave, felt like using the “W” key was giving us
the ability to see an art exhibition.
In Dear Esther, even with its artistic form, can at times
take a semi-conventional approach as a game. First, the controls are rather
simple and common and can be summed up abruptly. You can
walk forward, laterally, and backward at a rather snail-like pace, zoom in your
view, swim up when in the water, and when you embrace the darkness of some
buildings and caves a flashlight automatically comes out. As Pinsof bluntly
puts it “you
literally hold down the “W”-key for 70 minutes -- even ducking, the only other
action, is automatic.” His statement is not too far from the truth. We may be
simply guiding our player through this uninhabited Hebridean Island picking up
pieces of the story as we go, but this isn’t just walking with no cause and
you’re surely not spoon fed the entire game. Like many other games, you must in
fact find and walk along the correct paths in order to advance in the game. If
you feel like venturing into the dark waters like I did, you’ll find that you
can even die. When you’re drowning in the water we see a dark flashback to what
looks like a shipwrecked boat, providing a rather powerful message. So, the
notion by many that this should not be considered a game should be laid to rest
because it adheres to a lot of familiar territory many other conventional games
take, but with more artistic qualities.
A very critical piece
to this entire argument is the use of narrative qualities throughout the game.
Consequently the plot and gameplay would seemingly become entirely
one-dimensional and devoid without the storytelling from our mysterious
narrator. As Allistair
Pinsof says “Even when the words fall flat, voice actor Nigel Carrington makes
them come alive with a rare spirit. He adds a weight to the syllables that make
them sink into your gut,” and the heart. Dear
Esther forces the player to fit pieces of a cryptic puzzle all together in
order to form a vivid understanding of the events that took place prior and
during our narrators inhabiting the island. For example, when the narrator
relays to us a disjointed story of a car crash it almost seems random and may
be written off. However, later in the game during nightfall as we ascend from
the caves we see candles scattered along several parts of the beach. They only become
revealing when we approach candles intentionally surrounding several pictures
of a woman, and later more candles enclosing various parts of a car. At this
point if the narration didn’t help you enough, then the symbolism and blatant
imagery should bring everything together. Esther was our protagonist’s wife
whose life was tragically cut too short due to a car crash. Our shipwrecked
narrator feels anguish, despair, and hopelessness
as we arrive closer to the final moments of the game. It was these images and
the poetic words from our narrator’s perspective where emotion and sympathy is
evoked from us, the player. This is similarly reminiscent when looking at a
painting and reading an interpretation of what the painter was trying to
convey. Here is where a game transcends what it means to be a medium of
entertainment and becomes coupled with art.
Dear Esther made me reevaluate how I perceive gaming now. I’ve come to realize that there doesn’t have to be a clearly defined set of objectives or a mission, weapons, or even an ability to jump, run, or open things in order for a game to actually be considered a game. The artistic form and somewhat conventional qualities make Dear Esther into a piece of interactive art gaming where the player is working with the medium in such a way that it achieves a specific purpose (Interactive Art). This specific purpose is shown in Dear Esther as it is revolutionary to gaming and art because it doesn’t confine gaming to an individual genre or art to its own genre. Thanks to Dear Esther, in the next few years we may really begin to see a shift in people perceiving video games as art.
Allistair,
Pinsof. "Review: Dear Esther." Rev. of Dear Esther. Destructoid.
N.p., 12 Feb. 2012. Web. 24. Feb. 2013. http://www.destructoid.com/review-dear-esther-221082.phtml.
"Interactive Art." Art
Interactive. N.p., n.d. Web.
24 Feb. 2014. <http://www.artinteractive.org/interactive-art/>.
MacDonald,
Keza. "Dear Esther Review." Rev. of Dear Esther. IGN.
N.p., 13 Feb. 2012. Web. 24. Feb. 2013. < http://www.ign.com/articles/2012/02/13/dear-esther-review>.
Dear Esther as Art and Game
Dear Esther as Art
Dear Esther is an unusual piece of software. It defies easy categorization. Its nature as an interactive experience places it on the boundary of the common definitions of "game" and "art." To label Dear Esther may not affect the experience, but doing so allows for easy discussion of its place in the landscape of modern media. Dear Esther is an important example of art, and an important achievement in video games, and recognizing this is an important step in the evolution of modern art.
To establish that Dear Esther is an important artistic game, it must first be defined as a game. As Allistair Pinsof of Destructoid says of Dear Esther, "yes, it is a game. There are rules and keys and narrative triggers and all those things we come to expect of a $9.99 purchase on Steam" (Pinsof). The argument made here is that Dear Esther should be defined as a video game because that is what it is in form, if not function. Dear Esther is built on the Source video game engine, uses the same control schemes as most first-person shooters, and, superficially at least, asks for the same player interaction as most video games (Cameron). While it eschews the trappings of popular, successful video games, this simply makes it a different type of video game instead of a different medium altogether.
Establishing that Dear Esther is a game can be used to determine if it is art. Film critic Roger Ebert declared these two states inherently exclusive, stating that, "Video games by their nature require player choices, which is the opposite of the strategy of serious film and literature, which requires authorial control" (Ebert). This definition limits the scope of art to static media such as film and literature, assuming that the work of art must retain its artistic qualities even when unobserved. Dear Esther, however, applies narrative techniques borrowed from art and film to the experience of the player. The art of Dear Esther is in the authored design, which accounts for the players choices and invites the player to experience the narrative in the way that the designer intends. The hand of the author is felt throughout Dear Esther in moments when, as described in a review, "you are led, without ever really feeling like you are being led, by subtle visual cues that stand out against the landscape and draw you towards them" (MacDonald). This invitation to interact with the world allows the author to deliver the narrative in new, creative ways. As Nathan Grayson describes in a piece on Dear Esther "taken in conjunction with the option to explore and digest the world as we saw fit, it created a perfect environment for both building this all-consuming curiosity and slowly but surely sating it" (Grayson). By creating systems that respond to the players actions with the intention of providing an emotional and potentially self-reflective experience for the player, the developers of Dear Esther act as artists, and their creation, art.
Dear Esther's authored design show that in form it is art, but its content prove that it is also, maybe more importantly, art in function. According to Marcuse, "In its advanced positions, art is the Great Refusal -- the protest against that which is. The modes in which man and things are made to appear, to sing and sound and speak, are modes of refuting, breaking, and recreating their factual existence" (63). Dear Esther engages in this refusal by delivering its narrative in a disjointed, non-linear fashion, as well as through the symbolism of objects in its world. The juxtaposition of the realistic, believable environments with the narrator's descent into insanity show the Marcusian refusal at work. They highlight the difference between the fictitious world of Dear Esther and the real world.
Dear Esther's difficulty to categorize come from the same elements that make it interesting. However, categorizing it as a game and as art is important because it expands the definitions of these media to include more experiences like Dear Esther.
Works Cited:
Cameron, Phil. "Moved By Mod: Dear Esther's Dan Pinchbeck." Gamasutra. UBM Tech, 1 July 2009. Web. 27 Feb. 2014.
Ebert, Roger. "Why Did the Chicken Cross the Genders?" Roger Ebert.com. Ebert Digital LLC, 27 Nov. 2005. Web. 27 Feb. 2014.
Grayson, Nathan. "Dear Videogames, Stop Telling Me Everything." Rock Paper Shotgun. Rock Paper Shotgun Ltd., 29 Aug. 2008. Web. 27 Feb. 2014.
MacDonald, Keza. "Dear Esther Review." IGN. IGN Entertainment, 14 Feb. 2012. Web. 27 Feb. 2014.
Marcuse, Herbert. One-dimensional Man: Studies in the Ideology of Advanced Industrial Society. Boston: Beacon, 1991. Print.
Pinsof, Allistair. "Review: Dear Esther." Destructoid. N.p., 13 Feb. 2012. Web. 27 Feb. 2014.
Dear Esther is an unusual piece of software. It defies easy categorization. Its nature as an interactive experience places it on the boundary of the common definitions of "game" and "art." To label Dear Esther may not affect the experience, but doing so allows for easy discussion of its place in the landscape of modern media. Dear Esther is an important example of art, and an important achievement in video games, and recognizing this is an important step in the evolution of modern art.
To establish that Dear Esther is an important artistic game, it must first be defined as a game. As Allistair Pinsof of Destructoid says of Dear Esther, "yes, it is a game. There are rules and keys and narrative triggers and all those things we come to expect of a $9.99 purchase on Steam" (Pinsof). The argument made here is that Dear Esther should be defined as a video game because that is what it is in form, if not function. Dear Esther is built on the Source video game engine, uses the same control schemes as most first-person shooters, and, superficially at least, asks for the same player interaction as most video games (Cameron). While it eschews the trappings of popular, successful video games, this simply makes it a different type of video game instead of a different medium altogether.
Establishing that Dear Esther is a game can be used to determine if it is art. Film critic Roger Ebert declared these two states inherently exclusive, stating that, "Video games by their nature require player choices, which is the opposite of the strategy of serious film and literature, which requires authorial control" (Ebert). This definition limits the scope of art to static media such as film and literature, assuming that the work of art must retain its artistic qualities even when unobserved. Dear Esther, however, applies narrative techniques borrowed from art and film to the experience of the player. The art of Dear Esther is in the authored design, which accounts for the players choices and invites the player to experience the narrative in the way that the designer intends. The hand of the author is felt throughout Dear Esther in moments when, as described in a review, "you are led, without ever really feeling like you are being led, by subtle visual cues that stand out against the landscape and draw you towards them" (MacDonald). This invitation to interact with the world allows the author to deliver the narrative in new, creative ways. As Nathan Grayson describes in a piece on Dear Esther "taken in conjunction with the option to explore and digest the world as we saw fit, it created a perfect environment for both building this all-consuming curiosity and slowly but surely sating it" (Grayson). By creating systems that respond to the players actions with the intention of providing an emotional and potentially self-reflective experience for the player, the developers of Dear Esther act as artists, and their creation, art.
Dear Esther's authored design show that in form it is art, but its content prove that it is also, maybe more importantly, art in function. According to Marcuse, "In its advanced positions, art is the Great Refusal -- the protest against that which is. The modes in which man and things are made to appear, to sing and sound and speak, are modes of refuting, breaking, and recreating their factual existence" (63). Dear Esther engages in this refusal by delivering its narrative in a disjointed, non-linear fashion, as well as through the symbolism of objects in its world. The juxtaposition of the realistic, believable environments with the narrator's descent into insanity show the Marcusian refusal at work. They highlight the difference between the fictitious world of Dear Esther and the real world.
Dear Esther's difficulty to categorize come from the same elements that make it interesting. However, categorizing it as a game and as art is important because it expands the definitions of these media to include more experiences like Dear Esther.
Works Cited:
Cameron, Phil. "Moved By Mod: Dear Esther's Dan Pinchbeck." Gamasutra. UBM Tech, 1 July 2009. Web. 27 Feb. 2014.
Ebert, Roger. "Why Did the Chicken Cross the Genders?" Roger Ebert.com. Ebert Digital LLC, 27 Nov. 2005. Web. 27 Feb. 2014.
Grayson, Nathan. "Dear Videogames, Stop Telling Me Everything." Rock Paper Shotgun. Rock Paper Shotgun Ltd., 29 Aug. 2008. Web. 27 Feb. 2014.
MacDonald, Keza. "Dear Esther Review." IGN. IGN Entertainment, 14 Feb. 2012. Web. 27 Feb. 2014.
Marcuse, Herbert. One-dimensional Man: Studies in the Ideology of Advanced Industrial Society. Boston: Beacon, 1991. Print.
Pinsof, Allistair. "Review: Dear Esther." Destructoid. N.p., 13 Feb. 2012. Web. 27 Feb. 2014.
"Dear Esther" as a Commercial Masterpiece
·
In “One-Dimensional Man”, Marcuse
states that, recently, art has been absorbed into the prevailing state of
affairs, taking the form of commercials to sell, comfort, and excite (Marcuse
64). Presented as a video game, Dear
Esther takes on the form of commercial art. In both the Marcusian and the
common definition, Dear Esther can
undoubtedly be considered art. Scenery, paintings, and music create a beautiful
canvas, and make the game art in aesthetic sense. The form in which it is
played makes it art in the Marcusian definition.
Dear
Esther is aesthetically pleasing on many levels. First and foremost, it has
extremely well-made visuals. The game starts on the shore with typical beach
scenery and a cloudy sky. When the player reaches Chapter 3, though, the
landscape becomes indescribable. The caves are so beautifully crafted with
light, colors and intricacies that anyone would consider astonishing. There are
also paintings within the game that are complex and interesting. Symbols for
organic compounds appear often, and in the caves there are depictions of
neurons and patterns that look like circuitry. In one alley of the cave, these
paintings cover the entire wall.
They overtake the senses with their intricacy, neon
coloring, and sheer number. This is art in an overpowering way, which is a
different form than most of the other visuals take in the game. All of these
aspects make the game enjoyable to look at.
The soundtrack and the letters add
two other, less visual, layers of art to Dear
Esther. The music is mostly piano and strings, but sometimes voices are
heard when trying to set a “creepy” mood. It adds emotion and anticipation to
the game, fading in and out to emphasize moments of narrative significance (MacDonald). It set a mood that could not be
created by anything other than instrumental music. In this way, it works very
well within the story, but it can also stand alone as art. Lastly, the voiced over narrative is another layer
of artistry, in a literature sense. The voice creates a story through letters
to Esther, speaking in intelligent and carefully-crafted language. It uses
metaphors and complex descriptions, as well as alluding to ideas without
clearly stating them. These letters are the epitome of poetic language. The
mystery and scarcity of the pieces of the letters make them special. These two
aspects of the game create another layer of aesthetic pleasure, and therefore
add to the artistry.
Nevertheless,
there is more to art than the pleasing aesthetics. According to Marcuse, art
has the power of negation (Marcuse 63). It can make the observer realize
something about our world that could not have been realized through any other
medium. Dear Esther takes the player
on a journey that is both similar and dissimilar to the world we live in. The
first two chapters of the game are spent walking on the shore, something most
people have done in their lifetime. The walking pace is extremely life-like, as
well as the scenery that is experienced. This similarity breaks, though, when
they player cannot go certain places, like on a couple shipwrecked boats. If
the realness is not fully broken by these small roadblocks, it is completely
discarded by the beauty of the cave. Nothing in this world can compare to the
caves. These differences remind the player that there is a goal to be reached;
that they are actually playing a game. The similarities create the possibility
of players to find something in the game that relates to their own life.
Becoming completely engrossed in game-play, it is easy to experience the
narrative of the game as real. Once brought back to reality by the differences,
the player can reflect on how the story might have related to them. The player
experiences the story first hand, in a somewhat interactive and very
enthralling way. It can be frustrating that the only interactions are walking
and looking, but this is still submerging the player into the story. The player
is in control of what he or she looks at; it’s easy to miss something if the
player is not paying attention. Since looking and walking is all there is to
do, the game suggests that the experience of the game is in what is seen, not
what is done. In this way, it creates a need in the players to look around and
interpret the scenes. This is an act related to viewing art, and not necessarily
to playing a video game. The similarities to our world and the interactivity of
Dear Esther add another, more
complicated layer of art to the game; a layer that makes it art of negation.
Together,
the aesthetic and negating aspects of Dear
Esther create a piece of art in both the common and Marcusian sense. It’s
pleasing music, literature, and visuals have similarities to our world, but
also differences that make it more attractive and meaningful. In “One-Dimensional
Man”, Marcuse quotes Paul Valéry, “That which is ‘natural’ must assume the
features of the extraordinary. Only in this manner can the laws of cause and
effect reveal themselves” (Marcuse 67). The beauty as well as the medium of Dear Esther makes the player take pause.
Being a game, it forces the player to look around and try to understand his or
her surroundings. The dissociation of the real world and the world of Dear Esther creates an estrangement
effect in the player, bringing him or her out of their element enough to be
able to find bigger meanings in gameplay. The attributes that make Dear Esther aesthetically pleasing also
make it a better form of art in the Marcusian sense.
Works Cited and Consulted
MacDonald, Kenza. "Dear Esther Review." IGN.
N.p., 13 Feb. 2012. Web. 27 Feb. 2014.
Marcuse, Herbert. One-dimensional Man: Studies in
the Ideology of Advanced Industrial Society. Boston: Beacon, 1991. Print.
Pinsof, Allistair. "Review: Dear Esther." Destructoid.
N.p., 13 Feb. 2012. Web. 27 Feb. 2014.
Relying on Art to Entertain
Concluding
my personal experience playing the video game Dear Esther and after reading the reviews of others, I am inclined to
conclude that Dear Esther can be
considered a game but one that focuses on art more strongly to entertain the
players. In this paper, I argue that the
game contains all the necessary components to be classified as a video game but has a
much stronger presence of art than most other video games.
First, let us observe the definition
of a video game and see how it applies to the three games we have played so
far; Zork, Portal, and Dear Esther. Merriam-Webster’s
definition of a video game states that a video game is “an electronic game in
which players control images on a television or computer screen.” This definition obviously applies to all
three of the games, if in the case of Zork
the changing text is considered an image portrayed by the computer system to
the player. Merriam-Webster then defines
a game in general as “a physical or mental activity or contest that has rules
and that people do for pleasure.” Again this definition applies to all three
games. Mental activity is required to
interact with the games in a constructive manner to produce entertainment.
Next, let us consider the different
structures present within the games.
Both Zork and Portal rely heavily on player
interaction with the game environment to proceed through them to the end. In Zork
players must move around the text-represented world and interact with it to
progress by picking up items and finding treasure. Throughout Portal, players must continuously be engaged with their
environment, altering it with the portal gun to advance through the levels and
moving objects like blocks to activate doors.
However, in Dear Esther this
level of stimulus from the player is almost entirely absent. To completely finish the game the player
simply needs to hold down the ‘W’ key on the keyboard and direct the screen
with the mouse to discover the correct path to take by means of trial and
error. Finding the correct path is the
extremely minimal interaction with the environment that is present in Dear Esther, there are no items to
discover, enemies to defeat, or puzzles to solve.
Without the mental stimulus involved
with reacting to and manipulating the environment, Dear Esther engages the player with phenomenal visual stimulation
from the game environment to entertain the player. Zork completely
lack pictures and therefore does not present this form of entertainment to the
players, instead it relies on the interaction with the environment for
entertainment. Portal has visual stimulation but it does not rely on it for all of
its entertainment, instead it focuses more on the interaction with the
environment to make the game entertaining.
Since Dear Esther relies so
heavily on the visual stimulation of its environment to entertain the player,
the detail of the scenery had to stand out much more than other games. In short, the game had to develop into a more
prominent work of art in order to grasp and hold onto the player’s attention.
The screen shots above shows the
difference in graphical detail between Portal
and Dear Esther. It is clear that Dear Esther has much more detail and is more visually appealing
than Portal. There is more to consider, however, about
what makes Dear Esther stand out from
other games as having a stronger reliance on art to provide entertainment. As the player is wondering around, sometimes
a short narrative will begin. These
narratives are really rich in language and tell parts of a story to the
player. More and more about the story is
revealed as the player continues through the game. This literary tale is also a work of art that
engages the player to want to continue progressing in the game to learn more
about it. Short narratives by GLADoS are
present in Portal but they are from
the monotone voice of a computer and are simple descriptions of events that
occurred, they lack the intriguing rhetoric present in Dear Esther.
The reviews of Dear Esther all classify it as a game, but one that goes against the
current ideas of what a video game is.
Pinsof’s review of Dear Esther
articulates the same ideas portrayed previously in this paper. He states that while the game is indeed a
game because it has “rules and narrative triggers” it is less entertaining
because it lacks the interaction typically included in other games
(Pinsof). MacDonald from IGN observes
the game as a work of art used to tell a story and expresses his thoughts that
the game illustrates the idea that “games have plenty of directions left to explore”
(MacDonald). Here she is saying that Dear Esther provides a new direction for the world of gaming; interactive storytelling. Both reviews critique Dear Esther as lacking the interaction
with the environment typically seen in videogames but also find it entertaining
because of the immense graphical details of the game and the confusing yet
mentally stimulating narrative. In short, Dear
Esther is a game that attempts to entertain its players by thoroughly relying
on visual and literary art instead of the typical player interaction with the
game’s environment as seen in other video games.
References
Pinsof, Allistair. Review: Dear Esther. Destructoid. February 13, 2012.
Available: http://www.destructoid.com/review-dear-esther-221082.phtml
Keza, MacDonald. Dear Esther Review. IGN. February 13, 2012.
Available: http://www.ign.com/articles/2012/02/13/dear-esther-review
Merriam-Webster. Definitions for Video Game and Game.
Available: http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/video%20game
Availabe: http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/game
Dear Esther. Computer Game. (2012).
Portal. Computer Game. (2007).
An Artistic Endeavor
An Artistic Endeavor
Innovation is necessary in order to keep any genre of entertainment exciting for its consumers. Video games are certainly no exception. In recent years, more and more variations of games have surfaced – from simulation games such as Electronic Arts’ Sims to the motion activated Wii system by Nintendo. All of the advancements calls a certain question into examination: Where is the line drawn for a form of media to be considered a video game? The Chinese Room’s Dear Esther no doubt challenges the concept of the traditional video game. Dear Esther, through its minimal player interactivity and its beautiful visuals and story, it qualifies more as an art form and less as a video game.
To begin, the definition of a video game according to Dictionary.com is “any of various games played using a microcomputer with a keyboard and often joysticks to manipulate changes or respond to the action or questions on the screen” (Dictionary.com). However, there are no changes to manipulate during the entirety of Dear Esther. The only thing that the “player”, and I use that term loosely, is able to do is move north, west, east, or south. Allistair Pinsof puts it nicely in his review of Dear Esther that: “You literally hold down the “W”-key for 70 minutes -- even ducking, the only other action, is automatic”(Pinsof). Any reviewer could not call that a “manipulation” as there are no decisions involved. One might argue that a decision would be which direction to move in. This does not qualify as a decision because it does not alter gameplay and nothing happens as a consequence; it only gives a different view of the artistic world. Additionally, the player is not presented with what the definition of a video game calls “action or questions on screen”. In games that would qualify as “interactive fiction” such as the video game Zork by Infocom, the player consistently makes choices that impact gameplay, such as picking up items and using them to do various things such as fighting trolls or even simply pushing a button. All of these actions have a consequence. However, in Dear Esther, there are no consequences. The only argument I find could be made against this point is that if you go too far out into the water in Dear Esther, you drown and have to restart from the shore. Even this “consequence” is practically meaningless, as you lose no progress, only a minimal amount of time.
Further, since Dear Esther does not qualify as a game, what does it qualify as? Art, which is defined as “the quality, production, expression, or realm, according to aesthetic principles, of what is beautiful, appealing, or of more than ordinary significance” (Dictionary.com). To call the art of Dear Esther “beautiful” seems like an understatement. For example, examine this picture from the cave in Dear Esther:
(Dear Esther Cave Screenshot)
Keza MacDonald claims in her review of the game that, “You don't actually do anything except guide the invisible protagonist around the island, taking in the natural beauty of the coast and the startling luminescence of the underground caves.” On closer inspection of this screenshot, one sees that the ground is intricately inscribed with the small outlines of tiny rocks. Off into the distance, the artist has taken the time to draw the moon, bright and luminous, in the night sky. Every line is placed so perfectly that it looks as if this could be a professional painting hanging in someone’s living room.
Moreover, the writing in Dear Esther is exceptionally beautiful and certainly “more than ordinary significance”(Dictionary.com). The story is intricate and complicated one about the narrator who has lost his lover in a car accident and about various past residents of the island. The developers were able to focus more on the story since there is no actual gameplay, and it is written in beautiful prose with heart-stopping voice-overs that stuck with me such as “People moved at the summit but I could not tell if you were one of them” when the narrator is referring to his lover Esther (Dear Esther Wiki). He puts emphasis on the “you” when he speaks it, causing the player to hear the love in his voice that he harbors for Esther. Thus he is “expressing” something “of more than ordinary significance”: love (Dictionary.com). If actual gameplay would have been involved, then the significance of the story would have been minimized, and that is clearly not the direction that the developers wanted to take the game.
Overall, through the lack of interaction with the environment, but the beauty of the environment and story itself, Dear Esther has made its mark in media as more of an art form and less of a videogame. Although it does not qualify as a true video game, that does not mark it as a failure. Its beauty saves it and makes it into an even more unique experience than a video game could offer. That, in the end, makes the experience worthwhile.
Works Cited
"Art." Dictionary.com. Dictionary.com, n.d. Web. 27 Feb. 2014.
<http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/art?s=t>.
Dear Esther Cave Screenshot. Digital image. N.p., n.d. Web. 27 Feb. 2014.
<http://i1.ytimg.com/vi/1JmLG_hHmfY/maxresdefault.jpg>.
MacDonald, Keza. "Dear Esther Review." IGN. N.p., 13 Feb. 2012. Web. 27
Feb. 2014. <http://www.ign.com/articles/2012/02/13/dear-
esther-review>.
Pinsof, Allistair. "Review: Dear Esther." Destructoid. N.p., n.d. Web. 27 Feb.
2014. <http://www.destructoid.com/review-dear-esther-221082.phtml>.
"Video Game." Dictionary.com. Dictionary.com, n.d. Web. 27 Feb. 2014.
<http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/video%2Bgame?s=t>.
"Wikia." Dear Esther Wiki. N.p., n.d. Web. 27 Feb. 2014.
<http://dearesther.wikia.com/wiki/Dear_Esther_Script>.
Becoming A Character
Dennis Madden
Becoming A Character
Dear Esther is a breath
of fresh air in a world populated with fast paced ‘twitch games’ and mentally
taxing puzzlers. The unique presentation of a largely un-interactive world creates an environment in which we are not
playing a game, but instead, one in which we are
the game. By eliminating the reactionary overload imposed upon players by most
video games, Dear Esther allows us a greater deal of mental freedom to make the
game what we want it to be. When we are bogged down by an intricate story,
complicated HUDs, objective lists, and fast paced high-stakes scenarios, we are
forced to dedicate a large part of our cognition to simply fulfilling the game's
‘requirements’ instead of making it a personal experience. A quote from
Courtney’s reaction to Portal prompted this analysis: “I experienced having to take in a lot of
first-time learning as well as analysis all at once. Even after getting
somewhat used to the controls, I found myself getting sucked into the game and
overlooking the actual analysis I had been intending to evaluate as I went
along. Basically, I ended up playing most of it for fun without much thought as
it being for a critical analysis, which maybe says something about the game
itself or games in general” (Elvin).
Dear Esther on the other hand, offers us
essentially NO gameplay. Pinsof would even say “You better get used to it, because Dear Esther only has three things going for it: its writing,
music, and visuals” (Pinsof). So then, if Dear Esther lacks gameplay, what is its
purpose? I conclude that Dear Esther is less a ‘gaming’ experience, and more of
a ‘personal’ experience. The simple familiarity of Dear Esther’s construction
affords us the ability to seamlessly meld with our surroundings to become part
of the whole that we are inexorably linked with: the environment. “To summarize and elaborate: in a computer
game we can have some object or objects that we are in control of as game
players. We are agents acting upon them. There is a link between the game
player and the controllable object. This means that there is a social and
psychological link to this object that rest on motor activity. This link is
often so strong that the object in control ceases to be understood as an
external object to the game player but rather is understood as an integral part
of him or her while playing the game. This is what I call the tactile
motor/kinesthetic link. This link is the relation between perception, cognition
and action. It is the foundation for my model of a Game Ego” (Pivec 51).
Because Dear Esther utilizes such simple mechanics (walking), we can relate not
only on a mental level, but a kinetic level as well. In Dear
Esther, we are not subjected to alien worlds, physics defying machinery, or
unrealistic superpowers, all of which are unable to be kinetically experienced
by our human bodies in reality. Instead, we are given a setting where we can do
exactly what a true explorer would do: walk, observe, and infer. This
familiarity and believability is part of what makes it possible for players to ‘become’
the character in Dear Esther. MacDonald makes a great point: “If nothing else, Dear Esther presents
one of the most absorbing and believable worlds in gaming”. Becoming part of a realistic environment is facilitated by the simple mundane mechanics
of the human person. When Pinsof states “All you do in this game is
walk. You literally hold down the “W”-key for 70 minutes -- even ducking, the
only other action, is automatic”, I beg to ask if he’s ever been on a
backpacking trip, or even a hike for that matter. He clearly does not have the skills
necessary to ‘experience’ his surroundings.
As I (notice
I, not my character) wandered over the cliffs and through the caverns, I wrote
a story, guided by the stunning visuals and inspiring music. Whilst completing
Dear Esther, one is completely capable of composing their own somatosensory
masterpiece. If time is taken to personally experience the environment, a vast
amount of information can be ascertained. For example…
Neurotunnel
This
image is just one of which could foster hours of analysis. When I walked
through, I noticed that it contained no less than 5 distinct and
morphologically distinct types of neurons: multipolar, unipolar, bipolar, pseudo
unipolar and purkinje. On top of that, the electrical circuitry intricately
represents neurophysiological membrane models to a scary degree. Dopamine, a
reward related neuromodulator, was constructed with chemical accuracy and
strewn across the walls, along with ethanol. This scene, coupled with my embodiment
in the character, dropped my jaw in a way that might represent my reaction to
this scene in real life. I felt the walls and the cool, damp atmosphere of the
cave. The glowing symbols shone in my eyes, and when I plunged into a pool, I
felt the cool water envelop me. This experience could only be supported by a program
which does not demand me to utilize complicated mechanics or unrealistic
concepts. I ‘felt’ Dear Esther, I was there, because all Dear Esther asked of
me was to be myself.
References
Elvin, C. (2014). Narrative And Technology Blog.
Retrieved from
http://pitt-narr-and-tech.blogspot.com/2014/02/commentsquestions-on-portal-marcuse.html
MacDonald, K. (2012). IGN. Retrieved from
http://www.ign.com/articles/2012/02/13/dear-esther-review
Pinsof, A. (2012). Destructoid. Retrieved
from http://www.destructoid.com/review-dear-esther-221082.phtml
Pivec, M. (2006). Affective and Emotional Aspects
of Human-Computer Interaction. Amsterdam: IOS Press.
Prompt 2: Interpretive Truth in One-Dimensional Man and Dear Esther
Dear Esther does for video games what Marcuse’s One-Dimensional Man does for society, as each consciously acknowledges and challenges the norms of the respective field. Marcuse fundamentally questions the way the world thinks, and Dear Esther fundamentally questions what it means to tell a narrative through a video game. Marcuse’s line of questioning the idea of truth resonates tones found in Dear Esther. While Dear Esther is not a completely transcendent from one-dimensional thought, it approaches the notion of a less traditional story.
The appreciation of the choices in Dear Esther in the context of One-Dimensional Man first requires a fundamental understanding of Marcuse’s assertions on truth and its perceived limitations. He argues that the world as perceived by the individual necessitates interpretation and transformation to fully understand what it is (Marcuse 93). He asserts that the truth is assigned to a condition based on the term “‘intuition,’ i.e., a form of cognition in which the object of thought appears clearly as that which it really is (in its essential qualities).” as seen in Classic Greek philosophy. Marcuse goes on to say, “It is not a mysterious faculty of the mind, not a strange immediate experience, nor is it divorced from conceptual analysis. Intuition is rather the (preliminary) terminus of such an analysis -- the result of methodic intellectual mediation. As such, it is the mediation of concrete experience” (Marcuse 94-95). Essentially, to Marcuse, the truth is mental analysis and transformation of that which is experienced concretely.
As far as video games go, Dear Esther is a strong example of Marcuse’s idea of an unsure truth, or at least an interpretive truth. The music and the narration of the game is presented in a selective and semi-randomized way. While the monologues from the narrator are fixed to appear within one of four levels of the game, there are countless combinations of pieces of the story that the player could receive, leaving the others not to be presented during that gameplay at all. Game creator, Dan Pinchbeck, says, “I was really interested in what people made of it, how they joined up these dots that may not actually have any grand scheme behind them. How much they will create a story from all these pieces, where I only have limited control over how they fit together” (Pinchbeck). The entirety of the story is up for debate depending on how each individual playthrough is interpreted because of the distinctly fractured presentation of select pieces of information.
In that respect, Dear Esther is a conceptual example of Marcuse’s arguments on interpretation of concrete experience. The game challenges the traditional format of a linear plot to one that embraces the idea of ambiguity that can only be resolved by individual intuition. Pinchbeck explains, “this place was almost beyond a direct answer, that you’d never really get there, but be left with these pieces that almost make sense, but you’re never fully sure of it” (Pinchbeck). This game is both frustrating and enlightening to players (arguably in the way that Marcuse’s work is), as it encourages them to extend the realm of how a video game or any other form can tell a narrative.
Another layer of ambiguity comes into play when the reliability of the narrator is questioned. Yes, the game is played from a first-person perspective, and that does play a role in the experience, but the narration comes from an unknown source and unknown character. Even the creator admits, “You are almost as in the dark at the end as at the beginning, or at least, you can’t trust any of the understanding you’ve developed over the course of it” (Pinchbeck). In the third level the narrator describes, in one of the possible narrations, that he “swallow(s) fistfuls of diazepam and paracetamol to stay conscious” (Dear Esther, The Caves) even referencing his “delirium” in another passage. He describes feeling “almost lucid” in the fourth level, and describes times of blindness from the pain (Dear Esther, The Beacon). The fact that the narrator is under the influence of an unregulated number of painkillers supports the idea that his narration may not be so reliable. Among other potential factors including grief, hallucinations, or even lack of existence altogether, the narration cannot be taken completely seriously. However, according to Marcuse, individual analysis of concrete experience of the player creates an interpretation that can be the truth. Pinchbeck agrees, stating: “I think you can go through Dear Esther and not really understand it, not really have a clear sense of what happened, but still have this engaging experience” (Pinchbeck).
The overlap between Marcuse’s One-Dimensional Man and Dear Esther brings up some very complicated ideas of truth and reality. Marcuse addresses: “Thus there is contradiction rather than correspondence between dialectical thought and the given reality; the true judgment judges this reality not in its own terms, but in terms which envisage its subversion. And in this subversion, reality comes into its own truth” (Marcuse 98). His ideas and definitions of how one’s truth should be interpreted echo in the way that Dear Esther presents a narrative. The presentation is unconventional and fragmented, often making little sense, but it’s about the intangible experience of questioning vs. acceptance that the player takes away from the game, which is intended to be an individually distinct experience.
Works Cited
1. "Dear Esther Script." Dear Esther Wiki. N.p., n.d. Web. 26 Feb. 2014.
2. Marcuse, Herbert. One-Dimensional Man. Boston: Beacon, 1964. PDF.
3. Pinchbeck, Dan. "Moved By Mod -- Dear Esther's Dan Pinchbeck." Interview by Phill Cameron. Gamasutra: The Art and Business of Making Games. UBM Tech, 1 July 2009. Web. 26 Feb. 2014. <http://www.gamasutra.com/php-bin/news_index.php?story=24217>.
Dear Esther as Art
Dear Esther as Art
In
essence, “Dear Esther” by thechineseroom is an interactive fiction that uses a
video game platform to attempt to simulate the universe of the guilty and depressed.
The beauty of “Dear Esther” has earned it well-deserved awards and accolades
for its creative style. “Dear Esther” is a work of art because of the ability
is has to invoke an emotional response among engaged players, but does so by
rejecting the typical video game format.
Marcuse, in One Dimensional Man, explains art through
events such as attending opera and theater that are elevated above normal life.
Further, he states that to prepare for artistic experiences, “attendance requires
festival-like preparation,” (Marcuse, 64). From my own personal experience, briefly
testing “Dear Esther” before engaging in its entirety provided me with
expectations and an idea of the best way to use “Dear Esther” for its purpose.
I found myself going through personal rituals before beginning the “Dear Esther”
experience. This ritual was vastly different than that of preparing for opera.
The rituals involved eliminating all other sensory input other than “Dear
Esther,” including playing in seclusion and quiet. While this may be different
than preparing for a “high society,” event, it still was preparing for an
elevation from normal life. I was allowing myself to be elevated above sitting
in a room watching a performance, permitting thorough engagement.
But to accept
that the preparations were for art, not just an impressive video game, it is
necessary to define art, and argue that “Dear Esther” fits the definition. Art
is an aesthetically pleasing creation that has emotional weight behind it.
While an artist may create their art for their own purpose, the observer gives
the real meaning to their works. Their connection with art is what gives it
meaning. Good art is clear enough to allow observer to focus their attention,
but they give the inanimate life by imposing their own thoughts upon the
physical. “Dear Esther” does this through the most impressive world generation I
have seen from game designers, poetic narration from a depressed diary, and a
masterful music score. The vague background that develops over the play-through
gives readers the perfect amount of information to instill empathy with the
narrator. But the lack of clear details is what allows the beholder to impress
their own feeling on the game, and experience an emotion that few have
experienced: the raw guilt of feeling
responsible for a loved-one’s death.
With
this in mind, classifying “Dear Esther” as a game is destructive to the
fundamental purpose of its creation. The Destructoid review by Allistair Pinsof
perceives this as a game, which causes their grievances with the game aspect. “Yes,
this game is dull. And, yes, it is a game,” (Pinsof, 4). Pinsof does not shy
from hyperboles of the art’s beauty, but question its medium. Understanding
that “Dear Esther” is not a game to be “played” per se is critical to total immersion and meditation with the art.
The player (for lack of a better word) is only allowed to appreciate the beauty
of “Dear Esther” by becoming the narrator: a guilt-stricken, lonely, depressed
romantic who is allowed to just wander the beach and caves of a beautiful
island. When the game is “played,” the player’s only experience is “progress[ing]
through movement alone and the goal is to see the end,” (Pinsof, 2). A far more
fulfilling experience may be had with “Dear Esther” when the player has a
different expectation than the one described.
IGN
reviewer Keza McDonald is much more inclined to shy from calling “Dear Esther”
a game. “Dear Esther asks nothing of you
but to occupy this world.” “You are led without ever really feeling like you
are being led, by visual cues that stand out against the landscape and draw you
towards them,” (McDonald, 2-3). This review describes the artistic ability of the
designers to catch the user’s attention with emotionally charged imagery, and
direct you. While this reviewer does appear to have deep appreciation for the
art, they (for the sake of preventing spoilers) fail to express the created
beauty. By realizing there is nothing to “achieve,” the player allows their
consciousness to wander along a beach and create an emotional connection with
the art. The Rock Paper Shotgun review by Alec Meer was able to exact the
feelings that “Dear Esther” instills. “Dear Esther is, in a very real sense,
boring. It is supposed to be. Lonely tedium, that slow, slow walk through a
stark land, leads to subconscious introspection,” (Meer, 2). You are meant to
feel lonely and pensive as you progress towards no goal grand goal. Liberating “Dear
Esther” from its tag as a video game lends the user to walk through this
introspection of reflective guilt.
Appreciation
for “Dear Esther” as art is instigated by accepting that it tries to distance
itself from video game characteristics in order to allow the user experience an
emotional reflection. As an experimental form of medium for a video game
setting to express art, the potential is created for an immersing,
multi-facetted piece of artwork.
Marcuse, Herbertt. One Dimensional Man. Boston.1962. Beacon Press
MacDonald, Keza.
"Dear Esther Review." IGN. N.p., 13 Feb 2012. Web. 27 Feb 2014.
Pinsof,
Allistair. "Review: Dear Esther." Destructoid. N.p., 13 Feb 2012.
Web. 27 Feb 2014.
Meer, Alec.
"What I Alternatively Think: Dear Esther." Rock, Paper, Shotgun.
N.p., 15 Feb 2012. Web. 27 Feb 2014.
Dear Esther: An Artistic Pseudo-Game
Dear Esther is not a game in a
traditional sense of the word. A game is
most simply defined as a, “form of play according to rules and decided by
skill, strength or luck.” (Google) The lack of alignment with this definition
comes in the physical “play” and how it is decided, in the case of a videogame,
by, “manipulating images produced by a computer program.” (Google) Despite
this, Dear Esther offers the viewer of these images, something different,
something unique in which, “there’s really not much else like it.” (Indie
Nation 63) It is not an interactive game, but a surreal experience that can be
described as a mobile story. The construction
of Dear Esther is an art, and the gameplay, or lack there of, is to navigate
this mysterious environment and narration to discover. Therefore, Dear Esther is a piece of art in
which simplistic game play runs through for it’s comprehensive view. It is an artistic pseudo-game.
In a review, of what I will from now
on deem an artistic pseudo-game, Keza MacDonald notes that, “Dear Esther asks
nothing of you but to occupy this world,” and, “if you’re at all interested in
exploring what games can do outside of the traditional genre templates, Dear
Esther offers an unforgettable two hours…” An island of magnificent grandeur
offering more than meets the eye defines the world of Dear Esther. The art lies in the construction of the
environment controls the ambiance of the entire progression through what can be
considered the art exhibit. It is
physical in the mountain, and the great caves of wondrous luminescence, but also
metaphorically represented in the aw of the body, and it’s relationship to the
soul. The narrator says, “I am traveling
through my own body, following the line of infection from the shattered femur
towards the heart. I swallow fistfuls of
painkillers to stay lucid.” The caves
are the blood vessels, covered in microbes that light the way of travel, others
riddles with crystals in the walls, relating to the narrators kidney stones of
which it is noted, “when I first looked into the shaft, I swear I felt the
stones in my stomach shift in recognition.” The walls of the caves are covered
with organic molecule representations of the painkillers in his system, and
vast circuits and neuronal cells, some connected to nothing, a depiction of
severed synapses. There is little to no
distinction of character between the narrator and Donnelly, noted at the
conclusion of the pseudo-game adventure through the art, not knowing if
Donnelly or himself had made the island and the markings, but knowing that
Donnelly, “became his syphilis, retreating into the burning synapses, the
stones, the infection,” like that of the narrator. The viewer thus becomes these personified
depictions, no longer from an external source, but also the navigator of the
environment himself, just as one becomes when staring deeply at a painting,
walking through an exhibit, or in virtual reality constructions. This is engaging above all, coupled with
music that, “fades in and out with exquisite timing to emphasize moments of
narrative significance,”
(MacDonald). In this perfect
coupling of music, narration, and movement along the flowing landscape, there
is significant thought into what this experience is and should be: an
expression of a person, or people beautifully crafted as an art in the form of
a full-body [out of body] emersion to by the hands of the programmers, to
incite feeling and emotion. Dear Esther
is art physically, metaphorically, and emotionally ground.
The artistic world is then open for
investigation and innovation. The
simplicity of such highlights the artistry of that world for all that it’s
worth. It is not game-play because there
is no interaction with the parts of the environment with no skill nor goal to
reach. Objects are not meant to be
disturbed so as not to alter the overall exhibit. The “play,” metaphorically, is the flipping
of the page in the story by walking through the exhibit, like a maze. It is not traditional due to the, “stripping
out most interaction, combat, and immediate threat.” (Pinsof) The choices have
already been laid out for the person in charge of manipulation. “You can explore this world with your own
eyes. You can also explore parts that
aren’t worth exploring.” (Pinsof) Though the artistic assemblage provides but
one means to the progression through the work, it’s wonder in engagement
propels you to look into avenues that are subconsciously known to yield no
further progress. They are important
however, because they can provide information and confusion, thus adding more
to the construction as a whole. This is
exactly why the “game-play” is so simplistic.
The pseudo-game itself is discovery within the context of the artistic
world. Walking to unfold the story, just
as examining other physical artworks in a museum, doesn’t always amount to
enlightenment initially, as is such in the deviations from the “correct path.” The
“play,” physically, is a slow walk to take in the scenery, and to make the
ascension to the final stage, when the soul is freed from the body and takes
flight. The control of movement only
comes in finding this final event. The
loss of control once the end is reached is artistically symbolic as all the
previous unfolding had been. There was
never meant to be a vast game-play.
There was only meant to be the subtle confusion of finding your way
walking through a winding maze to uncover scenery and facts amounting to the
end of flight. The facile limitation of
movement is purposeful and empowering to the expanse of the atmospheric
presentation.
Though Dear Esther might not necessarily be something that
avid gamers would show any interest in, it is noteworthy. It is an artistic expression and a visual
auditory experience most “true games” lack.
Its goal is not to aimlessly kill people for no reason, to score a goal,
or to overthrow power. It is purely an
occurrence of exposition and revelation that is discounted for what it isn’t
rather than revered for what it is. Dear
Esther is a flowing modern-day work of art.
Works Cited:
Google. Definition of Game. 2014
Google.
Definition of VideoGame. 2014
Indie Nation
63. “Dear Esther.” 29 May 2009. Web http://www.destructoid.com/indie-
nation-63-dear-esther-133816.html
MacDonald,
Keza. “Dear Esther Review”. 13 February 2012. Web. http://www.ign.com
/articles/2012/02/13/dear-esther-review
Pinsof,
Allistair. “Review: Dear Esther”. 13 Febraury 2012. Web.
http://www.destructoid.com/review-dear-esther-221082.phtml
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