The only way to get the industry to take risks on games that explore the missing themes of human experience
— heartbreak, betrayal, anticipation, jealousy, despair, eternal hope, grief, and so many others— is to nurture students who are inspired and who are capable of inspiring others with their vision…. If academics can help instill inspiration, then the industry will find itself compelled by its undeniable humanity to take risks on unpredictably useful projects. And I’ll bet many of those projects will also become massive commercial successes.So what’s the downside? This is a long-term project. I cannot commit to a return-on-investment proposition for inspiration, for talent, for art. This isn’t just about reaping convenient rewards from university-funded experimental projects, getting cheap labor through internships, or plucking brilliant designers out of short-term certificate programs. —Ian Bogost —The Muse of the Video Game (IGDA)
The Muse of the Video Game
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That brings up a very interesting point, which is where game studies falls in this criticism/craft divide.
The narratology/ludology debate, for example, would seem to fall into the criticism side of academic positioning. After all, whether or not there is a sufficient taxonomy for a given game to fit into the established genre structure has no bearing, really, on the ability of the developers to produce it.
On the other side of the coin are those who propose specific actions within the field of game development, as with the above story on pushing for a more complex emotional palette for gaming. That seems solidly in the craft wheelhouse, so to speak.
However, while it is often the case that the best critics have no experience in the production of the material they critique, it is rarely the best teachers of craft who have none.
While this is not a hard and fast rule, by any stretch, and there are certainly counter-examples, it is a cautionary note that should be struck. Unless and until those involved in game studies seriously work with the development process (and perhaps the developers themselves), any proposals for how to go about making games remain in the realm of theory.
In the meantime, as a nascent field of study, those involved in game studies should, perhaps, strive to identify where their work falls in the criticism/craft divide.
As someone who has both the criticism background and the craft experience, I am perhaps more sensitive than most to casual elision of the divide.
Eyejinx.
My apologies if I disrupted the formatting. One arena I am not familiar with is blogging.
Interesting thoughts, Eyejinx. I think academia can inspire in many different ways.I don’t think that the purpose of teaching models to creative writers is in order to enforce those old models, but rather to let the writers understand fully what they are breaking away from if they choose to break away from traditional models.You’re very right about the difference between consumer and producer, but you may have picked on the wrong English department! ;) All my English colleagues teach in the “Writing Popular Fiction” MA program here at Seton Hill, which is specifically marketed to fans of genre fiction (science fiction, fantasy, horror, romance) who want to learn how to produce it themselves. While the program relies heavily on hiring full-time writers (or at least, people who aren’t full-time academics) to teach some of the courses, my English colleagues are all researchers and teachers in the field.I don’t know what your background is, Eyejinx, but English handles the “critic/producer” divide by having a branch of English called “literary studies” or “literary criticism” (or often just “Literature,”) where we learn about literature, and “creative writing”, where the goal is to produce it. Then there are the ones who take English because not because they want to be the next R. K. Rowling or Stephen King, but because they want to make a living in journalism or technical writing (while possibly continuing to do creative writing on the side).
I would be very cautious of the logical turn “If academics can help instill inspiration, then the industry will…”. Is it, after all, the purpose of the English department to influence the production of writers? Or of the Sociology department to re-structure the social body? History suggests that the work of those who seek to match production to academic models is among the least inspired and valuable.
There are very good reasons why the study of a field and its practitioners are most often separated; they have different goals, methods, and even languages. While there are exceptional individuals who can cross that line successfully, these are exceptions.
One of the dangers around game studies currently is that it is still all too often propped up by the fantasy of crossing that line from consumer to producer. How many students sign up for courses in game studies in hopes of becoming the next great game designer? On the other hand, how many students become English majors in hopes of becoming the next great author?
FWIW.
Hey, why do you think arty Lit and Drama students are famous for wearing black all the time? In Ian’s defense, his list does include “eternal hope,” but I agree this list is a bit dark. Not at all like the emotions one feels when one is fragged in a player-vs-player combat game. Yeah, that’s lofty emotion for you! ;)
“heartbreak, betrayal, anticipation, jealousy, despair, eternal hope, grief”
Jeez. That’s just what we need (rolls eyes). More depressing crap. I’ve already got a name for the new genre – Soap Opera Games.