Many computer games are structured as “upgrade narratives”. Your avatar wanders around in a fanciful world visiting far-off lands, going on quests and slaying demons, while gradually accumulating powers, tools and assorted weaponry. This basic structure pertains whether the game is a single player experience or a massively multiplayer shared world that contains millions of other participants.
Sometimes there are variants. For example in the “Half Life” universe, demons are replaced by monstrous aliens from another dimension. But that is merely a narrative flourish. The core idea stays the same — go around solving tests of skill and coordination, while gradually amassing the tools of power that let you “level up” so that you can take on progressively greater challenges.
Of course none of this is essentially different from the old games of “Adventure” and “Zork” from thirty five years ago. Except that now we have graphics rather than text. But the basic idea is the same: Whatever the quest or battle or other challenge, you’re going for those upgrades, that potion of invisibility, laser death ray, cloak of invulnerability or Scroll of Truth that will give you greater powers, so that you can take on other interesting challenges.
It was only today that I realized that this narrative structure is a perfect description of “The Wizard of Oz”, where the reward for successfully battling evil is a shiny new brain, or new heart, or infusion of courage. Of course Frank L. Baum was going for irony — the supposedly brainless Scarecrow was endlessly clever and resourceful, the Tin Man had enough heart for three adventurers, and the Cowardly Lion was as able as his companions to see the adventure through to the end.
But perhaps that precise point is the reason we enjoy upgrade narratives, when they are presented as computer games. It is not that we seek what we don’t have, but rather we seek what we already value and understand. Only the warrior truly values a better gun, just as only the spy truly values a cloak of invisibility.
I think we enjoy these structures because they reflect what we know to be true in our own lives: We seek what we are. It is not the unknown that we look for, when we go looking for adventure, but rather the possibility of finding ourselves.
Some games allow us to find ourselves better than others. One developer who consistently makes attempts at giving us a glimpse at ourselves is Peter Molyneux. The game Black & White gave us the opportunity to be a “good” or “evil” god, or somewhere in-between (assuming those are the only dimensions). His Fable series (I & II) allow you to play as “good” or “evil”, or somewhere in between, and see the effects of that upon the world and people around you.
I always want to play these games as evil, because it is something I’d never do in real life, but am never able to fully commit. I usually play through as good and then try to play through as evil…I’m never able to sustain it. In real life, I’m very much a people pleaser, it turns out in virtual life, I’m a 1’s and 0’s pleaser.
Yes, good observation. Peter is a wonderful and very thoughtful game developer.
I wonder whether an evil person would always want to play “Black & White” as a good character — because it is something they never get to do in real life. 😉