game
The relationship between "game" and media is multifaceted.
Most obviously, games NEST other media (e.g., speech, numbers, graphic
images, writing etc.) within themselves. But,
as we shall see, games are themselves media that encode information within
their structures. Furthermore, a case might be made that all media are,
in some sense, games.
The OED gives a variety of definitions for the word "game." The
most commonly understood meanings are: "an amusement, diversion, pastime;" and "a
diversion of the nature of a contest, played according to rules, and displaying
in the result the superiority either in skill, strength, or good fortune
of the winner or winners." But it also includes such contradictory
definitions as "the proper method of playing; correct play" and "'dodges',
tricks." It is also slang for such professions of ill-repute as "thieving,
housebreaking" and "prostitution."
Marshall McLuhan defined games as "extensions, not of
our private but of our social selves... Games are situations contrived to
permit simultaneous participation of many people in some significant pattern
of their own corporate lives." (McLuhan 245) While this definition ignores
solitary games (like Solitaire or many video games), its emphasis on the
participatory nature of game is reminiscent of its etymological antecedent
of the word, the Gothic gaman, meaning "participation, communion." (OED)
At the most basic level, then, all games require participants
performing some actions -- a game is a practice. Essential
to any understanding of game, therefore, is its relationship to "play." Our
primary means of interacting with a game is by playing; it could even be
argued that simple observation of a game entails a close identification
with the players. It is a matter of theoretical debate, however, whether
there is a qualitative difference between "play" and "game." Is all
play game, and are all games play? For example, kittens and babies seem
to play, but should their play be considered games? On the opposite side,
certain games (such as war games or World Cup soccer matches) may not be "playful," but
are rather deadly serious to all those involved.
One influential theorist on the relationship of play and game was Roger Callois.
Building upon the work of Johan Huizinga (who will be discussed shortly), in Man,
Play, and Games Callois proposed a useful system of classifying
games. Aside from dividing games into four categories ( agon , or
competition; alea, or chance; mimicry,
or simulation, and ilinx, or the inducement of vertigo), he also
outlined a spectrum of ascending complexity of structure. At the zero of the
axis is paidia, which he defines as:
a word covering the spontaneous
manifestations of the play instinct: a cat entangled in a ball of wool, a dog
sniffing, and an infant laughing at his rattle represent the first identifiable
examples of this type of activity. It intervenes in every happy exuberance
which effects an immediate and disordered agitation, an impulsive and easy
recreation, but readily carried to excess, whose impromptu and unruly character
remains its essential if not unique reason for being (Callois 27-8)
These most basic irruptions of the play instinct are typically
what we mean when we use the word "play." As we move up the axis toward ludus ,
however, play becomes more structured, and conventions, techniques, and
rules appear. At the far end of the axis, where ludus completely
overtakes paidia , these rules and structures become the sole
object of play, and "the pleasure experienced in solving a problem arbitrarily
designed for this purpose... intervenes, so that reaching a solution has
no other goal than personal satisfaction for its own sake." Thus
games such as chess are closer to ludus than paidia on
Callois' spectrum; so we might, as has often been suggested, think of "game" as
structured "play."
This model of ascending levels of structure is echoed by developmental psychologist
L.S. Vygotsky. Play is not necessarily marked by joy or pleasure; rather, it
springs from the need to fulfill desires or needs that can not be met. To resolve
the tension of unfulfillable desires, he writes, "the preshool child enters
an imaginary, illusory world in which the unrealizable desires can be realized,
and this world is what we call play." (Vygotsky 93) The existence of an imaginary
situation is thus a key defining characteristic of play. In the course of the
child's development, her play becomes more and more structured as it becomes
less dominated by the imaginary situation outlined above to being primarily
dominated by rules regarding the relationship of meaning to objects and actions.
These rules detach the usual meanings from objects and actions and replace
them with new ones -- thus a stick can become a horse or a hairbrush become
a pistol. Rules apply in every play-action, Vygotsky argues: "There is
no such thing as play without rules. The imaginary situation of any form of
play already contains rules of behavior, although it may not be a game with
formulated rules laid down in advance." (Vygotsky 94) Or, as Johan Huizinga
points out, even puppies "keep to the rule that you shall not bite, or shall
not bite hard, your brother's ear." (Huizinga 1) If all play has structure
and rules -- however implicit or covert -- this would seem to greatly
collapse the distinction between play and game into game/play.
The function of the rules of game/play is to provide the structure or skeleton
for the imaginary world of the game. According to Johan Huizinga, one of the
primary characteristics of play is that it is limited in time (it must begin
and end) and in space (it occurs within a "play-ground" demarcated either physically
or ideally - the gameboard, the stage, the playing field). These temporal and
spatial boundaries are created by the rules of the particular type of
game/play being participated in. Inside the boundaries constructed by the rules
of game/play, "an absolute and peculiar order reigns," (Huizinga 10)
an order that may or may not resemble the world of not-play. So, for example,
certain pieces in the world of chess may only be moved in certain directions,
whereas nothing constrains their movement in the world of not-play. In order
to play the game, participants must accept and abide by the rules and structures
of the imaginary world; or, as Vygotysky would have it, they must separate
actions and objects from their everyday meanings
and accept the new situational relationships posited by the game.
According to Gregory Bateson, these relationships are essentially ones of paradox.
The statement "This is play" means "These actions in which we now engage do
not denote what these actions for which they stand would denote." (Bateson
180) The entrance into the play-world establishes a paradoxical frame, in which
map-territory relations are both equated and discriminated. The statement "This
is play," then, is a metacommunicative device which allows the receiver both
to distinguish between messages which are are "meant" and those which simulate
the action of "meaning" and simultaneously to accept them. (Bateson 188-990)
The world of game/play thus exists within and interacts with the world of not-play.
As such, it is also a form of discourse that communicates ideas about the world
outside the play-ground, since the structures of a game embody or encode
certain assumptions about the way that the world of not-play is (as "Monopoly" recreates
a merciless capitalist economy) or should be (the utopia of "Candyland"). In
this way games are themselves media for conveying ideas about the world of
not-play. Thus games become an important mechanism for the socialization of
children (as in "playing house") and the maintenance of society (baseball as
the "national pastime") -- extensions, as McLuhan argued, of our corporate
selves.
We might go even further and suggest that not only are games media, but that
all media are in some sense games. Huizinga, for example, seems to suggest
that nearly all media are rooted in the play impulse. Huizinga discusses language,
poetry, art, philosophy, dance, and theater, but I see no reason not to include
film, television, radio, and so on in this category. All media seem, like games,
to have their own set of structures or rules for interepretating or decoding
them. Furthermore, most media seem to establish the paradoxical relation between
map and territory suggested of game by Bateson - writing both is and is not
speech, graphic representations both are
and are not the objects they represent, sound recordings both are and are not "real," and
so on.
Aaron Rester
History of Religions
Divinity School
Winter 2003