Connie Cordon – Blog Post #1 – Play Theory

The idea of a “magic circle” in Bogost text Play Anything (2016) resonates with me at my current part-time job at a grocery store.

Working customer service, one is always preoccupied with the idea of how to derive pleasure in a monotonous, emotionally performative, and labor-inducing job that rarely requires challenging to stimulating work. Most interactions with customers are based on chance at a fixed time and space; specifically, two hours scheduled on an assigned register during an 8-hour work-shift.

One of few challenges one is more likely to face in that scenario involve an argumentative customer, who wishes to complain about whatever issues they are dealing with outside of my control. Because of that, most interactions with customers are assessed by 5-second judgements I conceive pre-interaction. Questions I try to assess quickly include “Do they look like they’re in a hurry? Do they have earphones on? Do they want me to paper bag everything because they live close-by? Do they want me to bag groceries in two-evenly distributed paper-bags to ease their arms as they walk home? Do they want me to bag all the heavy grocery items into their reusable bag because they’re taking a car to their final destination? Am I gonna get snarked at because I didn’t tie up the egg carton with a produce bag? Am I gonna get snarked at because I didn’t spray hand sanitizer on each hand before handling their produce?”

For mental stimulation, I practice a form of Tetris while bagging the groceries. All frozen items in one separate bag, with raw meat layered in between bags of frozen peas or berries. Produce that is easily bruised will be packed on top of sturdier items, like canned beans, or boxed muffin-mixes. Small snacks, such as granola bars or peanut-butter cups, are left for last, as a courtesy for the customer, who probably bought the $0.99 impulse candy as a reward to be immediately consumed after the transaction is complete. Triangle-shaped cheeses are placed next to each other so their angles perfectly line up. Bags of leafy-greens and delicate tortilla chips are placed on top, to avoid damaging the delicate chips, or smushing the soft leaves. The rules to grocery-bagging were never taught, only enforced to let the time go by quicker. I heard the phrase “packing each grocery bag like an intricate, special gift” on a podcast from an over-enthusiastic grocer, describing the pleasure they receive from carefully doing this monotonous practice. At first I judged her, but now I get it.

Another ‘game’ I play involves the interaction with the customer during this limited, rehearsed interaction we experience together. It relates to Callois’ definition of alea, in that–

“Chance determines the distribution of the hands dealt to each player, and the players then play the hands that blind luck has assigned to them as best as they can.” –pg. 18

Each customer sent is not by my choice; therefore I must adapt to each situation differently. If I get the impression a customer feels slightly more engaged to small-talk, I start guessing what kinds of topics or humor they’d be more receptive to. Some interactions result in deeper, yet slightly uncomfortable information being passed around. While engaging with an older, male customer, he felt it was appropriate to disclose his suicide attempt to me following a distressing episode of depression. Another woman was shopping with her toddler, while holding onto a pair of crutches to ease walking with a heavy cast around her ankle. She informed me her husband is waiting outside in the car, hinting that the cast around her leg was a result of physical abuse on his end. I offered her help to her car, as she anticipated being scolded by her husband for buying “too many” groceries for the family, and I wanted to make sure another person was present to avoid any verbal altercation that would ensue between the both of them.

Bogost states in Play Anything (2016) that

“Frustration is one way of interpreting the difference between what I wanted and what lawns do. Another way is to acknowledge that the world is outside my head rather than within it.” –pg. 16

As a way to cope with long, monotonous working hours, I find myself observing customers and coworkers alike, assessing each interaction as a sort-of game, which the objective always is: “How do I avoid uncomfortable interactions or confrontations? How do I de-escalate a situation which has never escalated in the first place? What kind of stress would they be under that could cause me stress? Do they not want to make eye contact with me because they’re shy, they’re in a hurry, or they simply are a rude customer? Is there any miscommunications I played on my part that could have contributed to this disagreement?” Trying to imagine a strangers inner world and conflicts outside of my own has become a coping mechanism to avoid taking rude or demeaning behavior personally. It also allows me to engage in what Caillois terms as mimicry, in which I am the performer, delighted by the sheer presence of the customer, and driven by the idea of success being dependent on how well this contrived interaction will play out.

“…it consists in the actor’s fascinating the spectator, while avoiding an error that might lead the spectator to break the spell. The spectator must lend himself to the illusion without first challenging the decor, mask, or artifice which for a given time he is asked to believe in as more real than reality itself.” –pg. 23

Learning to Play Pinball as It Is, Rather Than How I Wish It Were

“Fun comes from the attention and care you bring to something that imposes arbitrary, often boring, even cruel limitations on what you—or anyone—can do with them. Worldly limitations impose a new and welcome humility, for they force us to treat things as they are rather than as we wish them to be” (Play Anything, pages 13–14). Wow, Ian Bogost, did I need to hear this as I get ready for another season of pinball league. In previous seasons I’ve been way too hard on myself, getting easily frustrated and mad at tables and at myself when I don’t play as well as I think I should, but I’ve been working on being kinder to myself and trying to remember that I like playing pinball because it’s fun. All of the limitations are what makes it fun! Even the cruel ones.

So Bogost got me wondering: What is pinball’s playground? Most pinball tables have a vertical backbox, where your scores are displayed, and a horizontal cabinet that encloses the playfield, where the action happens. At first glance, it’s tempting to think of the playfield as interchangeable with the playground, but, especially on newer tables, there can be interactive elements happening on the backbox display. Even more fundamental though, you the player are playing by using the launch button or plunger and the flipper buttons, all attached on the outside of the machine, so the cabinet holding the playfield becomes more liminal than its straight edges imply. Without you playing it, the machine does nothing, so you and where you stand must also be part of the playground. So how big a playground do you need? It’s hard to say, but you’ll know right away when you don’t have enough of it. When you really get into a game, you may find yourself moving your body along with the flippers—swinging your hips, bouncing up and down, even kicking your legs out. Or maybe you just don’t want someone hovering right next to you, pulling your peripheral vision away from the table. At some venues the tables are so close to each other, you’ll actually find your flippering fingers getting entangled with the person playing next to you. It’s less than ideal.

Reading Huizinga’s discussion of a “spoil-sport” got me wondering about tilting. Pinball tables have an internal level, and if you play too rough and move the table to much, the table will tilt: the lights will change—going dim or even going off—and you’ll usually hear a very sad sound and the music will stop. The “magic circle” is broken. On most newer tables it means the end of your ball, but on some of the older tables, it means the end of your entire game, regardless of how many balls you had left to play. Many players will play physically, strategically nudging, even sliding tables to get the shot they want or keep the ball from draining. Does that make them spoil-sports or even cheaters? The feature is built into all of the tables—the operator can even make the table more or less sensitive to tilting—so it seems like you can’t be a spoil-sport or cheater, rather it means you’re just willing to play a riskier version of pinball, as tilting can also greatly affect your score (on many tables, it doesn’t give you all of the points you’ve earned during play until after your ball drains, and you get none of those points if you tilt). However, I was recently playing in a tournament, and the tables were too close—with cup holders on the sides that practically were touching—and a player on one table shoved his table so hard it slid into the table next to him and tilted both games. In that instance, I would argue he was a spoil-sport for the person playing beside him.

Lastly, I thought a bit about where pinball fits as a game in Caillois’s table. Unlike Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia tried to argue, pinball is very much a game of skill/competition (agôn), albeit with some elements of chance (alea). Yes, the game is designed to drain your ball. There are openings all over the playing field, usually between flippers and along the edges (outlanes) where your ball wants to drain. Playfields are set up on an incline, some more steep than others, to ensure the ball wants to drain. And the playfield is set up with lots of things that want to bounce your ball back and drain. However, there are rules and strategy (ludus) you can learn to mitigate that. Hitting certain targets can increase your points, and also increase the value of other shots on the playfield. Hitting certain ramps or loops, in a certain order, can help you attain extra points or complete modes, or build toward a multiball. And there are ways you can catch the ball or at least slow it down so you can have more control and aim for the shots you want to hit. I also think there are elements of mimicry to entice you to play one table over another. Many tables are made based on comic books or movies, with playfields that literally mimic things in those intellectual properties that make them recognizable to you. Even more so, on some tables, you pick with character you want to play as before you launch the ball.

welcome

A hearty welcome to all students in DH 780 this term. I look forward to meeting you on Monday (note that we’re in 4119). In the meantime, please look around. There’s nothing to prepare for our first meeting, but if you’d like to introduce yourself via the charming microblogging interface, Padlet, be my guest:

https://huntercollege68.padlet.org/jallred/dh-780-introduction-games-people-play-eju0g92tcgz67v2h

I trust that you’re on the Commons and a member of our group + site if you’re reading this, but email me if you’re having issues.

Wallace Stevens and “playable media”

Re-reading Wardrip-Fruin on playable media this week, I thought of Wallace Stevens’s great long poem, “The Blue Guitar” (1937). The poem is a long riff on the way “things as they are” are transformed through the refracting energies of poetry (the titular “blue guitar”). I think both Bogost and Wardrip-Fruin, in different ways, want to think about how digital texts can marshal some of this deformative energy and create new ways of thinking about the same old, same old.

Here are some excerpts from the poem for those who are interested from a charming olde website of yore from one of my mentors, Al Filreis.

Group Project #3: Playing Novels

As discussed, our third and final group project involves “playing” a novel in ways that draw widely from several different scholarly modes and cultural forms, from the creative writing workshop to the dramatic improv troupe to the textual scholar to the Dungeons and Dragons enthusiast.

To get organized, please sign up on this simple spreadsheet. After our discussion at the end of last week’s class, most of you know that we’re dividing into two groups that will play one of two texts: Sherwood Anderson’s Winesburg, Ohio (1919), and Paula Fox’s Desperate Characters (1970).

I’ve roughed in sites for both games. Refer to them to get a quick sense of some options for roles to play. You’ll start to build your role Monday, but it will help to a) read the text you want to play and b) think a bit about what roles would be most fun in advance.

And here are Zotero groups we’ll use to gather and share materials and notes for both games:

Ivanhoe text pitches

We’ll put our heads together and choose a text to “play,” beginning next week. There are no hard and fast rules on what makes for a good text, but in my view here are some general criteria:

  • size matters: there’s a lot of work (well, play) in order to read the text and understand it, plus do enough research on your character in order to play them competently. So novella-length is good. Also, a modest number of main characters is much better than a Tolstoyan dramatis personae.
  • rich history helps: the play really cooks when you can activate the penumbra around a text rather than just enact what happens within its pages. So texts that have interesting reception histories or performance histories or controversies around them are a good fit.
  • lively voices: since you’re basically ventriloquizing characters, authors, readers, etc., one hopes for fun, lively characters to inhabit.

A few suggestions:

  • At the risk of tedium, my earlier suggestion of Sinclair Lewis’s novel imagining a dystopian fascist USA, It Can’t Happen Here, would be great. I dimly remember that it was turned into a play that was widely performed in the 1930s and would be interesting to delve into.
  • How about Jonathan Franzens’ The Corrections, given that it sparked the notorious Oprah Affair and occasioned all kinds of discussions about literature, media, and commerce?
  • A novel with a coterie of famous readers around it might be cool, like Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein?

I’m sure you’ll have your own ideas, and we can have 2 or 3 games going on different texts if we like.

Finally, a few examples:

Leslie Jamison in the NYer on CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE

Interesting piece on the 1980s Choose Your Own Adventure series of children’s books that touches on some of the overlap between print and screen-based media we discussed last night, insofar as the CYOI series anticipates some of the 1990s giddy fascination with “hypertext media” and the contemporary proximity between cinema, video games, and the novel.

BTW if it isn’t obvious, this is your space too: feel free to post anything course-relevant on the blog as we move through the course.

 

Playing novels: some thoughts about Ivanhoe

Katharina asked the very useful question last week, after I suggested that one or both groups might choose a substitute for the planned Billy Budd: what makes for a good text to play via Ivanhoe? Here are some thoughts on that score:

  • you can “play” virtually any fictional narrative (or even historical event, legal debate, etc.): as long as there are an array of different personae to inhabit, the play will work.
  • shorter is better: in my experience, the game works best in groups of 4-7, to allow for a range of different personae and to give a sense of the text as a whole. As I joked in class, Russian “doorstop” novels have too many characters and too much plot complexity to work well. Novella-length is great, given the time constraints.
  • public-domain is always nice but less necessary here: we are transforming these texts and thus can “publish” our work in the open under “fair use.” So the only downside is the expense, potentially, of getting your hands on an in-copyright text.
  • interesting publication history: if you dig deeply enough, almost any text has a rich publication history on some level, but it’s nice to think about texts that occasioned some kind of vivid debate, or had unusual itineraries through the publication process, or otherwise teach us something about the production/consumption/distribution of texts.
  • As I mentioned in class, the Bedford Cultural Edition series has a few 19thC texts that have rich publication histories, are of manageable length, and are chock-full of the kinds of cultural materials that would enhance your play.

For an example, check out the site in which my honors course at Hunter played Charles Chesnutt’s The Conjure Tales last term. As you can see, both teams played the same text but with different emphases and different “paratextual” characters. The fun of the game emerges through the interactions, in which players, much as in improvised music or theater or dance, have to listen to one another in order for their expressions to mesh with the whole. Of course your play will look very different, but I think these students did great things with the project.