The Role of Narrative Units in the Design of Coherent Plot Structures for Single-Player Action Video Games

Home , Adam Jensen, Dear Esther, Dramatic structure, JC Denton, Jonathan Culler, Main Plot

by Natalie Gene Funk

M.Sc., Georgia Institute of Technology, 2006 B.A., Antioch University, 1999

Thesis Submitted in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy

in the School of Interactive Arts and Technology Faculty of Communication, Art and Technology

Copyright in this work rests with the author. Please ensure that any reproduction or re-use is done in accordance with the relevant national copyright legislation. Approval

Name: Natalie Gene Funk

Degree: Doctor of Philosophy (Interactive Arts and Technology)

Title: The Role of Narrative Units in the Design of Coherent Plot Structures for Single-Player Action Video Games

Examining Committee: Chair: Marek Hatala Professor

Jim Bizzocchi Senior Supervisor Associate Professor

Steve DiPaola Supervisor Professor

Richard Smith Internal Examiner Professor Communications and Centre for Digital Media

Dene Grigar External Examiner Associate Professor Digital Technology and Culture Program Washington State University

Date Defended: April 23, 2018

ii Abstract

The implementation of interactive narrative in video games has been a challenge for game designers since the earliest days of text adventures. One way to address this challenge is to explore the relationship of narrative units and game mechanics. During the rise of structuralist attitudes in the early twentieth century, the categorization of constituent units in narrative was foregrounded in the work of the Russian Formalists, and in the writings of the literary semioticians who followed. Conversely, in contemporary Game Studies, it can be argued that narrative in games has not been adequately investigated at such a granular level. I use the classic humanities technique of close-reading to identify and analyze the role of modularized narrative units in a selection of commercial single-player game titles: NHL12, Middle Earth: Shadow of Mordor, and the Deus Ex franchise. By looking at these artifacts, I have compiled a list of characteristics that affect the design of interactive narrative in digital games. My work concentrated on the identification and understanding of the various manifestations of the narrative arc within the experience of the unfolding story. As my basic observational tool, I relied on the phases of the narrative arc as defined by Kristin Thompson (1999): setup, complication, development, and resolution. Using these concepts, I identified distinct instantiations of the narrative arc at various scales across each game. I observed the boundaries of the narrative arcs in each game, which provided insight into how these arcs inter-relate. I noted a hierarchical system: smaller narrative modules are systematically embedded within the larger narrative arcs. In addition, I found that the narrative units were cumulative in their effect on the ongoing game story. Narrative knowledge accumulates as more modules are played. In some instances the modules are designed so that the narrative experience works regardless of the order in which they are played. This research reveals design poetics that can be applied to future interactive narrative projects. A better understanding of how to integrate story into the gameplay experience in a satisfying way benefits analysts, designers and players.

iii Keywords: Narrative Structure; Game Narrative; Interactive Narrative; Narrative Design; Micronarrative; Modular Narrative

iv To Dad…

v Acknowledgements

With a full heart, I must express my immense gratitude for all of the benevolent hands that have helped to guide me along this journey. I would not be in this hoped-for place of culmination and commencement without the support and generosity of so many friends and colleagues. I’m thankful to my fellow students and researchers at the School of Interactive Arts and Technology who have contributed so much insight and perspective during our time on campus together. Aaron Levisohn, Ying Deng, Michelle Nilsson Levisohn, Huaxin Wei, Josh and Karen Tanenbaum. And especially the members of our informal but powerful Thesis Support Group: Vicki Moulder, Dinara Moura, Michael Nixon, Jeremy Owen Turner, Ben Unterman and Aynur Kadir. I am indebted to Tiffany Taylor for the consideration, clarity and humor she has always brought to her communication at the times when I needed level-headed advice. Many thanks go out to Tina Kong for her friendly and timely assistance with department procedures as my thesis neared completion. I am especially grateful for the tireless support and ongoing encouragement of my committee advisors: Jim Bizzocchi and Steve DiPaola. Thank you both for your patience and the opportunities you have provided over these many years. Jim, you helped to kindle the fire when I needed it most. For my examiners, Dene Grigar and Richard Smith, I deeply appreciate your intellectual generosity in contributing your time and expertise to engage with my evolving academic ideas. Finally, it is hard to briefly encompass a lifetime of thanks to my family: My parents Fred and Becky Funk, who made financial sacrifices and helped in all the ways that they could to support my academic pursuits, though this journey has taken me far from home; My sister Amy, who has carried so many burdens in my absence; And especially my husband Jim Andrews, who has endured my late nights and necessary seclusion, who has held down the fort and kept me nourished and comforted me through the most difficult times - thank you for all that you’ve given to enable me to continue this work. I look forward to our new adventures together.

vi Contents

Approval ii

Abstract iii

Dedication v

Acknowledgements vi

Table of Contents vii

List of Tables xi

List of Figures xii

1 Introduction 1 1.1 Context of the Study ...... 2 1.2 Motivation for the Study ...... 4 1.3 Aim and Scope ...... 5 1.4 Significance of the Study ...... 6 1.5 Overview of the Thesis ...... 8

2 Foundations in the Literature 10 2.1 Discussion of Terms ...... 11 2.1.1 Drama and Narrative ...... 11 2.1.2 Diegesis and Mimesis ...... 12 2.1.3 Defining Narrative ...... 13 2.1.4 Narrative and Plot ...... 14 2.1.5 Narrative Knowledge ...... 15 2.1.6 Immersion ...... 16 2.1.7 Personal Narrative ...... 17 2.1.8 Micronarrative ...... 18 2.1.9 Action Games ...... 19 2.2 Conceptual Framework ...... 20

vii 2.2.1 Narrative Analysis and Games ...... 21 2.2.2 Essential Properties of Interactive Media ...... 23 2.2.3 Narrative Architecture and Games ...... 27 2.2.4 Games and Narrative Systems ...... 28 2.3 Traditional Narrative Structure: Arcs and Acts ...... 29 2.3.1 Narrative Units in Theatre ...... 30 2.3.2 Narrative Units in Film ...... 34 2.3.3 Narrative Units in Television ...... 38 2.3.4 Narrative Units in Folktales ...... 41 2.3.5 Narrative Units in Literature ...... 43 2.4 Interactive Narrative Structure: Graphs and Rhizomes ...... 48 2.4.1 Narrative Units in Interactive Media ...... 48 2.4.2 Narrative Units in Games ...... 54 2.5 Summary of Narrative Units ...... 56

3 Research Design and Methods 57 3.1 Methodological Approach ...... 57 3.1.1 Formal Analysis: Games as Texts ...... 60 3.1.2 Close Reading of Games ...... 68 3.1.3 Hermeneutics and Poetics ...... 72 3.1.4 Summary of Methods ...... 76 3.2 Research Design: Data Collection ...... 76 3.2.1 Games as Texts for Study ...... 77 3.2.2 Gameplay and Recording Process ...... 80 3.3 Research Design: Data Analysis ...... 83 3.3.1 The Lens: Four Act Structure and Narrative Units ...... 84 3.3.2 Thompson’s Model ...... 84 3.3.3 Culler’s Advice on Narrative Units ...... 87 3.3.4 Methodological Limitations ...... 88 3.4 Summary of Methodology ...... 88

4 Close Readings of Games as Artifacts 90 4.1 Narrative Units in NHL 12 ...... 91 4.1.1 NHL 12: Level 1 Unit (Game Match) ...... 92 4.1.2 NHL 12: Level 2 Unit (Game Periods) ...... 93 4.1.3 NHL 12: Level 3 Unit (The “Play”) ...... 93 4.1.4 NHL 12: Level 4 Unit (Encounter/Micronarrative) ...... 93 4.1.5 NHL 12: Summary ...... 94 4.2 Narrative Units in Middle Earth: Shadow of Mordor ...... 95

viii 4.2.1 Shadow of Mordor: Level 1 Unit (Game) ...... 96 4.2.2 Shadow of Mordor: Level 2 Unit (Mission) ...... 96 4.2.3 Shadow of Mordor: Level 3 Unit (Objective) ...... 97 4.2.4 Shadow of Mordor: Level 4 Unit (Micronarrative) ...... 97 4.2.5 Shadow of Mordor: Summary ...... 98 4.3 Narrative Units in Deus Ex: Introduction ...... 98 4.4 Narrative Units in Deus Ex: Human Revolution ...... 100 4.4.1 Deus Ex: Human Revolution: Level 1 Unit (Game) ...... 101 4.4.2 Deus Ex: Human Revolution: Level 2 Unit (City) ...... 101 4.4.3 Deus Ex: Human Revolution: Level 3 Unit (Chapter) ...... 102 4.4.4 Deus Ex: Human Revolution: Level 4 Unit (Mission) ...... 103 4.4.5 Deus Ex: Human Revolution: Level 5 Unit (Objective) ...... 103 4.4.6 Deus Ex: Human Revolution: Level 6 Unit (Micronarrative) . . . . . 104 4.4.7 Deus Ex: Human Revolution: Summary ...... 105 4.5 Narrative Units in Deus Ex: Mankind Divided ...... 105 4.5.1 Deus Ex: Mankind Divided: Level 1 Unit (Game) ...... 106 4.5.2 Deus Ex: Mankind Divided: Level 2 Unit (City) ...... 106 4.5.3 Deus Ex: Mankind Divided: Level 3 Unit (Chapter) ...... 107 4.5.4 Deus Ex: Mankind Divided: Level 4 Unit (Mission) ...... 107 4.5.5 Deus Ex: Mankind Divided: Level 5 Unit (Objective) ...... 107 4.5.6 Deus Ex: Mankind Divided: Level 6 Unit (Micronarrative) ...... 108 4.5.7 Deus Ex: Mankind Divided: Summary ...... 109 4.6 Narrative Units in Deus Ex ...... 109 4.6.1 Deus Ex: Level 1 Unit (Game) ...... 109 4.6.2 Deus Ex: Level 2 Unit (City) ...... 110 4.6.3 Deus Ex: Level 3 Unit (Goal) ...... 111 4.6.4 Deus Ex: Level 4 Unit (Micronarrative) ...... 111 4.6.5 Deus Ex: Summary ...... 112 4.7 Narrative Units in Deus Ex: Invisible War ...... 112 4.7.1 Deus Ex: Invisible War: Level 1 Unit (Game) ...... 113 4.7.2 Deus Ex: Invisible War: Level 2 Unit (City) ...... 113 4.7.3 Deus Ex: Invisible War: Level 3 Unit (Goal) ...... 113 4.7.4 Deus Ex: Invisible War: Level 4 Unit (Micronarrative) ...... 113 4.7.5 Deus Ex: Invisible War: Summary ...... 114 4.8 Summary of Deus Ex Games ...... 114 4.9 Summary of Games in the Study ...... 115

5 Discussion 116 5.1 Review of Key Results ...... 116

ix 5.1.1 Results: NHL 12 ...... 118 5.1.2 Results: Shadow of Mordor ...... 118 5.1.3 Results: Human Revolution ...... 118 5.1.4 Results: Mankind Divided ...... 118 5.1.5 Results: Deus Ex ...... 119 5.1.6 Results: Invisible War ...... 119 5.1.7 Summary of Game Results ...... 119 5.2 Discussion of Findings ...... 119 5.2.1 Narrative Exists in the Form of Modules ...... 121 5.2.2 The Narrative Modules Have a Hierarchy ...... 125 5.2.3 The Narrative Modules Are Cumulative ...... 125 5.2.4 How Modularity Serves Both the Ludic and the Narrative ...... 126 5.2.5 How Hierarchy Serves Both the Ludic and the Narrative ...... 128 5.2.6 How Cumulativity Serves Both the Ludic and the Narrative . . . . . 129 5.2.7 Ludic Challenge and Narrative Complication ...... 130 5.2.8 Ludic Success and Narrative Resolution ...... 132 5.2.9 Flow Meets Narrative Arc ...... 132 5.3 Implications for Theory and Practice ...... 133 5.4 Summary of Findings ...... 134

6 Conclusion 135 6.1 Reflection on the Research Process ...... 135 6.2 Next Steps and Recommendations for Future Research ...... 136 6.2.1 Further Sequels ...... 136 6.2.2 Additional AAA Genres ...... 137 6.2.3 Transmedia Storytelling ...... 137 6.2.4 Independent Titles ...... 137 6.2.5 Electronic Literature ...... 138 6.3 Concluding Thoughts ...... 139

Bibliography 140

Appendix A Close Reading Notes 148

x List of Tables

Table 4.1 Narrative units in the games of this study ...... 91 Table 4.2 Narrative units in the Deus Ex franchise ...... 115

xi List of Figures

Figure 2.1 Freytag’s triangle of narrative moments ...... 32

Figure 3.1 Games included in my study ...... 77 Figure 3.2 Hardware for recording gameplay ...... 81

Figure 4.1 Diagram of narrative structure in NHL 12 ...... 92 Figure 4.2 Hockey match faceoff in NHL 12 ...... 94 Figure 4.3 Diagram of narrative structure in Shadow of Mordor ...... 95 Figure 4.4 Diagram of narrative structure in Deus Ex franchise ...... 98 Figure 4.5 Diagram of narrative structure in Human Revolution ...... 100 Figure 4.6 Diagram of narrative structure in Mankind Divided ...... 105 Figure 4.7 Objectives screen in Mankind Divided ...... 108 Figure 4.8 Diagram of narrative structure in Deus Ex ...... 109 Figure 4.9 Goals screen in Deus Ex ...... 111 Figure 4.10 Diagram of narrative structure in Invisible War ...... 112 Figure 4.11 Goals screen in Invisible War ...... 114

xii 1 | Introduction

There is a compelling force in a well-crafted story that can temporarily drown out hunger, thirst and even the need for sleep. The psychological drive to find out ‘what happens next’ is a powerful motivator in keeping the rapt attention of an audience. Meanwhile, in digital gameplay, the imaginative immersion so characteristic of cinema and literary experience is complicated by both the immersive power and the logistical necessities of participatory agency inherent to the medium. While some games captivate the imagination and persuade players to take part in a fictional storyworld, many games fall short of achieving this balance. If this phenomenon were better understood, video games would more consistently realize their unique potential as a medium of expression capable of the levels of emotional depth and engagement commanded by cinema and literature today. This matters to a sizable game industry making progress towards maturation as a medium. According to an online press release from the Entertainment Software Associ- ation, the revenue of the US video game industry reached $36 billion in 2017 (ESA, 2018). With the increasing popularity of digital games, providing engaging experiences is vital as both the audience and the platforms grow increasingly diverse. One powerful way to give players a sense of immersion within a game environment is through the skillful use of narrative. How do we go about the study of narrative in games? What are the best criteria to use in evaluating stories in this medium? A recent article in The Guardian highlights the insider perspective of Clint Hocking, a writer for the AAA titles Far Cry 2 and Splinter Cell: Chaos Theory. Hocking believes that in the games industry, “The idea of having [story] separate from the design is not constructive and that it holds us back” adding that “We haven’t fully understood the way the medium works, or what we’re trying to accomplish with it” (Howitt, 2014). Even for insiders, the theory and methods for producing good game stories are part of an ongoing process of iteration and refinement. It appears that a better understanding of how to effectively combine game story and mechanics would benefit the medium, both from the point of view of academia and also for practitioners. Contrasting opinions still exist, however. Last year, noted games academic Ian Bogost stirred controversy when he wrote for The Atlantic that “Video games are better without stories,” citing the disappointments of environmental storytelling in Gone Home, Dear Esther and What Remains of Edith Finch (Bogost, 2017). In the article, Bogost wonders aloud if

1 the use of environmental storytelling in these games was really worthwhile, asking, “Are the resulting interactive stories really interactive, when all the player does is assemble something from parts? Are they really stories, when they are really environments? And most of all, are they better stories than the more popular and proven ones in the cinema, on television, and in books?” (2017, para 3). Bogost’s view represented in this article is that these types of games are good at simulating places and things, but are arguably inferior to film and novels when it comes to “traditional time-based narrative” (2017, para 19). In the case of this brief article for a popular magazine, Bogost’s essay is not aimed at an academic audience, and the nuance that has been typical in his previous writings on game design is here much curtailed. The takeaway from this article may simply be that relying solely on backstory embedded in objects in an otherwise static gameworld ultimately proves to be an unsatisfying narrative experience for many players. We might ask, what are the ways in which story can work in tandem with game mechanics to produce a meaningful experience for the player? The reader will note that later in this thesis, it is from Bogost’s own book Unit Operations (2006) that I draw inspiration for a key concept guiding the integration of games and stories with some measure of success. What if this could be done by embracing the properties of the medium and combining gameplay challenges with narrative units?

1.1 Context of the Study

The relationship between narrative and gameplay has attracted conflicting interpretations over the past two decades. In the early days of game studies as a field, the relationship between these two elements formed a battle zone between two camps: the ludologists as- serted that games were clearly distinct from stories and that gameplay required study on its own terms as an emerging discipline, while the narratologists wished to apply literary methods to better understand the manifestation of story within games. Espen Aarseth’s theories of ergodic literature (Espen Aarseth, 1997) were pitted against Janet Murray’s metaphor of the Holodeck (Murray, 1998a). Markku Eskelinen teased, “Luckily, outside theory, people are usually excellent at distinguishing between narrative situations and gaming situations: if I throw a ball at you, I don’t expect you to drop it and wait until it starts telling stories” (Eskelinen, 2004, p. 213). This misplaced antagonism continued well into the early 2000s, with the ludologists frequently hurling diatribes at the narratologists. Near the beginning of his essay in the 2004 collection First Person: New Media as Story, Performance and Game, Henry Jenkins describes a “blood feud” at a Games Studies conference that began to emerge between “the self-proclaimed ludologists, who wanted to see the focus shift onto the mechanics of game play, and the narratologists, who were interested in studying games alongside other storytelling media” (Jenkins, 2004, p. 118). In his essay, Jenkins proposes 5 points to which ludologists and narratologists might all agree. In Jenkins’ words:

2 1. Not all games tell stories 2. Many games do have narrative aspirations 3. Narrative analysis need not be prescriptive 4. The experience of playing games can never be simply reduced to the experience of a story. 5. If some games tell stories, they are unlikely to tell them in she same ways that other media tell stories. (Jenkins, 2004, pp. 119-120).

These points are important to consider when seeking a more comprehensive view of what games studies can achieve. The idea that games as a participatory medium must necessarily be in conflict with stories, is ultimately a superficial criticism. There are productive ways to consider how story and interactivity combine. Eventually, the debate settled down and game studies grew to accommodate a diverse array of approaches to understanding games. Jesper Juul took a softer stance toward game narratives when writing about the role of fiction in games of ‘emergence’ and games of ‘progression’ in his book Half Real (Juul, 2005). Additionally, in his 2012 paper for the Foundations of Digital Games Conference, Espen Aarseth looks back on the ludology and narratology debate, explaining that he primarily took issue with the “conflation of any kind of diegetic or experienced situation with storytelling” (Espen Aarseth, 2012, p. 131). Aarseth writes that “At some point it becomes hard to distinguish narratives from any other type of worldly experience, at which time (or long before) we might as well give up the discussion. Alternatively, we can consult existing narratology and see if the standard definitions of what a narrative is might not still be useful when we are examining games” (Espen Aarseth, 2012, p. 131). This is something that I can agree with. There is much to be gained by using accepted narrative definitions to clarify the parameters used when exploring the narrative qualities of games. Having finally set aside the needless contention between the two camps, Game Stud- ies is now able to embrace ludological and narratological orientations as two lenses among many through which the medium of video games can be studied. Games and narrative can overlap, and it is worth exploring the possibilities of how story and gameplay can be combined. Within that continuum, environmental storytelling (Jenkins, 2004) and the concept of narrativity (Ryan, 1992) have a place. Some games foreground the narrative, actively promoting the narrative experience for the player. This can be seen in explicit quest narratives such as those exhibited in adventure and role-playing games which tend to use patterns derived from the Hero’s Journey as described by Campbell (1972) and adapted by Vogler (1998) and embraced to varying degrees within the games industry. Salen and Zimmer- man write about quest games in Rules of Play (Salen & Zimmerman, 2004). In the years since this early dispute, a great variety of approaches to studying games have emerged: games user research, cultural studies, and formal analysis are but a few of the ways in which games studies has expanded into an interdisciplinary field.

3 1.2 Motivation for the Study

Integrating narrative arcs with a participatory medium does have its challenges. From the early days of interactive narrative discourse in the 1990s, such a dilemma was often referred to as the ‘narrative paradox’ (Aylett, 1999; Louchart & Aylett, 2003). It is widely agreed that in cinema and literature, the pleasures of story derive from the reader’s willing suspension of disbelief (Coleridge, 1817/1977) and the sensation of being “carried along” by the momentum of dramatic tension. In gameplay, however, players seek the experience of challenge and the flow state when responding to obstacles in the gameworld. (Csik- szentmihalyi, 1990). Game designers who want to create story-focused games frequently have to balance these competing imperatives. On one side are the tightly crafted narrative arcs that make satisfying stories, and on the other side are the practicalities of variable gameplay afforded by interaction in this unique medium. In the design of a digital game, what structures enable plot to form coherently in a system driven by players toward multiple uncertain outcomes? One way is to reconsider the assumption of passivity on the part of a reader of a digital text. Eric Zimmerman writes about four relevant modes of interactivity:

• Cognitive Interactivity - the reader-response participation with a text in a psychological, interpretive way; • Functional Interactivity - the structural interaction afforded by the table of contents, index, graphic design, etc.; • Explicit Interactivity - more obvious interaction such as clicking links, following rules, choices, random events, etc.; and • Meta-Interactivity - a more cultural interaction going beyond a single text and individual, including fan culture and appropriation (Zimmerman, 2004).

Janet Murray writes about the pleasures of immersion and agency in interactive environments and how they can be used to create meaningful choices and consequences (1998a). Chris Crawford looks closely at the dynamics of narrative structures in games and measures the success of an interactive narrative by its ratio of achievable to conceivable states (Crawford, 2003b). Bizzocchi identifies a number of narrative parameters within interactive environments, including character, storyworld, emotion, narrativized interface and micronarrative (Bizzocchi, 2007). Among these, micronarrative and its implications for narrative structure at different levels of scale is particularly worth exploring for its potential use in the design of interactive narrative experiences. Although studies have recognized the narrative qualities of video games in the adventure and role-playing genres, research has yet to systematically investigate the relationships of narrative units in action games such as sports simulations and first-person shooters. It could be argued that in the academic literature, narrative in action games has not

4 been adequately investigated at a granular level. Up to now, there has been very little attention paid to the role of these narrative units to the creation of satisfying narrative structures. Through the close examination of exemplary action games I intend to reveal the detailed dynamics and better understand how they work in practice, to be able to provide a structural description that will then be applicable to the design and theory of narrative in games. A promising approach to reconciling these competing objectives is to consider the role of modular narrative units in the design and experience of story within games. My specific area of concern as a researcher is to investigate narrative structures in games and the ways in which play and story can work together. The gap that needs to be filled is the formulation of theories grounded in the analysis of practice which help to structure coherent narrative plot in a medium driven by player agency.

1.3 Aim and Scope

The aim of this thesis is to investigate key aspects of the relationship between plot structures and gameplay experiences, in an effort to contribute to the dialogue concerning games and narrative. This research project is rooted in a DiGRA paper that I worked on with my mentors and colleagues at Simon Fraser University: Jim Bizzocchi, Steve DiPaola and Michael Nixon. The foundational concepts involve micronarrative and its properties. In this original study, we compared manifestations of micronarrative in the games NHL 12 and Deus Ex: Human Revolution. My thesis work continues as a direct outgrowth of these ideas, expanding the games that have been examined and also expanding the analysis of the narrative arcs under consideration. In particular, I am interested in the manifestations and functionality of these units as found in single-player action video games. This leads to my research question: How does the design of narrative units in single-player action video games function in the experience of a coherent story? The scope of my study will be limited to a small sample of single-player games with action represented in a three-dimensional storyworld (as opposed to a more abstract two- dimensional or flat visual representation). Most of the games present a third-person point- of-view, though one series (the Deus Ex franchise) alternates between first- and third- person when stealth mode is actuated. Single-player is an important focus because the evolving story in games with multiple players tends to have a greater number of variables to consider, which would necessarily complicate my analysis. For this reason, in the game NHL 12, I will be examining only the single-player mode, even though the game can accommodate two players. It is my belief that having a shared vocabulary in the form of a framework for analysis not only benefits the games industry and the community that surrounds it, but also the academics studying games and the players who discuss them with such passion. Using an approach and methods derived from media research in the humanities, this project is

5 meant to investigate how narrative units function in existing commercial game titles. In this thesis, I will argue that when we look at narrative units as modules, we can see that there are hierarchical and cumulative processes that contribute to the coherence of the story produced through gameplay. My work will articulate the varied and complex nature of these narrative units and thereby contribute to the Game Studies literature on the design and experience of narrative within electronic games. For this study, I will use as my unit of analysis the classical narrative arc. The goal of my research is to better apprehend the poetics of game narratives in a small selection of action-oriented games.

1.4 Significance of the Study

A better understanding of the poetics of narrative structure in video games can help to influence the creation of more satisfying story experiences in games. This knowledge will also contribute to the vocabulary of critical discourse of game studies, providing concepts to include in the teaching of game design. This work will be useful for games scholars, students, designers, critics, and informed players. The research in this thesis is grounded in games studies and new media literature. My research will make a change to the understanding of game narrative in game studies in several ways. The outcomes from this research are important because the appreciation and critique of games is part of its maturation as a medium. Games scholars recognize this, and see themselves as a key part of this process. In addition, there is an active ecology of game analysis and criticism at work between gamers and developers. The nature of the outcomes of my work will manifest most directly from the theoretical vantage point, helping to extend our scholarly models of narrative in games. However the goal is to reveal these in an understandable form – with practical implications as well. The thesis is certainly not aspiring to prescriptive outcomes – for example, a checklist for game designers is not intended as part of the contribution. However, the professional discourse around game design operates at a high level, and this thesis will highlight relevant and understandable issues, findings, and analytical perspectives. The real outcome of this research will be the development and maturation of my set of analytical lenses with which to observe, describe, analyze and understand the design and experience of narrative units in digital games. Adding detail, revi- sions, and weight to my initial analytical framework will form the heart of my conclusions, but the utility of this extended framework can and should extend beyond the academic world. In the spirit of “Applied Humanism” suggested by Henry Jenkins, these findings should also inform a more focused recognition and understanding of these issues in the communities of vernacular games criticism and game designers themselves. There is a model for academic analysis that informs cultural practice. In an essay concerning computer game studies, Henry Jenkins revisits Gilbert Seldes’ 1924 work “The Seven Lively Arts,” which was written at the time to support the development of cinema,

6 modern dance, jazz and other then contemporary forms as significant aesthetic media on their own terms. Jenkins writes that “Seldes was quite clear that sustained and rigorous criticism of the ‘lively arts’ was the key to their long-term development. Such criticism must start from a sympathetic position, one which takes the popular arts on their own terms, one which respects the defining properties of specific media and genres” (Jenkins, 2005). Later in the article, he adds that “As a new media, computer games demand this same kind of close critical engagement.” Furthermore, he asserts that criticism itself helps to encourage “experimentation and innovation” while “commercial pressures insure accessibility. The lively arts grow through a careful balancing between the two.” In Jenkins’ eyes, thoughtful criticism for games works analogously to cinema criticism in that “good film criticism helps focus attention on neglected independent films.” The gaps in the literature around game narrative can be addressed by research that results in frameworks that are potentially usable for game designers to integrate story and games in satisfying ways. Relevant theory is needed for structuring plot coherence in a medium driven by player agency. Among the benefits of such relevant theory are direct contribution to games scholarship, further development of both academic and vernacular game criticism, and the education of aspiring game designers. The benefits to game developers would be realized in a usable framework to conceptualize design principles. In this case the research falls into the realm of Applied Humanities. In the opening pages of the book Rethinking Media Change, the editors of MIT’s Media in Transition1 series write in their Series Foreword that the aspiration of this media scholarship is to “nourish a pragmatic, historically informed discourse that maps a middle ground between the extremes of euphoria and panic that define so much current discussion about emerging media – a discourse that recognizes the place of economic, political, legal, social, and cultural institu- tions in mediating and partly shaping technological change” (Thorburn, Barrett, & Jenkins, 2003, p. ix). There is much to be said for the importance of criticism and scholarship in the development of an art form. One advantage of organizing games into narrative units is to break down the larger structure of the narrative arc into smaller groupings that can be used in various ways within a medium that requires flexibility and interaction. We can visualize a system of structures which support the backbone of a larger narrative progression. This system functions through repetition at different scales on different levels. This practice is important for looking at these relationships at a level of granularity that is practical within games. At this stage,

1The Media in Transition series launched in 2003 and eventually comprised five titles. According to the MIT Press website (https://mitpress.mit.edu/books/series/media-transition), the intention of the series was to provide “a forum for humanists and social scientists who wish to speak not only across academic disciplines but also to policy makers, media and corporate practitioners, and, most of all, their fellow citizens.” One of the first books in this series, Rethinking Media Change, was edited by David Thorburn and Henry Jenkins. The Series Editors were David Thorburn, Edward Barrett and Henry Jenkins.

7 the terminology is not yet exact, so part of the work of the research will be to devise a vocabulary to articulate the variety of forms and processes through which narrative units can manifest within digital games.

1.5 Overview of the Thesis

The next chapter will delve further into the literature on games and narrative, converging on theories describing narrative units in several types of media. As a further orientation for the reader, I will briefly explain and describe the structure to be found in the chapters of the dissertation. In this Introduction chapter, I have discussed the background and history of the existing problem of narrative units in video games, suggesting that the modularity of narrative units deserves further exploration. In the remainder of the thesis I will argue that the modular nature of narrative units in the games that I have examined plays a key role in contributing to flexible and coherent storytelling. This study is significant because the maturation of the medium of video games benefits from a healthy ecology of critical discourse. The upcoming Chapter 2, Foundations in the Literature, delves into questions of how narrative is defined and structured in the context of unilinear and multilinear experiences. This discussion will include the conceptual basis in new media theories in which this study is grounded. It will then move from the general and historic forms of narrative through some examples of interactive narratives and finally will focus on the specific categories of narrative units in traditional media and in games. Chapter 3, Research Design and Methods, introduces the methodological approaches which guide this research study, including formalist approaches, hermeneutics and close reading techniques. Precedents in using textual analysis specifically in the case of video games are discussed here. These are applied toward a better understanding of how to derive the poetics of the medium of video games. In Chapter 4, Close Readings of Games as Artifacts, I present examples from each of the games in my study which illustrate the manifestation of the narrative arc at different levels of scale. The chapter will proceed in order of the games that I examined beginning with NHL 12 and Middle Earth: Shadow of Mordor, and culminating in the series of titles in the Deus Ex franchise, including the prequel titles Human Revolution and Mankind Divided, followed by the original Deus Ex game and its sequel, Invisible War. Chapter 5, Discussion, provides a deeper analysis of the way that the elements of narrative correlate with the findings from the video games under examination, showing how narrative and mechanics can be combined productively by means of narrative organized in a modular, hierarchical and cumulative schema.

8 Finally, Chapter 6, Conclusion, summarizes the arguments and reflects on the research process. Also directions for future work within games studies and electronic literature are briefly discussed.

9 2 | Foundations in the Literature

With the foundational works that I have highlighted in the Introduction, so far my goal has been to demonstrate the need within games studies for a more granular analysis of narrative units in games. I have shown that a better understanding of the operation of narrative units is needed to help game storytelling evolve within the medium of video games. What needs to be demonstrated next is a foundation for how narrative units have been defined in relevant media and how they are known to function. Although historically, the self-identified Ludologists had some objections to the application of theory from other fields to the study of games, diverse approaches to inquiry in this subject have now been established. Today, quantitative studies of game player metrics complement qualitative studies exploring relationships between games and society. In my research, I am drawing from the scholarship in new media theory alongside traditional concepts from literary studies. My research is grounded in formalist literary approaches to examining artifacts as texts, which has been the domain of narratology and textual analysis. To frame the contribution of my research to the debate, I situate my study in a general sense in the work of new media theorists who have much to say about the unique experiences offered by digital media. Film theory and definitions of narrative are also foundational to my study. After these ideas have been established, to get more specific, I present a brief look at recent and historical scholarship on the subject of plot units in narrative. This helps to set the groundwork for my research question, “How does the design of narrative units in single-player action video games function in the experience of a coherent story?” As such, I will be limiting my investigation to those works discussing games in general and single player games specifically, as much as possible. Multiplayer games have complexities of their own which would complicate my investigation at this time and I have not included them in my study. It is worthwhile to again revisit the definition that guides the questions in this thesis. I am using the definition from Bordwell and Thompson: a sequence of events in time and space with a cause and effect relationship (Bordwell & Thompson, 2001). This definition is important because it focuses on time and sequencing. It is not enough to simply have events, but those events need to be in a time-bound relationship to qualify as a narrative by this definition. Next in this chapter, I want to explore ideas concerning how narratives can be structured. This leads us to the idea of plot and the classical plot arc. How do we recognize

10 a well-formed story? I will begin with Aristotle and continue with the ideas of screenplay writers. All of these are concerned with how to construct stories that effectively entertain the audience. For filmmakers and for game designers, this is a question of commercial success. For them, the story is the product.

2.1 Discussion of Terms

In this subsection I define some of the frequently used terms that I will be using in the body of this thesis. It is beneficial to briefly tease apart other concepts relating to common understandings of narrative. In the following subsections, I will introduce terms such as drama, narrative, diegesis and mimesis, plot, narrative knowledge, poetics, narrativity, medium specificity, immersion, personal narrative and micronarrative, in order to illustrate the perspective that I am using to approach the topic of narrative in games.

2.1.1 Drama and Narrative

Brenda Laurel distinguishes between drama and narrative in her book, Computers as The- atre (1993). Laurel chooses the term ‘drama’ rather than ‘narrative’ as a better model for interaction because it foregrounds mimesis and activity rather than the speech of a narrator. Brenda summarizes the key differences between drama and narrative in three paragraphs, parts of which I excerpt here:

1. Enactment - “the stuff of narrative is description, while the stuff of drama is action” (Laurel, 1993, p. 94). 2. Intensification - “The common-sense observation is simply that time has a different scale when you are acting out than it does when you are reading” (Laurel, 1993, p. 94). 3. Unity of action versus episodic structure - “Drama is typically more intense, tightly constructed, economical and cathartic than narrative” (Laurel, 1993, p. 95).

It appears that Laurel is making a comparison specifically between the form of the novel and that of the play. Typically, the novel features a narrator and more lengthy mise-en-scene with extended interior monologues. In contrast, plays and films provide a direct enactment before the eyes of the viewer, more closely resembling the world. Is it really necessary to position narrative in opposition to drama? There are many aspects to consider when examining the distinctions between showing and telling. Can we really make generalizations about which is more effective or engaging in the role of narrative transmission? Watching a film provides an experience of action unfolding before our eyes. Watching a play similarly foregrounds enactment, with the additional excitement of being physically present with the actors in a live setting. Reading a novel

11 requires a focused cognitive engagement in actively visualizing the events taking place. Playing a game invites the player to take an active, yet constrained role in the unfolding events, in a sense being both the actor and the audience. This is still not so far removed from the active participation that reading an engrossing novel provides. Playing a game is similar to reading because there is a willing act of make believe on the part of the player of the game. When children are playing house and inventing their own stories together, this is both acting and telling. Why adopt dramatic theatre – where enactment is within the purview of the actors only – as the best model for interactivity? Perhaps improvisational theatre would be closer to the desired paradigm. At any rate, my focus on narrative form in this thesis embraces the capacity for storytelling afforded by visual representation, active participation and verbal construction, especially when they are united. These themes will be explored in more depth as this chapter continues. In my research, I am most interested in the manifestation of plot within the medium of games. The idea of plot transcends medium. Novels, films, and plays all contain plots. The games that are within my scope of research contain plots. As with Aristotle in the Poetics, my focus in this thesis emphasizes the events and their sequencing. It could certainly be argued that the model of drama is much more useful in the application of formal theory to video games than something like the form of the novel, which is quite different. I prefer to use the term “narrative,” however, as Bordwell and Thompson do, to refer to the manifestation of events sequenced in time and space with a cause and effect relationship (Bordwell & Thompson, 2001, p. 60). This may be a broader definition of narrative than that defended by Laurel, but I find it most useful, and much as in Laurel’s sense of the term, emphasizes the quality of action, perceived as events.

2.1.2 Diegesis and Mimesis

It is useful to explain some distinctions between the commonly used terms narrative and drama. Drama is associated with an act of mimesis, while narrative definitions often are assumed to have a narrator. But who is the narrator in a video game? Which model is more appropriate to use when examining the structure of an interactive work? Brenda Laurel argues for Aristotle’s classic notion of drama because the act of interaction is mimetic. In the writings of Andre Gaudreault, another perspective on this divide is available.1 Rather than debate about whether film is mimetic or diegetic compared to theatre, Gaudreault proposes the word ‘monstration’ as a descriptor for the ways that film uses visual storytelling (Gaudreault, 2009). Films can show action, which often supersedes the need for words or telling.

1I would like to thank Dominic Arsenault for the suggestion to investigate Gaudreault’s writing on this subject in the context of games.

12 It is helpful to first examine how narrative is defined in order to have a good working process for distinguishing its effects.

2.1.3 Defining Narrative

In the Cambridge Introduction to Narrative, H. Porter Abbott provides his own definition of narrative. “Simply put, narrative is the representation of an event or a series of events. ‘Event’ is the key word here, though some people prefer the word ‘action.’ Without an event or an action, you may have a ‘description,’ an ‘exposition,’ an ‘argument,’ a ‘lyric,’ some combination of these or something else altogether, but you won’t have a narrative” (Ab- bott, 2008, p. 12). This definition is quite broad in that it encompasses works that simply include one or more events. Notably, there is no specification here about any presumed relationships between the events. Abbott continues,” ‘My dog has fleas’ is a description of my dog, but it is not a narrative because nothing happens. ‘My dog was bitten by a flea’ is a narrative. It tells of an event” (Abbott, 2008, p. 12). Even this example is somewhat controversial because for some scholars, (Abbott cites Bal, Bordwell and Richardson) causality is essential to the definition of narrative. On the other hand, Gerard Genette (1980) in his definition of narrative keeps a less restrictive view, which allows additional examples to be embraced and categorized as narratives. Even though they contain the building blocks of narrative, some works do not exhibit distinct narrative arcs and may be considered incomplete in Abbott’s view:

John Bunyan’s Grace Abounding (1666), T. S. Eliot’s The Waste Land (1922), Samuel Beckett’s The Unnamable (1953), and Tom McHarg’s The Late-Nite Maneuvers of the Ultramundane (1993) are full of narratives and micro-narratives, yet many would hesi- tate to call the works as a whole narratives.They just don’t seem to have the cumulative effect of narrative. (Abbott, 2008, pp. 12-13).

Judging from Abbott’s comment here, the cumulative aspect is an important component of narrative. I will be returning to this point in Chapter 5. Another definition of narrative that I will be relying on in the chapters to come is from Kristin Thompson and David Bordwell who write in their book Film Art:

We can consider a narrative to be a chain of events in cause-effect relationship occurring in time and space. A narrative is thus what we usually mean by the term “story,” although we shall be using that term in a slightly different way later. Typically, a narrative begins with one situation; a series of changes occurs according to a pattern of cause and effect; finally, a new situation arises that brings about the end of the narrative. (Bordwell & Thompson, 2001, p. 60)

It is apparent in this definition that causality plays a central role in determining if a sequence of events constitutes a narrative or not. This definition is simple and clear, and it

13 stipulates the necessity of cause and effect, which is not the case in other writers’ definitions of narrative. In chapter 12 of the book Narrative Across Media, Marie-Laure Ryan provides an interesting definition of narrative: “a narrative text is one that brings a world to the mind (setting) and populates it with intelligent agents (characters). These agents participate in actions and happenings (events, plot), which cause global changes in the narrative world” (Ryan, 2004, p. 337). She outlines five properties of digital media in order to look at how they influence narrativity. These properties are: Reactive and interactive nature; Multiple sensory and semiotic channels; Networking capabilities; Volatile signs; and Modularity. Seymour Chatman adds some complexity to the definition, asking what the essential parts comprising a narrative might be:

Taking poetics as a rationalist discipline, we may ask, as does the linguist about language: what are the necessary components – and only those – of a narrative? Struc- turalist theory argues that each narrative has two parts: a story (histoire), the content or chain of events (actions, happenings), plus what may be called the existents (characters, items of setting); and a discourse (discours), that is, the expression, the means by which the content is communicated. (Chatman, 1980, p. 19)

Here Chatman categorizes actions and actors in their relation to story and discourse. In other words, the story contains characters and actions, while the discourse is the way in which the story is imparted to the audience.

2.1.4 Narrative and Plot

Indeed, the classic structure of plot that we are familiar with today derives from Greek tragedy and its explication by Aristotle. In the Richard Janko translation of The Poetics, the constituents of plot are described:

But the most important of these is the structure of the incidents. For (i) tragedy is a representation not of human beings but of action and life. Happiness and unhappiness lie in action, and the end [of life] is a sort of action, not a quality; people are of a certain sort according to their characters, but happy or the opposite according to their actions. So [the actors] do not act in order to represent the characters, but they include the characters for the sake of their actions. Consequently the incidents, i.e. the plot, are the end of tragedy, and the end is most important of all. (Aristotle, [ca. 335 B.C.]/1987, p. 7)

The emphasis is on action, the events that take place in the story, even more than other elements. Digital games have a unique way of incorporating action, allowing a feedback loop between the game and the player. Action in itself affords a variety of other pleasures. I will be returning to this idea with a closer look at how plot is conceived in terms of arcs later in this chapter. As Kristin Thompson explains in Storytelling in the New Hollywood, a narrative arc consists of a setup, complication, development, resolution and denouement

14 (Thompson, 1999). This formula has had some variation in different media and in different historical eras, but it is very useful to us today.

2.1.5 Narrative Knowledge

In order to better explain the factors that shape the way that a story is understood by an audience, I would like to briefly discuss the idea of narrative knowledge. This centers on what is generally known by the audience and what is known by the characters within the storyworld, resulting in sensations of mystery, surprise or dramatic irony. This concept was introduced to me in Jim Bizzocchi’s course in New Media (Bizzocchi, 2009) at Simon Fraser University. Bizzocchi combined perspectives from Bordwell and Thompson along with writings from Syd Field to help students to consider what the audience knows, how that is filtered through the viewpoint of the characters and what the characters themselves might know. A summary of some of the most relevant ideas and their sources follows. Bordwell and Thompson write about the formal expectations that film audiences have when watching an ongoing narrative.

Why does an interrupted song or an uncompleted story frustrate us? Because of our urge for form. We realize that the system of relationships within the work has not yet been completed. Something more is needed to make the form whole and satisfying. We have been caught up in the interrelations among elements, and in the absence of cues we cannot develop and complete the patterns.” (Bordwell & Thompson, 2001, p. 41)

Furthermore, they write that as a work of art, the craftsmanship of filmmaking instills in the viewer a particular way of looking at events: “We watch a pattern which is no longer just ‘out there’ in the everyday world, but which has become a calculated part within a self-contained whole” (Bordwell & Thompson, 2001, p. 41). Bordwell and Thompson make it clear that over the course of a film, viewers derive satisfaction in their evolving understanding of the “organizing laws or rules” that govern the film as a system of representation (Bordwell & Thompson, 2001, p. 41). The feeling of suspense in a plot is deeply tied with the expectations of form. Elaborating on this idea, Bordwell and Thompson write that

Expectation pervades our experience of art. In reading a mystery story, we expect that a solution will be offered at some point, usually the end. In listening to a piece of music, we expect repetition of a melody or a motif…In looking at a painting, we search for what we expect to be the most significant features, then scan the less prominent portions. From beginning to end, our involvement with a work of art depends largely on expectations. (Bordwell & Thompson, 2001, p. 42)

Bordwell and Thompson write that the delay that thwarts our “urge for completion” of the patterns that we perceive in a narrative is what creates suspense (Bordwell & Thompson, 2001, p. 42). They go on to explain that similarly, surprise results from an expectation that

15 has been subverted. Puzzlement, shock and disorientation for the viewer come about in response to the ways that their expectations have been cultivated by the author. This is relevant to the crafting of narrative paths. If an A, B, C pattern is expected and a game player encounters A, B, D instead, there can be a disconnect. What is it in games that allows us to ‘play along’ with a story that has uncertain outcomes? The norms of genre contribute to the expectations of the viewer when it comes to ways that a story is interpreted. Bordwell and Thompson write

Very often conventions demarcate art from life, saying implicitly, ‘In artworks of this sort the laws of everyday reality don’t operate. By the rules of this game, something “unreal” can happen.’ All stylized art, from opera, ballet, and pantomime to slapstick comedy, depends on the audience’s willingness to suspend the laws of ordinary experience and to accept particular conventions. It is simply beside the point to insist that such conventions are unreal or to ask why Tristan sings to Isolde or why Buster Keaton doesn’t smile. Very often the most relevant prior experience for perceiving form is not everyday experience but previous encounters with works having similar conventions. (Bordwell & Thompson, 2001, p. 44)

These conventions of communication are not limited to film. In video games, as in film, much of the viewer’s understanding is created through the representation of point of view. Camera angles are important in creating these perceptions. In games, cutscenes will usually show an event occurring in the third-person POV that is most associated with film. In contrast, gameplay itself may be in first-person POV. I observed both forms in the games that I selected for my investigation. In NHL 12, the camera angles privilege the third-person POV that is closely associated with real games on broadcast television. This has a profound effect on the gameplay: in this EA title, the player of has the advantage of always watching the puck from a bird’s eye view and the ability to change focus immediately from an athlete on the periphery to one who is in the offensive zone with the potential to shoot. All of these perspectives play a role in the development of narrative knowledge that is accrued and acted upon by the player.

2.1.6 Immersion

In their paper on gameplay immersion, Ermi and Mäyra propose three types of immersion: Imaginative, Sensory, and Challenge-based (Ermi & Mäyrä, 2007). The imaginative mode of immersion relates to that type explained by Coleridge, where a listener or viewer is held raptly in the unfolding of the story. Ermi and Mäyra write that sensory immersion can result from impressive sound and visuals that overpower other sensory information. The challenge-based type of immersion fits well with that experienced in a digital game, where the player’s skill and putting that skill to use in a challenging environment creates an experience of flow. In another take on immersion, Calleja seeks to replace the metaphor of immersion in games with the concept of ‘incorporation’ where the player is within the world and present

16 to others within it as well. He creates a diagram with six forms of “involvement,” including one specifically relevant to game narrative. In his essay, he wants to distinguish between the immersion felt when watching a movie and that felt when playing a game. He insists that they are not the same, that the concept does not travel across the forms without changing. (Calleja, 2007a). He maintains that “Treating them as experiential equivalents ignores the specific qualities of each” (2007a, p. 84). There is an important connection to be noted with the “oscillation” between the states of immediacy and immersion as described by Bolter and Grusin (Bolter & Grusin, 1999, p. 19). Immersion has a significant parallel with immediacy, as experienced in video games and other media. Immersion and hypermediation are also related in complex ways. When playing a game, are decisions necessarily hypermediated? Is the experience immediate and immersive? Does the player oscillate between these states, and what factors affect any oscillation? There are complicated dynamics acting between immediacy and hypermediation, as well as the related dynamics between narrative pleasure and ludic play – all of which require further investigation. I will return to this in the Methods chapter.

2.1.7 Personal Narrative

Building on the idea of immersion, Gordon Calleja writes about the player’s relationship to story in a game, distinguishing between the designed or embedded story and the story as understood by the player:

On one hand we can look at narrative elements like a game-world’s history and background, or the back-story of a current mission or quest. I will refer to this as the ‘designed narrative’. On the other hand we can take narrative to refer to the player’s interpretation of the game-play experience. I will refer to this as ‘personal narrative’. (Calleja, 2007b, p. 87)

Calleja distinguishes the ‘designed narrative’ pertaining to what story elements that the game designers have overtly incorporated into the game from the ‘personal narrative’ that is experienced by a player. To provide an example, Calleja cites his experience playing World of Warcraft when his avatar was at an early level in the game. During the course of one journey across the landscape, he encountered obstacles and NPCs that formed a unique personal narrative for him. In contrast, Calleja notes that in the game Max Payne, there is a backstory about an assault on Payne’s family that is a good example of a designed narrative. In some cases, the two narratives can be quite different. The designed narrative and player narrative can have more or less emphasis in a particular game. Calleja cites Phoenix Wright on the Nintendo DS as a game that encourages the player to engage with the designed narrative in order to progress in the game, while on the other hand, Doom requires no engagement in the backstory on the part of the player. Calleja indicates that “Personal narrative accounts for the creation of a narrative based on the situated actions of the player

17 and the resultant outcomes” and that “the lived experience of game-play is stored, like all other lived experience, in the player’s memory, with certain episodes leaving a stronger imprint than others” (2007b, p. 87). In Calleja’s view, an increase in player agency lets the player experience visible results of their own impact on the storyworld. This in turn creates a feedback loop of more rewarding engagement and “memorable personal narrative” (2007b, p. 87). It seems clear that in this view, narrative is blended with the mechanics of the game state in a way that encourages a satisfying experience. Another interesting point is that after the gameplay is completed, what resides in the player’s memory is a composite of the designed story elements and the player’s own traversal of the gameworld.

2.1.8 Micronarrative

The categorization of atomic units of narrative has been pursued in the writings of Struc- turalists such as Roland Barthes, as well as Russian Formalists including Tomashevsky and Propp, and has been known since then by many names. My adoption of the term micronarrative is based on the definition introduced by Henry Jenkins in his essay on environmental storytelling in games (2004) and brought further into focus by Jim Bizzocchi (Bizzocchi, 2007) in his framework for analyzing narrative in games. Jenkins writes that “Narrative can also enter games on the level of localized incident, or what I am calling micronarratives. We might understand how micronarratives work by thinking about the Odessa Steps sequence in Sergei Eisenstein’s Battleship Potemkin.” Citing Eisenstein’s use of the word ‘attraction’ to describe emotionally charged moments, Jenkins asserts that game designers likewise have at their disposal ‘memorable moments’ which come from sensations (speed in a racing game), perceptions (a glimpse of big sky in a snowboarding game), and “short narrative units” (Jenkins, 2004, p. 125). Bizzocchi builds on this concept, writing that “one can frame game design as a process that sets the stage and the conditions of a series of micro-narrative events that are triggered and completed (or not) by the player’s success or failure in the moment of play” (2007, p. 7). A very useful and relevant distinction made by Bizzocchi here is the positioning of diegesis and mimesis with the addition of praxis – story as told, story as shown, and story as enacted – as a conjoined grouping. In a computer game, very often the story is presented in a way that can be flexibly rear- ranged according to choices made by the player. “Naturally, due to the nature of interactive narratives, different players can experience these narrative arcs in different orders. This requires a modularity of design, as narrative elements will be encountered in various orders depending on the interactive decisions of the player” (Bizzocchi, Nixon, DiPaola, & Funk, 2013). Scale is a subsidiary lens to be explored within the hierarchical nature of micronarrative. Units are nested within one another at different scales, sometimes arranged in complex patterns. “Narrative units range from the game-long story framework that forms the

18 backbone of the experience, down through all varieties of game levels, missions, and side quests, which are in turn made up of a number of individual micronarratives” (Bizzocchi et al., 2013). Among game players, this concept is widely recognized, as it is employed in various ways within game levels, missions, and side quests in digital games as we know them today.

2.1.9 Action Games

Why investigate “Action” games and not RPG, Adventure, or similar genres known for their relationship with narrative? Action-Adventure games have long been associated with storytelling from the earliest days of Colossal Cave, but there has been little focus in the literature on Action games in general, let alone the relation of action games to narrative concerns. This may show an under-theorized category of game genres to explore. Ernest Adams, a well-known game designer and author of several games textbooks writes that

When most people hear the phrase video game, they tend to think of action games. The reason is historical: Almost all the earliest video games were action games, and some of those early games—Asteroids, Pac-Man, Space Invaders—have become iconic rep- resentatives of the action genre. However, the genre is vast and covers just about any imaginable activity that can be characterized in terms of physical challenges. (Adams, 2014, p. 392)

He later expands on his definition and clarifies it, writing that “An action game is one in which the majority of challenges presented are tests of the player’s physical skills and coordination. Puzzle-solving, tactical conflict, and exploration challenges are often present as well” (Adams, 2014, p. 392). It is clear that the emphasis is on player reflexes and the fast performance of controller moves that spell success and failure in the course of the game. Other writers offer a similar definition of the genre. In the Routledge Companion to Video Game Studies, Dominic Arsenault has written an extensive entry on the subject of Action games, noting that it a grouping that has not received much critical attention: “Even taking into account that ‘there is a curious lack of genre studies’ in video game studies (Klevjer, 2006), surprisingly little has been written on ‘action games.’ Part of the problem might be that such a categorization is not specific enough, such that any study of a group of games will focus on a given ‘subgenre’, such as the first-person shooter” (Arsenault, 2014, p. 223). Arsenault claims that action is closer to a “super-genre” of games because it is based on higher-level qualities such as reflexes and skill. He writes that “The defining factor of ‘action’ games thus appears to be the importance of the player’s sensori-motor skills (which includes both hand–eye coordination and reaction time) in performing the various actions needed to progress through the game’s challenges” (2014, p. 225). Arcade games, racing games, fighting games, platformers, run-and-gun games all fell historically into this overarching category. Arsenault notes that these types “provided a good way of maximizing

19 gameplay situations with a minimum of graphical assets and implementation, contrary to puzzles, which must be hand-designed and articulated independently” (2014, p. 230). He adds that the action-adventure hybrid provides “a good way to mix the action gameplay logic of repetition with a progression logic of constant renewal that creates interest for the player” (Arsenault, 2014, p. 230). Another advantage of the hybrid is that it helps “players gather and conserve a kind of forward momentum – that is, a feeling that the action is going someplace interesting rather than being a string of disconnected challenges” (Arsenault, 2014, p. 230). Finally, he initiates a call to scholars to explore the topic further with the assertion that “There is, more than ever, a need for sustained theoretical work on game actions and action games if we are to fully account for the diversity of game forms and structures, for both the past and the future” (Arsenault, 2014, p. 230). In the same volume, Andrew Baerg writes about the dearth of research on sports games despite how important the genre has been to the history of video games. He writes about three sub-genres of sports games, including management simulations that emphasize tracking statistics, extreme simulations that use exaggerated physics and action simulations, which he describes in this way:

The third and most popular sub-genre of sports games is the action simulation. Ac- tion simulations represent an attempt to unite the quantitative realism offered by the management simulation with the direct control offered by extreme simulations. Users subsequently guide athletes on virtual playing fields while generating plausible statistical results. (Baerg, 2014, p. 268)

Baerg notes that these action simulations are “committed to a visual fidelity when it comes to modeling athletes, their respective uniforms and equipment, and the stadia in which they play” (2014, p. 268). He notes that these types of games emphasize the emulation of a televised sports broadcast, relying on similar camera angles. As examples of the genre, Baerg specifies that

Sports games in the action simulation category include the now annual iterations of the FIFA Football (Electronic Arts Sports, 1993–present), Madden Football (Electronic Arts Tiburon, 1993–present), NHL (Electronic Arts Canada, 1991–present), and NBA 2K (Visual Concepts, 1999–present) franchises. (Baerg, 2014, p. 268)

This categorization shows how a sports game like NHL 12 has more in common with a stealth shooter game than meets the eye. With ‘action’ as an over-arching genre of games featuring quick reflexes and skilled movements, there is a reasonable basis for grouping sports games and shooters together.

2.2 Conceptual Framework

My theoretical framework, a collection of interrelated concepts that are highlighted here, will help to clarify what I hope to measure and what relationships I am looking for in the

20 material. My intention is to situate the exploration of narrative units within the dialogue about narrative and games. My first group of concepts highlights “Poetics” as the focus of my research – with the goal of understanding game design by using close reading. My next conceptual grouping is that of narrative in games, particularly the importance of narrativity in framing narrative experiences. A third constellation of concepts involves the relationship of immersion to immediacy and hypermediation as explained by Bolter and Grusin. These three conceptual groupings address foundational concepts of intellectual/methodological orientation (Poetics), specific design focus (Narrative and Narrativity in Games), and player experience (Narrative Immersion and Ludic Immersion). At the heart of my study is the pursuit of practical concepts and techniques applied towards the analysis and better understanding of the narrative potential in games. Janet Murray has written eloquently about such possibilities in Hamlet on the Holodeck. Some of the most influential concepts have come from her chapters on Agency and Immersion. As a response to Coleridge’s oft-quoted call2 to poets to invoke a ‘willing suspension of disbelief,’ Murray instead posits the active creation of belief as a modern counterpoint. In this thesis, I hope to demonstrate a validation of many of these concepts in order to build upon the existing knowledge of storytelling in games.

2.2.1 Narrative Analysis and Games

In his analytical framework for games and narrative, Jim Bizzocchi writes that the recent academic struggle between “narratologists” and “ludologists” was exacerbated by con- fusion over the roles of different kinds immersion in games and the role of narrative in games. (2007). Bizzocchi suggests a number of components – character, storyworld, emotion, narrative interface, and micro-narrative – as part of a framework to better analyze the relationship of narrative to games. Bizzocchi writes that the nature of immersion allows for both the willing suspension of disbelief as proposed by Coleridge, and the flow state described by Csikszentmihalyi. Bizzocchi notes that these concepts map neatly onto two of the categories of immersion (‘imaginative immersion’ and ‘challenge-based immersion,’ respectively) introduced by Ermi and Mäyra (2005) on fundamental gameplay experience components. In Bizzocchi’s framework, Storyworld is defined as “the environment within which the game unfolds” (2007, p. 3). Bizzocchi points to Jesper Juul’s hierarchy of storyworld representations (2005) which includes levels such as ‘abstract’ (Tetris is given as the exam-

2In Chapter 14 of Biographica Litteraria, Coleridge writes about the suspension of disbelief. The oft-cited passage arose from a discussion with Wordsworth about creative poetical experiments requiring “a semblance of truth sufficient to procure for these shadows of imagination that willing suspension of disbelief for the moment, which constitutes poetic faith” (Coleridge, 1817/1977, p. 518).

21 ple), ‘iconic’ (standard playing cards), ‘incoherent’ (Donkey Kong) and ‘coherent’ (adventure games) as examples. By adopting Jenkins’ idea of “environmental storytelling” (2004), Biz- zocchi notes that game designers have a tool that “not only provides a stage where story and game can play together, but can also evoke pre-existing narrative associations, em- bed narrative information within the mise-en-scene, and provide necessary resources for the gameplay itself” (Bizzocchi, 2007, p. 4). All of this contributes to the experience of a compelling Storyworld in a game. Characters are an important part of Bizzocchi’s framework as well. These are the heroic or villainous NPCs and avatars who inhabit the world within the game. Bizzocchi writes that “In the broader world of narrative construction, character is seen as the key to reader identification,” (Bizzocchi, 2007, p. 5) and cites Salen and Zimmerman’s (Salen & Zimmerman, 2004) preference for J. Hillis Miller’s (1995) emphasis on personification as key to narrative construction in games. For Bizzocchi, this is the site of the process where character and meaning are actively constructed by the player during gameplay (2007, p. 5). In games as well as in other narrative media, the representation of character plays an important role in the ability of the viewer to be drawn into the storyworld. Emotion is another part of Bizzocchi’s framework that adds complexity. In this case, “both the emotions shown by the game’s characters and those elicited in the player” (Biz- zocchi, 2007, p. 3) are worthy of investigation. Bizzocchi relates stories of his students’ experiences of pride, humor and laughter while playing games. He also cites Bernard Per- ron’s (Perron, 2005) work on distinguishing between the emotions that come from identifying with what characters are emoting onscreen, and the different emotions that arise from the player during play itself. Bizzocchi notes that there is an interesting correlation between Perron’s three categories, and the three qualities of immersion discussed in Ermi and Mäyra’s work. For example, Perron’s “Fiction” emotion can be correlated with Ermi and Mäyra’s “imaginative immersion” (Bizzocchi, 2007, p. 5). Bizzocchi’s framework also features an inquiry on the ways in which interface design in games can exhibit narrative possibilities. He discusses his research with the CD-ROM Ceremony of Innocence, where he addressed the “potential disconnection between the pleasure of story and the experience of interaction” (2007, p. 6). To move smoothly across this continuum, he suggests two design strategies that can be used. The first strategy involves a “narrative infusion” based on the visual qualities of the book such as font and layout, combined with the multimedia capabilities of the CD-ROM, which work together to “express and reinforce narrative concerns” (2007, p. 6). The second strategy involves “the incorporation of narrative into the design of the interface itself” which explored variations on the appearance and behavior of the cursor in Ceremony of Innocence (Bizzocchi, 2007, p. 6). From his personal experience, Bizzocchi also notes the immediacy of the EyeToy video input and the wrist-flicking motion with the Wii remote used in Madden 07 as examples of narrativized interface.

22 Finally, Bizzocchi introduces “Micro-narrative” as the final element of his game analysis framework. Briefly defined, it includes “smaller moments of narrative flow and coherence that occur within a broader context of game play” (Bizzocchi, 2007, p. 3). According to Biz- zocchi, the form of the micronarrative fits the “classic description of the narrative arc: setup, challenge, development, resolution/climax” (Bizzocchi, 2007, p. 7). In a game, one of the ways that story progresses is through the journey that the player takes through the space of the storyworld. Bizzocchi adds that “This progress can be further articulated and segmented through the use of game levels, which function as guidelines for the player experience of subsidiary arcs, each level with its own version of setup, complications, development and resolution” (Bizzocchi, 2007, p. 7). One of the central problems in a narrative focused game is the tension between tight authorial control and the demands of the interactive experience. Bizzocchi also notes Chris Crawford’s (2003a) derision of poor designerly strategies in interactive narratives which rely on ‘foldback,’ ‘obstructionist’ and ‘kill ’em if they stray’ tactics to channel the progress of the player (Bizzocchi, 2007, cited on p. 7). On a smaller scale, Bizzocchi notes that it is useful to consider the possibilities available in gameplay for “interim resolutions and localized climaxes” that fall under the power of the player, and yet contribute to the advancement of the story in a meaningful way. The term “micro-narrative” gained widespread recognition in Henry Jenkins’ (2004) chapter on narrative architecture in the book First Person. Bizzocchi argues that micro-narratives can be seen in gameplay and that game design itself can be seen “as a process that sets the stage and the conditions of a series of micro-narrative events that are triggered and completed (or not) by the player’s success or failure in the moment of play” (2007, p. 7). He notes that in these experiences, the narrative modes of diegesis, mimesis and praxis – (story as told, story as shown, and story as enacted) – are actualized in a conjoined fashion. This is a key concept that I will return to in the final chapters of this thesis. Bizzocchi’s text offers a useful framework that can readily be applied to the analysis of games as artifacts possessing the capability to support and extend narrative. These categories can offer paths for investigating the characteristics of existing game titles, as well as providing inspiration for the current research in this thesis.

2.2.2 Essential Properties of Interactive Media

In Hamlet on the Holodeck, Janet Murray outlines and describes the four characteristics of the computer that make it a powerful literary tool. She writes that:

Digital environments are procedural, participatory, spatial, and encyclopedic. The first two properties make up most of what we mean by the vaguely used word i_nteractive_; the remaining two properties help to make digital creations seem as explorable and extensive as the actual world, making up much of what we mean when we say that cyberspace is immersive. (Murray, 1998a, p. 71)

23 Murray indicates that the first two design channels – procedural and participatory – inform our concept of interactivity, while the second two – spatial and encyclopedic – are the qualities that contribute to immersion. In its procedural mode, the computer is more than just a conduit for content; it is an engine that embodies “complex, contingent behaviors” (Murray, 1998a, p. 72). She writes about ELIZA as an ‘improv partner’ that follows rigid rulesets of dialog in order to impersonate a psychotherapist’s methodology, which gives the program a certain believability. The ability to write rules for the computer that reflect a recognizable interpretation of the world gives the potential for compelling storytelling, as Murray observes in the ELIZA example. When focusing on the participatory nature of the digital medium, Murray uses the adventure game Zork as an example. She writes that “the primary representational property of the computer is the codified rendering of responsive behaviors” (1998a, p. 74) which ultimately results in their interactive appeal. To illustrate, Murray writes that “Zork was set up to provide the player with opportunities for making decisions and to dramatically enact the results of those decisions” (1998a, p. 77) which focuses on the player’s experience. In this section she uses the phrase, “scripting the interactor” as a technique or goal for designers to construct a familiar role for the player. She writes, “By using these literary and gaming conventions to constrain the players’ behaviors to a dramatically appropriate but limited set of commands, the designers could focus their inventive powers on making the virtual world as responsive as possible to every possible combination of these commands.” This is something that is potentially unique – the experiential drama that happens here is “only possible in a digital environment” (1998a, p. 79). In the section on the Spatial qualities of media, Murray discusses the navigational qualities of the computer. In describing the text world created in Zork, she writes that “The computer screen is displaying a story that is also a place” (1998a, p. 82). In describing the way of moving through links in a student interactive fiction project, she writes that “The navigational space of the computer allows us to express a sequence of thoughts as a kind of dance” (1998a, p. 82). The metaphor of the labyrinth is used here to indicate the similarities in moving through lexia as though they were spatial, by selecting links which forge a path. When considering the Encyclopedic nature of media, Murray highlights the immense capacity for storage that computers have, and how that is increased by networking. Because of the compression afforded by bits, “we can now conceive of a single comprehensive global library of paintings, films, books, newspapers, television programs, and databases, a library that would be accessible from any point on the globe” (1998a, p. 84). This storage availability opens up creative possibilities that would have been daunting in physical form and allows for the handling of multiple endings and epic storylines. To illustrate, Murray discusses games like SimCity and Civilization which simulate entire social systems and create narrative possibilities. These terms that Murray has provided are useful as tools to approach different examples of digital environments, to help in examining their components. Some

24 have bearing on the qualities of immersion and agency that are working together in digital artifacts. In addition, Murray’s ideas about the aesthetic qualities of digital media have been highly influential. In the chapter on immersion, Murray describes immersion as “a metaphorical term derived from the physical experience of being submerged in water” (1998a, p. 98). This feeling invokes “the sensation of being surrounded by a completely other reality, as different as water is from air, that takes over all of our attention, our whole perceptual appa- ratus” (1998a, p. 98). She suggests that the importance of narrative is that it allows make believe experiences through its role as a ‘transitional object’ and “A good story serves the same purpose for adults, giving us something safely outside ourselves (because it is made up by someone else) upon which we can project our feelings” (1998a, p.100). Maintain- ing the fourth wall in a play is one way that the otherness is enforced. Understanding the boundaries as an audience is crucial to participation. Murray writes, “We need to define the boundary conventions that will allow us to surrender to the enticements of the virtual environment” (1998a, p. 103). Threshold objects allow the designer to structure an experience as an immersive virtual visit, much like what happens at an amusement park. Murray references Coleridge’s concept of the suspension of disbelief, and updates it to better fit with new media. She suggests that instead of a passive suspension, that what interactors actually experience is something much more active, where they are using their own imaginative power to engage with the material. She writes that “Because of our desire to experience immersion, we focus our attention on the enveloping world and we use our intelligence to reinforce rather than to question the reality of the experience” (1998a, p. 110). I see this as similar to the idea of make-believe – there is a generative quality to the effort of imagin- ing fictions. Through engaging with the affordances of the digital game or software, we as players take part in manifesting our belief in the fictional world. Other elements that Mur- ray discusses in regard to interaction involve the use of masks and/or avatars, LARPs and MUDs. Murray gives examples that show both the need for remaining within the boundaries of a magic circle and the importance of participating to strengthen the immersive experience. These ideas are similar to the work done by Ermi and Mäyra (Ermi & Mäyrä, 2007) to categorize types of immersion, and the discussion of the magic circle contained in Rules of Play (Salen & Zimmerman, 2004). Agency is another important aspect of the participatory experience of interacting with new media that Murray describes. She notes that our understanding of agency is shaped by the structures that we are already familiar with from games (1998a, p. 129). Part of the pleasure of agency comes from navigating through space. The adventure game, for example, often relies on moving through a kind of maze. Alternately, a rhizome structure allows movement from any node to another without closure or boundaries. In discussing games and stories, Murray notes that “In fact, narrative satisfaction can be directly opposed to game satisfaction, as the endings of Myst, widely hailed as the most artistically success-

25 ful story puzzle of the early 1990s, made clear” (1998a, p. 140). In Murray’s discussion of the possible endings of Myst she observes that the positive ending which brought a happy resolution to the story was less captivating than the “bad” ending where the player experienced a change of perspective that created a stunning reversal (1998a, p. 141). She follows the discussion with another about games as symbolic dramas in which the player as protagonist encounters challenges and is rewarded or punished. As such, “games are ritual actions allowing us to symbolically enact the patterns that give meaning to our lives” (1998a, p. 143). Many games are based on a contest structure. Fighting games offer a direct sense of agency with the immediate feedback that often comes with the simulated weapons in the game. Murray cites the six-shooter in Mad Dog McCree as a threshold object that was integral to the experience of immersion in her playing of the game, and was lacking when playing the same game with a multi-button controller (1998a, p. 146). After discussing the various constructivist roles that players in MUDs, virtual reality and LARPs experience, Mur- ray tackles the question of authorship in the interactive context. She reminds us that “There is a distinction between playing a creative role within an authored environment and having authorship of the environment itself” (1998a, p. 152). The point she makes is that “Author- ship in electronic media is procedural. Procedural authorship means writing the rules by which the texts appear as well as writing the texts themselves” (1998a, p. 152). To sum up, she writes that “The procedural author creates not just a set of scenes but a world of narrative possibilities” (1998a, p. 153). This underlines the challenges experienced in the design of game stories. Not only is there a story structure to be concerned about, but there is also a need by the designer to craft a narrative world with its own internal rules and logic. In the Transformation chapter, Murray highlights the feeling of change of identity and meaning that can take place in the interactive experience. Murray uses the descriptor “kaleidoscopic narrative” to help in understanding how our current media creates a mosaic of elements. These can be spatial, temporal or participatory. She writes about juxtapositions of scenes that can reached through different paths, giving an example of a family drama where “The discovery of an infidelity, for instance, might be represented by a neutrally dramatized scene – perhaps a wife reaching for the playback button on an answering machine in the presence of her guilty husband – that would gain in narrative significance when reached from different paths” (Murray, 1998a, p. 160). Murray adds that “One sequence might involve the comic recklessness of the husband; another the narcissistic self-absorption of the wife; a third the future devastation of the child, observing this pivotal moment unseen from the doorway” which creates an interesting intersection of emotional experiences (Murray, 1998a, p. 160). The story environment itself can be morphing, as Murray notes in discussing the childhood world of the Bronte siblings, as well as the world created by the Miller broth- ers when designing Myst. Through testing out ideas in these fantasy worlds, many possible combinations of events and outcomes can be explored. Murray writes that “Enacted events have a transformative power that exceeds both narrated and conventionally dramatized

26 events because we assimilate them as personal experiences” (Murray, 1998a, p. 170). The possibilities of great therapeutic value in virtual realities is promising in this regard. In defending the nascent medium, Murray asserts that “We cannot bring to a transformative, shape-shifting medium the same expectations of static shapeliness and finality that belong to linear media. But that does not mean that we will forgo a sense of completeness and emotional release. Instead, we will learn to appreciate the different kinds of closure a kaleidoscopic medium can offer” (Murray, 1998a, p. 180). In other words, despite the difficulties inherent to the project of combining authorial control in storytelling with participatory agency, satisfying narrative closure can still be found.

2.2.3 Narrative Architecture and Games

How designers take advantage of the spatial qualities of games is the focus of a chapter by Henry Jenkins in the book First Person. He writes that games fit into “a much older tradition of spatial stories, which have often taken the form of hero’s odysseys, quest myths, or travel narratives” (Jenkins, 2004, p. 122). To illustrate, he notes how a particular section of Tolstoy’s War and Peace could have been easily communicated in a ‘god’ game like Civilization (Jenkins, 2004, p. 122). He highlights four ways in which the environment of a game can contribute to narrative immersion: through Evocative Spaces – creating a storyworld that draws upon atmosphere and themes from other stories; Enacting Stories – where players perform or witness narrative events through larger goals or localized incidents (micronarrative). “Narrative can also enter games on the level of localized incident, or what I am calling micronarratives. We might understand how micronarratives work by thinking about the Odessa Steps sequence in Sergei Eisenstein’s Battleship Potemkin” (Jenkins, 2004, p.125). He explains that like a game, the steps are a “contested space” where the Cossacks and the Peasants are advancing against one another. Jenkins goes on: “Eisenstein used the term ‘attraction’ to describe such emotionally packed elements in his work; contemporary game designers might call them ‘memorable moments.’ Just as some memorable moments in games depend on sensations (the sense of speed in a racing game) or perceptions (the sudden expanse of sky in a snowboarding game) as well as narrative hooks, Eisenstein used the word ‘attractions’ broadly to describe any element within a work that produces a profound emotional impact, and theorized that the themes of the work could be communicated across and through these discrete elements” (Jenkins, 2004, p. 125); Embedded Narratives – where players construct a mental model by collecting story information distributed throughout the game space. “The game world becomes a kind of information space, a memory palace” (Jenkins, 2004, p. 126); and Emergent Nar- ratives, where events are not pre-scripted but evolve based on the play of parameters set by player interaction. Jenkins writes of the characters in The Sims that

27 The characters have a will of their own, not always submitting easily to the player’s control, as when a depressed protagonist refuses to seek employment, preferring to spend hour upon hour soaking in their bath or moping on the front porch. Characters are given desires, urges, and needs, which can come into conflict with each other, and thus produce dramatically compelling encounters. Characters respond emotionally to events in their environment, as when characters mourn the loss of a loved one. (Jenkins, 2004, p. 128)

Adding to this, the players then exert their own agenda by creating situations where money is depleted and food cannot be purchased for the game character. The current state of the environment along with the mood of the character combine in these scenarios to make sometimes unpredictable outcomes. Accordingly, players are encouraged to experiment with forming plots. Jenkins writes that “The gibberish language and flashing symbols allow us to map our own meanings onto the conversations, yet the tone of voice and body language can powerfully express specific emotional states, which encourage us to understand those interactions within familiar plot situations” (2004, p. 128). This illustrates a different method of creating stories within games, as a kind of collaboration between the characteristics of the system and the playful experiments that the interactor can accomplish within the constraints therein. Embedded and Emergent methods of narrative both have a place within the analysis of narrative in gameplay.

2.2.4 Games and Narrative Systems

In the book Rules of Play, one chapter is of particular interest to my study. It is Chapter 26, “Games as Narrative Play”. This chapter focuses on “the role of narrative as experienced through gameplay” (Salen & Zimmerman, 2004, p. 378). The authors go on to say that “Our position in this schema is that the concept of narrative offers just one way of looking at games” (2004, p. 379). They summarize J. Hillis Miller’s definition of narrative, which is composed of three elements: Situation, Character and Form. Miller writes that any narrative must contain the following elements: “beginning, sequence, reversal; personification, or more accurately and technically stated, prosopopoeia, bringing protagonist, antagonist, and witness ‘to life’; some patterning or repetition of elements surrounding a nuclear figure or complex word” (Miller, 1995, p. 75). Salen and Zimmerman use this description to locate interesting parallels between the way that narrative is instantiated in language, and how it is expressed in video games. They begin with Miller’s first component, a Situation. In their paraphrasing of Miller, Salen and Zimmerman write, “A narrative has an initial state, a change in that state, and insight brought about by that change. This process constitutes the events of a narrative” (2004, p. 380). State changes are important procedural events that are communicated in a video game. In a written narrative, the state changes are depicted through description. Observing Miller’s second component, Character, Salen and Zimmerman write that “A narrative is not merely a series of events, but a personification of events through a medium

28 such as language…This component references narratives as not just events that take place in the world, but as represented events, events that occur via systems of representation” (Salen & Zimmerman, 2004, p. 380).Taking Miller’s original reference to the literary technique of prosopopoeia, where an abstract idea is personified, such as in “the wind cries Mary”, Salen and Zimmerman point to the procedural representation that games provide as a medium. Games actively personify character through the execution of code rather than the crafting of words that evoke beings in the world. The final component is Form. Salen and Zimmerman paraphrase Miller, saying that “Representation is constituted by patterning and repetition. This is true on every level of a narrative, whether it is the material form of the story or its conceptual themes” (Salen & Zimmerman, 2004, p. 380). The definition of narrative provided by Miller is so compelling to Salen and Zimmerman because his model “helps us understand exactly which components of a game come into focus when we consider them from a narrative perspective,” (Salen & Zimmerman, 2004, p. 380). It is the “patterning and repetition” that they describe here which will become a key component of the way that narrative arcs in games can be categorized for the purposes of this thesis.

2.3 Traditional Narrative Structure: Arcs and Acts

I will be departing from Laurel’s insistence that the prime model for interactive narrative should be confined to drama. Coming from an approach rooted in narratology, I believe that plot patterns transcend any one particular medium. Stories can be told in a myriad of forms. The structure and coherence of plot is the focus of my investigation in this thesis. Therefore, I will use precedents in as many forms of storytelling as I can reasonably include here. Oral storytelling may be the earliest way that we know of how people told stories. From our viewpoint in time, we can rely on anthropologists to explain some of this. Western literature anoints the ancient Greeks as originators of the more formal practices of storytelling, in their foundation of a culture where oral and written works both flourished. Poetry and drama are interrelated in history. Continuing in the western tradition, film follows in the footsteps of theatrical plays and finally television is one of the latest entries to the field of linear storytelling. Narrative structures in prose fiction have been an object of study for many years. In A Dictionary of Modern Critical Terms, Roger Fowler writes that Narrative Structure is:

The shape of a story’s trajectory. Every story is projected from a state of rest by a force of some kind in an arc of rising tension until it reaches the apogee where it begins to fall towards a point of impact. This trajectory represents the ‘unity of action’ proclaimed by Aristotle to be the essential principle of tragedy, but also applicable to related genres such as the epic. (Fowler, 1999, p. 158)

29 This idea of an arc-shaped structure is a recurring one in many definitions. He writes that within this structure of trajectory is found a central turning point, the peripeteia, which by its characteristics reveals the emotional theme of the work (Fowler, 1999). This peripeteia generally marks a change in direction of the action. This may mean that a character’s motivations or approach to solving a problem takes a drastic turn. There may be a sense of a rising and falling pattern, or the repetition of those types of movements. To be more specific about the form of the narrative arc, Fowler adds that

Most models of narrative structure start by assuming a previous state of rest or equilibrium or normality which is disturbed by an outside force of some kind. The condition initiated by this force gets worse until it reaches an extreme degree. At this point another force comes to bear which reverses the process and allows for the gradual resumption of normality or the establishment of a new equilibrium. This homeostatic pattern may have either a social or a psychological function, or both. (Fowler, 1999, p. 159)

This definition helps to establish the idea of a continuous pattern of homeostasis, challenge, climax and resolution. The pattern will be seen again in many forms in the upcoming sections of this chapter. The remaining sections of this chapter describe a variety of narrative units, moving in a roughly chronological fashion from ancient roots in theatre through more contemporary film and television. Then this section continues with the structures found in folktales and literature. The next section introduces the ideas related to narrative units in interactive narratives and video games. Finally, the chapter ends with a brief summary of narrative units overall.

2.3.1 Narrative Units in Theatre

In this section, I will present a brief tour of the narrative units that comprise works in the history of theatre. For centuries the influence of the act structure has been felt in plays designed for a number of media. What are the units of narrative in this ancient form?

Aristotle

In the first section of The Poetics, Aristotle discusses imitation as the underlying structure of the arts, outlining what is imitated and how it is imitated, dividing them into “the medium, the objects, and the manner” (Aristotle, [ca. 335 B.C.]/1961, p. 53). Specifically, he chooses Greek theatrical performances of tragedies as the subject for focus in the book. Tragedy is described by Aristotle as “an imitation of an action that is serious, completed, and of a certain magnitude” ([ca. 335 B.C.]/1961, p. 61). Furthermore, he notes that every Tragedy should contain six aesthetic elements: “Plot, Character, Diction, Thought, Spectacle, Song” ([ca. 335 B.C.]/1961, p. 62). In the ensuing sections of the book, Aristotle goes into greater detail about how plot is constructed in tragic poetry. Plots can be either simple or complex, with the latter including Reversal and/or Recognition in addition to the Change of Fortune

30 that a simple plot conveys ([ca. 335 B.C.]/1961, p. 71). It is worth noting that Aristotle’s focus is on the importance of the sequential events that comprise the plot as the driving force, taking precedence over other features, such as characterization. Our understanding of narrative today is rooted in his definition, invoking ‘action’ over any other ‘qualities.’ Aris- totle further asserts that in order to be complete, a plot must contain a beginning, a middle and an end, unified in a way that is not “haphazard” but that has causal relationships ([ca. 335 B.C.]/1961, p. 65). Afterwards, he briefly discusses Character and then presents more detailed guidelines for writing tragic theatre, mentioning Thought and Diction as elements of importance. Finally, Aristotle ends with some discussion of Epic Poetry, and compares it to Tragic Poetry. Aristotle’s explanation of the dramatic structure that he identified served as a model for narrative construction in many works of fiction over the centuries. He also exemplifies the process of using textual analysis in his research on the poetics of this medium, a point that I will return to in the next chapter on research design.

Freytag 1900

In Chapter 2, Part 2 of Technique of the Drama, German dramatist Gustav Freytag explains the dramatic components under the heading “Five Parts and Three Crises of the Drama.” Like Aristotle, Freytag believes that dramatic action should follow a trajectory containing a beginning middle and end. He writes:

Through the two halves of the action which come closely together at one point, the drama possesses —if one may symbolize its arrangement by lines —a pyramidal structure. It rises from the introduction with the entrance of the exciting forces to the climax, and falls from here to the catastrophe. (Freytag, 1863/1900, p. 114)

Freytag saw this as a trajectory of rising and falling dynamics. The length of the five parts may vary, according to Freytag, being composed of a single scene or a connected series of scenes. However, the climax itself is “usually composed of one chief scene” (Freytag, 1863/1900, p. 114). There is no requirement for the segments to be of any set duration, but the climactic moment in a drama tends to be much briefer in relation to the other segments. Freytag describes the parts here:

These parts of the drama, (a) introduction, (b) rise, (c) climax, (d) return or fall, (e) catastrophe, have each what is peculiar in purpose and in construction. Between them stand three important scenic effects, through which the parts are separated as well as bound together. Of these three dramatic moments, or crises, one, which indicates the beginning of the stirring action, stands between the introduction and the rise; the second, the beginning of the counter-action, between the climax and the return; the third, which must rise once more before the catastrophe, between the return and the catastrophe. They are called here the exciting moment or force, the tragic moment or force, and the moment or force of the last suspense. The operation of the first is necessary to every play; the second and third are good but not indispensable accessories. (Freytag, 1863/1900, pp. 114-115).

31 C

1. 3.

Figure 2.1: Freytag’s triangle, including the points marked 1. Exciting moment; 2. Tragic moment; 3 Moment of Last Suspense.

Unpacking this description, I am providing a diagram in Figure 2.1 which reflects Frey- tag’s triangle with the five parts shown in capital letters and the “moments” marked as numbered points between them. The leftmost part, labeled A, corresponds to the Introduction, which explains the place and time of the action and sets the mood of the piece, according to Freytag. Explaining the Exciting Moment, Freytag writes that this “complication occurs at a point where, in the soul of the hero, there arises a feeling or volition which becomes the occasion of what follows; or where the counter-play resolves to use its lever to set the hero in motion” (Freytag, 1863/ 1900, p. 121). After this has been established, the play continues in “the Rising Movement” which eventually leads to a Climax. Freytag describes it in this way “The climax of the drama is the place in the piece where the results of the rising movement come out strong and decisively; it is almost always the crowning point of a great, amplified scene, enclosed by the smaller connecting scenes of the rising, and of the falling action” (Freytag, 1863/1900, p. 128). He exhorts the poet to make this middle point “vividly conspicuous” to signal the beginning of the fall of the hero. Freytag then explains that the tragic force (See 2. in Figure 2.1) concerns “what seems about to become the highest elevation of the hero, becomes by his untamable pride just the opposite; he is overthrown” which may not be sudden, but gradually instead (Freytag, 1863/1900, p. 131). Freytag acknowledges that the downward

32 movement is the most difficult part of the drama because there tends to be a lull after the climax, and something new must be introduced to bring back interest. This seems very similar to the familiar “second act problem” that is discussed among filmmakers. Writing about the “Force of the Final Suspense,” Freytag indicates that the downfall of the hero is commensurate with the violence of the climax, meant to feel like a necessary consequence of the earlier events. The Catastrophe which is the ending part of the drama and definitive in Freytag’s formula: “if the struggle of a hero has in fact, taken hold of his entire life, it is not old tradition, but inherent necessity, that the poet shall make the complete ruin of that life impressive” (Freytag, 1863/1900, p. 138). In Freytag’s eyes, the ending must be vivid but also reasonable and necessary. Understanding some of the parts of theatrical drama and how dramatists tried to construct their stories is useful in the context of the screenwriters who in the early twentieth century, began to take this to heart.

Lanouette 2012

In her blog at screentakes.com, writer and educator Jennine Lanouette investigates the history of the three act structure, the origin of which is often mistakenly attributed to Syd Field. Even though her argument has not been peer-reviewed, I find it coherent and persua- sive. Lanouette is in agreement with other scholars who attribute the three-part structure to the writings of Aristotle, specifically, his instruction that a drama should have a beginning a middle and an end. Lanouette notes that these are located more specifically in the component parts that Aristotle identified – prologue, parados, episode, stasimon, and exodos. Lanouette writes, “Prologue and parados were where the story was introduced. Episode and stasimon referred to a dramatic scene (episode) followed by a choral song (stasimon) that could be alternated as many times as necessary to fulfill the story. And exodos was where the story was finally resolved” (Lanouette, 2012). Essentially there are three movements represented: an introduction and dramatic episode, followed by a resolution. This basic pattern is seen repeatedly in many forms of storytelling. Sometimes the number of acts increased. Lanouette notes that in his book Ars Poetica, the Roman theorist Horace changed the three-act formula to five and “declared five-act structure to be the only legitimate form of drama, a belief which dominated western theatrical practice all the way through the neo-classical period of the 16th to 18th centuries” (Lanouette, 2012). Prescriptive ideas in a similar vein emerged in the plays of the nineteenth century when Eugene Scribe advocated a best practices of form that “best pleased the general audience” (Lanouette, 2012). Scribe’s work came to be known as the “well- made plays” technique. Lanouette asserts that shortly thereafter, Freytag’s Technique of the Drama in 1863 “was the first modern playwriting manual to concern itself almost exclusively with developing pragmatic guidelines for the construction of effective drama as

33 opposed to dictating arbitrary rules, promoting abstract theories or outlining preferred thematic subjects” (Lanouette, 2012). By this, Lanouette means to suggest that Freytag had a more practical purpose in mind. Freytag departed from the set of arbitrary rules that seemed to promote temporary trends. He provided a more concrete toolset than his predecessors had done. According to Lanouette, Freytag’s work was important because common screenwriting concepts “such as controlling idea, cause and effect and rising action, were first published in this book”. Lanouette notes that a structural innovation that Frey- tag introduced was “the point at the beginning of the story that sets the drama in motion, which he called the Erregunde Moment (or exciting force),” adding that in contemporary screenwriting this is now “referred to as the point of attack, the inciting incident or the cat- alyst” (Lanouette, 2012). Similarly, Lanouette notes that Scottish theorist William Archer in his book Play-making “promoted the superiority of a 3-act structure tied to the rhythm of a natural crisis that includes ‘growth, culmination and solution’ ” (Lanouette, 2012). In the end, Lanouette makes clear that there is a certain degree of arbitrariness in the historical divisions of acts in drama and screenplays. She also presents a strong argument that the impetus for formalizing separate acts was primarily tied to the practicalities inherent to changing the physical backdrops and props between the scenes. In theatre, act breaks serve a practical purpose – the sets need to be remade, costumes and characters changed. This is part of the poetics of the form. In film, act breaks are much less explicit. There is more room for interpretation when watching a film because the large units of plot are not so discrete – the viewer must decide for herself where the plot movements take place. Television is an interesting example because the form by necessity requires breaks for commercials.

2.3.2 Narrative Units in Film

In this section, I will look more closely at the types of narrative units that have been proposed for film screenplays. There is some discussion of act structure, and also a few ideas concerning smaller units, such as scenes and beats, as well as ways in which a completed film may be analyzed and subdivided structurally.

Field 1979

Syd Field is well known for his prescriptive yet successful formula for screenplays containing three acts. Field believes that “A screenplay is a whole, and exists in direct relationship to its parts” (Field, 1979/2005, p. 106). His formula is precise, even indicating the number of pages that should comprise each section of the story arc. In describing the basic units that comprise a screenplay, he writes that

34 A screenplay, I soon realized, is a story told with pictures. It’s like a noun; it has a subject, and is usually about a person, or persons, in a place, or places, doing his, or her, or their “thing.” The person is the main character and doing his/her thing is the action. Out of that understanding, I saw that any good screenplay has certain conceptual components common to the screenplay form. (Field, 1979/2005, p. 12)

It is not difficult to argue that most screenplays include one or more persons in a place doing something. The idea of construing these elements as nouns and verbs does suggest the tantalizing possibility of a grammar that may guide a writer in constructing a plot with the right things in the right order. Field impishly goes on to explain that the dramatic structure in which the above elements are expressed “has a definite beginning, middle, and end, though not necessarily in that order” (Field, 1979/2005, p. 12). His adherence to the form is supported by the demands of the studios. He writes that “It’s not uncommon for major film studios and production companies to contractually stipulate that a delivered screenplay must have a definite three-act structure and be no longer than 2 hours and 8 minutes, or 128 pages, in length” (Field, 1979/2005, p. 12). In this case, it is clear that part of understanding the medium is also understanding the constraints and pressures of the industry that produces these works of art.

McKee 1997

Robert McKee, a popular writer on the form of Hollywood screenplays is known for his promotion of the concept of ‘beats’. His definition of the term is that in a drama, the beat is “an exchange of behavior in action/reaction. Beat by beat these changing behaviors shape the turning of a scene.” Later he continues, “If you make the smallest element do its job, the deep purpose of the telling will be served. Let every phrase of dialogue or line of description either turn behavior and action or set up the conditions for change. Make your beats build scenes, scenes build sequences, sequences build acts, acts build story to its climax” (McKee, 1997, p.22). This does bear a resemblance to the way that Freytag also structured the narrative arc in his plays.

Thompson 1999

Kristin Thompson has extensively studied the forms of plot advocated in screenwriting manuals and exemplified in films. She writes that “A plausible structural principle will relate to something about which both filmmakers and audiences intuitively care” (Thompson, 1999, p. 27). In her survey of popular films, she questions the reliance on the three-act structure that is prescribed by the screenplay coaches Syd Field and Robert McKee. Based on her own observations and analysis of films, she argues that a structure of four major sections makes more sense: Setup, Complication, Development and Climax, followed occasionally by Denouement. She recognizes the utility of Field’s structure but argues that three arbitrary

35 segments may not be justified. “In breaking narratives down into segments for analysis, one always confronts a problem: a plot can be divided up into an indefinitely large number of parts. Field stops at three, while someone who spoke to Ernest Lehman found ten acts in North by Northwest. A minute segmentation of a narrative could run to hundreds of parts” (Thompson, 1999, p. 27). This is part of the problem with searching for the constituent elements of plot. There are often multiple narrative threads coexisting in a story, with many cause and effect interrelationships. We deconstruct plots in order to better understand how they function. Thompson’s four-part structure is an integral element of the design of my study and I discuss this work in greater detail in the next chapter

Bordwell and Thompson 2001

In Film Art, Bordwell and Thompson examine the plot and story in the film Citizen Kane. They write that, “In analyzing a film, it is often helpful to begin by segmenting it into sequences. Sequences are often demarcated by cinematic devices (fades, dissolves, cuts, black screen, and so on) and form meaningful units. In a narrative film, the sequences constitute the parts of the plot” (Bordwell & Thompson, 2001, p. 79). For these authors, scenes are the primary buildable units in film. The advantage of this method of analysis is articulated in this way: “Our segmentation lets us see at a glance the major divisions of the plot and how scenes are organized within them. The outline also helps us notice how the plot organizes story causality and story time” (2001, p. 79). The authors note that in their outline, the arabic numerals indicate the major parts of the story, “some of which are only one scene long,” while lower-case letters indicate a number of scenes occurring within a larger unit (2001, p. 79). Below, I have directly transcribed the outline that they have produced. CITIZEN KANE: PLOT SEGMENTATION After the credit title, the following events and locations are listed:

1. Xanadu: Kane dies 2. Projection room:

a. “News on the March” b. Reports discuss “Rosebud”

3. El Rancho nightclub: Thompson tries to interview Susan 4. Thatcher library: (contains first flashback)

a. Thompson enters and reads Thatcher’s manuscript b. Kane’s mother sends the boy off with Thatcher c. Kane grows up and buys the Inquirer d. Kane launches the Inquirer’s attack on big business e. The Depression: Kane sells Thatcher his newspaper chain

36 f. Thompson leaves library

5. Bernstein’s office: (contains second flashback)

a. Thompson visits Bernstein b. Kane takes over the Inquirer c. Montage: the Inquirer’s growth d. Party: the Inquirer celebrates getting the Chronicle staff e. Leland and Bernstein discuss Kane’s trip abroad f. Kane returns with his fiancee Emily g. Bernstein concludes his reminiscence

6. Nursing home: (contains third flashback)

a. Thompson talks with Leland b. Breakfast table montage: Kane’s marriage deteriorates c. Leland continues his recollections d. Kane meets Susan and goes to her room e. Kane’s political campaign culminates in his speech f. Kane confronts Gettys, Emily, and Susan g. Kane loses election and Leland asks to be transferred h. Kane marries Susan i. Susan’s opera premiere j. Because Leland is drunk, Kane finishes Leland’s review k. Leland concludes his reminiscence

7. El Rancho nightclub: (contains fourth flashback)

a. Thompson talks with Susan b. Susan rehearses her singing c. Susan’s opera premiere d. Kane insists that Susan go on singing e. Montage: Susan’s opera career f. Susan attempts suicide and Kane promises she can quit singing g. Xanadu: Susan bored h. Montage: Susan plays with jigsaw puzzles i. Xanadu: Kane proposes a picnic j. Picnic: Kane slaps Susan k. Xanadu: Susan leaves Kane l. Susan concludes her reminiscence

8. Xanadu: (contains fifth flashback)

a. Thompson talks with Raymond

37 b. Kane destroys Susan’s room and picks up paperweight, murmuring “Rosebud” c. Raymond concludes his reminiscence; Thompson talks with the other reporters; all leave d. Survey of Kane’s possessions leads to a revelation of Rosebud; exterior of gate and of castle; the end

End credits It can be seen that Bordwell and Thompson have first divided the film into sections based on the important locations featured in the story. Nearly all of the locations incorporate a flashback triggered by an interview. Because Citizen Kane is a well-known film with meticulous craftsmanship, we can easily see some of the characteristics of its complex and non-linear plot that is presented. By breaking the plot into these scenes, the structure becomes more readily apparent. The utility of this method made a strong impression on me and I have tried to follow their example, as the reader will see in the next chapter on methodology.

2.3.3 Narrative Units in Television

From narrative units in film, I venture towards the units that have been theorized in television dramas. While they have much in common, there are additional time constraints on a TV program, relating to the commercial breaks. These are in some ways similar to the need for breaks between acts in a play on a stage, where the sets and costumes must be changed periodically.

Newcomb 1985

Horace Newcomb, a critical theorist of television drama, writes about the TV show Mag- num PI a melodramatic detective series in the 1980s. Newcomb writes that traditional series tend to have episodes that stand alone. When mini-series became popular, this expanded the possibilities of the form, and producers began to experiment with allowing one episode to have consequences that arrive in a later episode. Newcomb argues that this gives audiences a more realistic and continuous experience. He mentions the shows Hill Street Blues and St. Elsewhere as exemplars of what he calls “open-ended serials.” In contrast, Newcomb cites Magnum as a unique form:

Its creators have established and refined a new television form that stands between the traditional self-contained episodic forms and the open-ended serials. Call it the “cumulative narrative.” One episode’s events can greatly affect later events, but they’re seldom directly tied together. Each week’s program is distinct, yet each is grafted onto the body of the series, its characters’ pasts. (Newcomb, May/June 1985, p. 24)

Newcomb explains that there is pressure for syndication, which drives the need to have episodes as self-contained entities because there is no guarantee that they will be pre-

38 sented in their original order in the syndication schedule. Newcomb notes that “They can be jumbled out of their original sequence and broadcast with little damage” (Newcomb, May/June 1985, p. 24). He adds that “There is a clear production economy in the proce- dure. Although a cumulative narrative requires a producer to pay attention to its internal past, it is not as difficult to write and produce as a weekly serial with a linear plot” because of the need to arrange production schedules (Newcomb, May/June 1985, p. 24). For instance, multiple storylines tend to lead to uncontrolled costs due to ambitious scenes that must be shot. Newcomb argues that a cumulative series benefits from the sense of continuity with a “powerful narrative economy” due to the fact that “The producers, writers, directors, and, most importantly, the characters they create remember events from the fictional past. The pas plays an active, significant role in the plots of the present. Nothing is lost” (Newcomb, May/June 1985, p. 24). By incorporating flashback scenes and expanding on familiar themes in the past of the characters, “Each event reverberates with the har- monics of a hundred others. Tone and texture make the shows work, and liberate them from a repetitive style or motif. Seen in first run or rerun, they are more like a mosaic or a tapestry than a series. Viewing reruns out of sequence actually creates its own pleasures” (Newcomb, May/June 1985, p. 25). This sounds like an interesting model for interactive narratives as well. Taking the idea of an episode to signify a discrete narrative unit, it is clear that there is a continuum of possible variations on continuity between the units. Some are perfectly self-contained, while others have a more tightly formed chain of cause and effect binding them in order. There are also potential combinations of each of these types, getting closer to what Newcomb describes as the ‘cumulative narrative.’

Newman 2006

Michael Newman writes about the application of poetics to the narrative content in Prime Time Serials (PTS) on TV. First, he describes ‘beats’ in the context of television: “Situ- ation comedies, episodics, and serial dramas all organize their stories into rather short segments, often less than two minutes in length. Viewers might call these scenes, but writers call them”beats,” and they are television’s most basic storytelling unit” (Newman, 2006, p. 17). He adds that “Each beat tells us something new, something we want – need – to know, and amplifies our desire to know more. Each one solicits feelings in relation to this information, such as satisfaction, excitement, worry, puzzlement, or frustration on a character’s behalf” (Newman, 2006, p. 18). The beats contribute to the episode, and the episode is a component of the season-long arc. Newman writes about the relationship of these levels: “Looking at the PTS’s narrative form, we may consider it to have three storytelling levels for analysis: a micro level of the scene or ‘beat,’ a middle level of the episode, and a macro level of greater than one episode, such as a multi-episode arc” (Newman, 2006, p. 17). It is

39 very interesting to think about how the micro levels build together to create a larger structure. This happens within a single episode of a series, and likewise this pattern is repeated at a larger scale as the individual episodes help to build an entire season, and the seasons in turn contribute to the lifespan of the entire series. Writing more about the way that episodes are structured, Newman adds that

Each episode of a PTS leaves some causal chains dangling, but seldom at the expense of sacrificing resolution and coherence, seldom in a way that promotes textual instability or radical, modernist aperture. The serials I am considering have not only closure in their story lines, which is also true of soap operas, but a rigorous formal unity on the level of the episode, a quality daytime dramas rarely display. Thus there are two kinds of closure and aperture we can consider: the resolution of narrative cause effect chains, as in the culmination of a courtship in marriage, and the unification of themes and motifs into an orderly, integrated whole. (Newman, 2006, p. 20)

Understanding how resolution and coherence can be maintained in an ongoing series is an idea that offers a useful application to the design of video games as well. Henry Jenkins (2004) has used the soap opera as an example of how redundant information can be distributed throughout the series in order to serve the late arrivals to the plot and keep both the longtime fans and the newcomers engaged. It is interesting to see that there is a continuum of closure that is possible from the more rigorously constructed plot forms of the Prime Time Serial to the looser structure of the ongoing soap.

Mittell 2006

Jason Mittell writes about the formal qualities of complex storytelling in television in the 1990s. Mittell argues that in the 1990s, “A number of key transformations in the media industries, technologies, and audience behaviors coincide with the rise of narrative complexity, not functioning as straightforward causes of this formal evolution but certainly enabling the creative strategies to flourish” (Mittell, 2006). He writes that part of this influence derives from the migration of some filmmakers to the television medium. In addition, the ability to record programs to watch or rewatch them later allows viewers to attempt a closer reading of the plot points in an ongoing series. This trend contributed to the growing complexity of television shows. Mittell points out that the level of engagement involved in appreciating shows such as Lost or Arrested Development contradicts the idea of the passive viewer. He writes,

You cannot simply watch these programs as an unmediated window to a realistic storyworld into which you might escape; rather, narratively complex television demands you pay attention to the window frames, asking you to reflect on how it provides partial access to the diegesis and how the panes of glass distort your vision of the unfolding action.(Mittell, 2006, p. 38)

This relates to the theories of Bolter and Grusin (1999) concerning immediacy and hypermediation. It may also be a key to understanding the complexity of blending the willing

40 suspension of disbelief with the active engagement that are both integral to video game play.

2.3.4 Narrative Units in Folktales

Now my review returns to more ancient origins that have some parallels with the history of theatre. In this section, I will look at narrative units as they have been described in the anthropological literature, featuring Claude Levi-Strauss, Vladimir Propp, and Joseph Camp- bell.

Propp 1928

In the 1920s, the folklorist Vladimir Propp looked at a large number of Russian fairy tales in order to distill common themes and more importantly, apply a structural analysis to their forms. His methods were assimilated and modified later by the structuralists who admired his work, notably Levi-Strauss and Barthes. Propp informs the reader that by morphology, he means to study the forms of fairy tales in a way that is parallel to how scientists study biological forms in nature. Because the material of these folk tales is so diverse, classi- fication is necessary. In Chapter 2, of his Morphology of the Folktale, Propp states, “For the sake of comparison we shall separate the component parts of fairy tales by special methods; and then, we shall make a comparison of tales according to their components. The result will be a morphology (i.e., a description of the tale according to its component parts and the relationship of these components to each other and to the whole)” (Propp, 1928/1968, p. 19). Some of the subcomponents that Propp highlights are Functions, Char- acters, and Moves. In his eyes, a tale generally begins with a villainy or some kind of lack, then continuing through different functions, and often ending with a marriage. This is the large arc, the backbone. Propp writes that a “Function is understood as an act of character, defined from the point of view of its significance for the course of the action” (Propp, 1928/1968, p. 21). He uses the term function to signify a pattern of events and behavior that is repeated in many variations by an interchangeable type of character. The particular characters may change, but the function can be consistent across versions of the tale. For instance, a function might be the giving of a gift to the hero. The donor of the gift might be an old friend or a wise man, but the event pattern is what remains consistent. Functions can be grouped together to create a unit he calls a move, which is a kind of subsidiary arc. Propp writes, “Terminal functions are at times a reward (F), a gain or in general the liquida- tion of misfortune (K), an escape from pursuit (Rs), etc. This type of development is termed by us a move (xod). Each new act of villainy, each new lack creates a new move” (Propp, 1928/1968, p. 92). This idea of the structuring of stories was profoundly influential to the field of narratology, and is a precursor to further investigation into narrative structures and micronarrative.

41 Levi-Strauss 1955

In his 1955 essay in the Journal of American Folklore, Levi-Strauss communicates his early thoughts on what he would later describe as mythemes. He muses upon the nature of myth and wonders about its structure, asserting that “Myth, like the rest of language, is made up of constituent units” and that they are similar to phonemes and morphemes in language, but actually “belong to a higher order” which persuades him to call them “gross constituent units” (Lévi-Strauss, 1955, p. 431). Next, Levi-Strauss describes his process of investigating the units that together form the myths. His application of structural analysis is similar to the process of close reading, by breaking down a larger text and scrutinizing the smaller portions for meaning. He writes:

The technique which has been applied so far by this writer consists in analyzing each myth individually, breaking down its story into the shortest possible sentences, and writing each such sentence on an index card bearing a number corresponding to the unfolding of the story. (Lévi-Strauss, 1955, p. 431)

He is attempting to analyze myths according to this process and reveal the connections between the parts. A drawback that he encountered in this, however, is that the sentences themselves did not capture the perspective about mythological time that is necessary to understanding and contextualizing the stories. Levi-Strauss focused his argument more by noting that “the true constituent units of a myth are not the isolated relations but bundles of such relations and it is only as bundles that these relations can be put to use and combined so as to produce a meaning” (Lévi-Strauss, 1955, p. 431). By bundling the smaller units into larger groups, their relevance to the entire myth can be contextualized. This is just a small snippet of the relevant ideas in Levi-Strauss’ work, but it is important to note that his theories helped to establish a method and approach to examining the structures of stories.

Campbell 1972

Joseph Campbell’s work The Hero With a Thousand Faces (1972) has been very influential in the development of stories for video games. This book is often referenced for its well- known explication of the Hero’s Journey, which has been used for many years as inspiration for movies, television and game narrative development. Campbell made his career special- izing in the exploration of the similarities between the mythology of different cultures. This book in particular focuses on a number of plot stages that heroic myths worldwide tend to share. Campbell has organized these stages into the following structure, which has become tremendously influential in the authorship of film and games:

42 • Departure – where the hero must leave his home to embark on an important journey. The ensuing events are: The Call to Adventure; Refusal of the Call; Supernatural Aid; The Crossing of the First Threshold; The Belly of the Whale. • Initiation – where the hero undergoes a series of lessons and changes. The ensuing events include: The Road of Trials; The Meeting with the Goddess; Woman as the Temptress; Atonement with the Father; Apotheosis; The Ultimate Boon. • Return – where the hero brings his newfound gifts and understanding to the benefit of the home that he has left. The events comprising this stage are: Refusal of the Return; The Magic Flight; Rescue from Without; The Crossing of the Return Threshold; Master of the Two Worlds; Freedom to Live.

Campbell ties these themes with psychological development, citing Freud’s writing on the interpretation of dreams along with the problems of the Oedipal complex, and relying as well on the writings of Carl Jung. Campbell notes that in some cultures these themes are still enacted by young people coming of age or going through other major life events, and the old myths are useful in a psychological sense to ease the passage and integrate an individual’s life into a larger social context. The 2012 game, Journey, by Thatgamecompany explicitly uses Campbell’s model, and is an interesting example in that there is no dialogue in the game, only movement through landscapes, yet the drama of the Hero’s Journey is felt strongly during play.

2.3.5 Narrative Units in Literature

Next I will move from a brief survey of units in myth and folktales to those formalized by the Structuralists in literature. Starting with Gerald Prince’s ideas on story grammars, the survey will progress to narrative units such as narremes, functions, kernels and satellites.

Prince 1973

Gerald Prince writes about the usefulness of developing a grammar of stories in order to better understand how the parts can be combined. He writes that

A grammar of stories is a series of statements or formulas describing these rules or, rather, capable of yielding the same results. A grammar should be explicit. It should indicate, with a minimum of interpretation left to its user, how a story can be produced by utilizing a specific set of rules and assign to such a story a structural description. (Prince, 1973, p. 10)

Prince admits that in reality, being able to account for all possible stories is a grand ideal, but he asserts that the structural description would bring the advantage of being able to recognize the features that may or may not be in common between groups of elements that are not universally recognized as stories (Prince, 1973, p. 10). In short, this may help to

43 settle disagreements by allowing a comparison of observable components. He recognizes the value of doing this analysis here:

A rigorous analysis of any structure presupposes the identification of the discrete units making up that structure, for only when these units have been isolated properly is it possible to describe the way they are distributed and combined in order to yield that structure. If we consider a story to be made up of a certain number of units combined in a certain way, we first have to give an explicit definition of these units meeting certain formal standards and allowing us to determine them as easily and unambiguously as possible. (Prince, 1973, p. 16).

Determining the types of units, their ordering and how they work together is an important part of being able to create new stories that take advantage of these connections. The logical construction that Prince is outlining here has appeal, and this avenue seems enticing for future research relating to Interactive Digital Storytelling and the possibilities that may be explored in procedural plot building. Gerald Prince is interested in the units that make up narrative structures as well.

Bonheim 1975

Some scholars have proposed the term ‘narreme’ for a distinct narrative unit in literature. Recent theorizing on narremes comes from Helmut Bonheim, a literary scholar working in Germany. Writing about the organization of narrative units in Shakespeare’s works, he discusses the concept of the narreme. He cites Eugene Dorfman (1969) as the originator of the term, which is defined as “a basic unit or quality of narration” and continues, noting that Henri Wittmann (1975) expanded on the concept, but the idea of the narreme as a unit was largely ignored after that. Bonheim suggests that the reason for this is that narratologists are more interested in narrative prose than in drama and have not focused as much on developing tools for the more dialogue-focused form. Bonheim explains his position, noting that in drama, the emphasis is on showing rather than telling, where description ordinarily conveyed in prose is communicated instead by the appearance of costumes and stage props in drama. He concedes that on the surface, narremes in drama would presumably be less significant, writing that:

If E. M. Forster was right to suggest that showing is better than telling, and if that applies to fiction, it applies to drama all the more. The narremes of modern prose, in other words, look to be marginal in a genre composed almost exclusively of speech (Bonheim, 2000, pp. 1-2).

The narreme seems to be a seldom-used term in the literature, but may warrant more investigation. For example, as mentioned by Bonheim, Henri Wittman (1975) wrote an explication that put narremes into a framework of computable algorithms. This may be something of interest to scholars working in Interactive Digital Storytelling.

44 Barthes 1975

Roland Barthes is also interested in finding the smallest units in a narrative. Barthes writes, “Since any system can be defined as a combination of units pertaining to certain known classes, the first step is to break down the narrative and determine whatever segments of narrative discourse can be distributed into a limited number of classes; in other words, to define the smallest narrative units” (1975, p. 244). Barthes asserts that there are no wasted units in art, that everything in a narrative must serve a purpose. He writes that it is important to keep in mind “the functional character of the segment under consideration” which supersedes “the forms traditionally attributed to the various parts of narrative discourse (actions, scenes, paragraphs, dialogues, inner monologues, etc.)” (Barthes, 1975, p. 245). To provide an example of the type of units that operate in a text, Barthes discusses the role of Functions in narrative, which are units that have meaning in relation to the plot, as well as Indices, which refer to “a personality trait, a feeling, or an atmosphere” (1975, p. 249). Functions can be further broken down into Cardinal Functions, which “constitute actual hinges of the narrative” (1975, p. 248) and Catalyses, which “ ‘fill in’ the narrative space separating the hinge-type functions” (1975, p. 248). Cardinal functions seem to require a chain of causality, while Catalyses are simply consecutive. Barthes also mentions “micro-sequences” where “the fine grain of the narrative texture is made,” (1975, p. 253) as he describes the way that Propp and Bremond would give names such as Fraud, Struggle, Seduction, etc. to larger functions of a tale. Going further with this idea, Barthes discusses the nested nature of narrative units in a sequence (‘a small number of nuclei’). He uses as an example a passage from Ian Fleming, which illustrates Barthes’ approach to analyzing a novel:

Because it is self-contained with regard to its functions, and bracketed under a name, the sequence can be apprehended as a unit, ready to function as a simple term in another, broader sequence. Take the following micro-sequence: extending one’s hand, shaking hands, releasing the handshake. This Greeting becomes a simple function: looked at in a certain light, it assumes the role of an index (du Pont’s flabbiness and Bond’s shrinking from it). Considered as a whole, however, it constitutes one term along a broader sequence, subsumed under the name of Encounter, whose other terms (drawing near, stopping, hailing, greeting, settling down together) can be micro- sequences on their own. A whole network of subrogations thus binds together the narrative, from the smaller matrices up to larger functions.” (1975, pp. 254-255)

To interpret this in another way, consider that for each function listed, there might be a series of more specific functions nested within it, which then can be divided into yet more specific functions, ultimately producing something like a tree structure. This relates to my research into game narrative in that the hierarchical structure is replicated in a similar fashion at higher levels of the narrative arc as well as lower levels. Many of Barthes’ concepts can be similarly applied to the analysis of plot within a game system.

45 Culler 1975

The challenge of identifying narrative units and summarizing plots is addressed by the literary theorist Jonathan Culler. In the opening of his chapter on “Defining Narrative Units,” he explains that difficulties arise because the same story can be told in many different ways while still retaining its unique identity. Pinning down how readers intuitively understand what parts of a story are essential and which can be omitted from a given summary presents unexpected hurdles. For example, Culler notes that in evaluating the syntax of a paragraph, a scholar trying to articulate how sentences combine into coherent discourse is at least aware of the grammatical units in advance. Furthermore, he observes that “Difficulties are multiplied in the study of plot structure because the analyst must both determine what shall count as the elementary units of narrative and investigate the ways in which they combine” (Culler, 1975, p. 123). Culler acknowledges that in general, people can summarize plots and recognize borderline cases reasonably well to make themselves understood and that “The fact that we can engage in discussion and verify statements about plots provides a strong presumption that plot structure is in principle analysable” (Culler, 1975, p. 124). It is interesting to note the flexibility with which we as humans can discuss plot and still be able to get across the most essential elements. Culler writes that

One elementary fact about our literary competence is that when called upon to summarize a plot we can do so in a single sentence or in a long and detailed paragraph. There is, in other words, a hierarchy of appropriate plot summaries, running from the most succinct to the most detailed, and there would be substantial agreement among readers about what ought to be included at a particular level of generality. (Culler, 1975, p. 128)

The problem in evaluating generalized theories about how plots should be decomposed into units and what thought processes are used in order to make these distinctions is an ongoing challenge, according to Culler. He writes that when working to develop a theory, a scholar must be mindful to also explain the “hierarchical structuring process by which we move from the text itself to plot summaries” (Culler, 1975, 1975, p. 141). He asserts that this would be “an integral part of a poetics of the novel, whose task would be to explain how, in organizing the sentences which we encounter, we make sense of a text” (Culler, 1975, 1975, p. 142). There seems to be a process of abstraction that we do naturally as readers, and by capturing the logic of that process, a theorist would make great advances in guiding scholarship in determining narrative units in literature.

Chatman 1980

In his influential book, Story and Discourse, Seymour Chatman adapts the terms ‘kernels’ and ‘satellites’ from Barthes to indicate major and minor events in a narrative structure. He writes that “Narrative events have not only a logic of connection, but a logic of hierarchy,”

46 noting that classical narrative only consider major events as “part of the chain or armature of contingency” (Chatman, 1980, p. 53). Chatman explains that

Kernels are narrative moments that give rise to cruxes in the direction taken by events. They are nodes or hinges in the structure, branching points which force a movement into one of two (or more) possible paths. Achilles can give up his girl or refuse; Huck Finn can remain at home or set off down the river; Lambert Strether can advise Chad to remain in Paris or to return; Miss Emily can pay the taxes or send the collector packing; and so on. (Chatman, 1980, p. 53).

In his example, Chatman shows that one way of recognizing a kernel is to notice when there is a crux or dilemma that presents diverging paths. This may be interesting also from the point of view of examining an interactive narrative that quite literally presents branching paths for the story to proceed along. To clarify the role of kernels, Chatman asserts that “Kernels cannot be deleted without destroying the narrative logic. In the classical narrative text, proper interpretation of events at any given point is a function of the ability to follow these ongoing selections, to see later kernels as consequences of earlier” (Chatman, 1980, p. 53). Indeed, in order to promote narrative coherence, the more that a relationship of choices and consequences can be created, chaining together cause and effect, the more engaging and satisfying a story may become.

Miller 1995

In his chapter on narrative in Critical Terms for Literary Study, J. Hillis Miller addresses the psychological aspects of storytelling and makes strong statements about fiction’s role in everyday life as a means of investigating meaning through mimesis. Calling Aristotle’s Poetics ‘structuralist,’ Miller argues that the recounting of a story follows rules in much the way a sentence requires grammar and so “This means that the secrets of storytelling are ascertainable by empirical or scientific observation. This makes narrative theory part of ‘the human sciences’ ” (Miller, 1995, p. 71). Below I paraphrase his description of the basic elements present in any narrative, roughly as follows: 1. A situation that changes a. initial situation b. sequence leading to change/reversal of situation c. revelation made possible by reversal 2. Use of personification to create characters out of signs a. includes a protagonist, antagonist, and a ‘witness who learns’ 3. Patterning and repetition of key elements and tropes a. narrative rhythm modulating that trope It is clear that Miller places narrative within a definition of a dynamic sequence. He writes, “Any narrative, then, to be a narrative, I claim, must have some version of these elements: beginning, sequence, reversal; personification, or more accurately and technically stated, prosopopoeia, bringing protagonist, antagonist, and witness ‘to life’; some patterning or repetition of elements surrounding a nuclear figure or complex word” (1995, p. 75). Miller then applies this framework in the analysis of Wordsworth’s poem “A Slumber Did My Spirit Seal,” noting that the poem, despite containing only 8 lines of text, fully embodies these components, with the twist that

47 the narrator in this case is the ‘witness who learns’. Miller’s “patterning and repetition of key elements and tropes” is important to the way that I will approach the investigation of narrative in games. Games use repetition and replay as mechanics. Repetition can lead to mastery.

2.4 Interactive Narrative Structure: Graphs and Rhizomes

In this section the survey continues, now investigating theories encompassing works of interactive narrative.

2.4.1 Narrative Units in Interactive Media

In this subsection, the focus is on how narrative units operate in interactive media. Pro- gressing loosely in chronological order, I will look specifically at writings that explain the roles of elements such as textons, beats and other modular components of storytelling in this diverse field.

Laurel 1993

Returning to the influence of Aristotle upon literary interaction, the work of Brenda Lau- rel has had a profound influence on the world of interactive arts and games. Laurel uses Aristotelian poetics to design a framework of dramatic theory that can be applied to a wide spectrum of human-computer interactions. She explains the importance of poetics in general:

Understanding how things work is necessary if one is to know how to make them. When a made thing is flawed or unsuccessful, it may not be due to poor craftsmanship. People have designed and built beautiful buildings that wouldn’t stand up, people have written plays with mellifluous words and solid dramatic structure that closed after one night in New Jersey, and people have designed software with lovely screens and loads of “functionality” that leave people pounding on their keyboards in frustration. The reason for failure is often a lack of understanding about how the thing works, what its nature is, and what it will try to be and do—whether you want it to or not—because of its intrinsic form (Laurel, 1993, p. 41).

It can be seen that poetics is still an important consideration in contemporary interface design. Understanding how something is made is crucial for a designer to produce work that is both functional and robust in everyday use. Laurel’s book is intended for an HCI audience. She is interested in presenting metaphors as a useful way of understanding how to design interactive software – in particular, using theatre as a metaphor for interface. She devotes the first four chapters of the book to explaining the historic basis of dramatic form, with an eye toward how these ideas can apply to design work today. In these chapters, Laurel summarizes the key differences between drama and narrative, which she lists as

48 Enactment (acting out rather than reading); Intensification (events are arranged to intensify emotion and condense time); and Unity of action vs. episodic structure (drama is tightly constructed, while narrative is looser and episodic). Laurel writes,

Dramas typically represent a strong central action with separate incidents that are causally linked to that action, something the neoclassicists called the unity of action. Narrative tends to be more episodic; that is, incidents are more likely to be quasi- independent and connected thematically rather than causally to the whole. Drama is typically more intense, tightly constructed, economical, and cathartic than narrative. (1993, p. 95)

Her characterization of these differences are not necessarily the view that guides my own investigation into plot. The generalization about narrative being more episodic than drama tends to overlook the way that television series create complex arcs with many subcomponents. However, this book finds commonalities between the form of drama and the way that software can be designed to take advantage of these forms that we have been using since Aristotle. Laurel adapts Aristotle’s 6 qualitative elements of structure in drama to how they can be used in human-computer interaction. These elements are: Action, Charac- ter, Thought, Language, Melody (pattern) and Spectacle. It is interesting to see how these concepts can be used to improve a user’s understanding and enjoyment of an interface. It is worthwhile to look to the forms of the past to see what can be adapted for contemporary narrative construction.

Aarseth 1997

Espen Aarseth writes about the fundamental importance of textons and scriptons in his highly influential work on ergodic literature. He defines a text as “any object with the primary function to relay verbal information” specifying also that “a text is not equal to the information it transmits” (Espen Aarseth, 1997, p. 62). Aarseth clarifies that what he means by information is “a string of signs, which may (but does not have to) make sense to a given observer”. Strings, Aarseth writes, can be of two natures: strings as they appear to readers are “scriptons,” while the strings as they exist in the text are referred to as “textons”. He uses as an example a work from the Oulipo to illustrate the difference:

In a book such as Raymond Queneau’s sonnet machine Cent mille milliards de poèmes (Queneau 1961), where the user folds lines in the book to “compose” sonnets, there are only 140 textons, but these combine into 100,000,000,000,000 possible scriptons. In addition to textons and scriptons, a text consists of what I call a traversal function – the mechanism by which scriptons are revealed or generated from textons and presented to the user of the text. (Espen Aarseth, 1997, p. 62)

This appears to bear some similarity to the established idea of story and discourse in narrative. The discourse, or plot, is what is visually presented in a novel or film – it is like the experience of the medium as it is consumed over a span of time. This is distinct from the

49 story, which has more to do with the act of interpretation on the part of the reader, resulting in a mental model of the “true” chronology of events. Aarseth explains that “scriptons are what an ‘ideal reader’ reads by strictly following the linear structure of the textual output” (Espen Aarseth, 1997, p. 62). To me this positions scriptons as the result of an act of interpretation – in the case of a computer algorithm, the scriptons are the output on screen, while the textons may be part of the database of underlying material which is transformed into the end product.

Manovich 1999

In his book, The Language of New Media, Lev Manovich writes about the concept of modules as an integral aspect of new media. The modules are both independent and also structured into a fractal-like hierarchy in scale:

This principle can be called the “fractal structure of new media.” Just as a fractal has the same structure on different scales, a new media object has the same modular structure throughout. Media elements, be they images, sounds, shapes, or behaviors, are represented as collections of discrete samples (pixels, polygons, voxels, characters, scripts). These elements are assembled into larger-scale objects but continue to maintain their separate identities. The objects themselves can be combined into even larger objects—again, without losing their independence. (Manovich, 2001, p. 30).

This reminds me of Aarseth’s description of textons and scriptons as well. With even a small number of initial elements in a database, these can be recombined in many ways, making small groups that are then combined into larger groups. To visualize this more concretely, Manovich explains:

For example, a multimedia “movie” authored in popular Macromedia Director software may consist of hundreds of still images, QuickTime movies, and sounds that are stored separately and loaded at run time. Because all elements are stored independently, they can be modified at any time without having to change the Director “movie” itself. These “movies” can be assembled into a larger “movie,” and so on. (Manovich, 2001, p. 30).

Manovich adds that “In short, a new media object consists of independent parts, each of which consists of smaller independent parts, and so on, down to the level of the smallest ‘atoms’—pixels, 3-D points, or text characters” (Manovich, 2001, p. 31). For my own research, the important idea here can be applied to games as new media and the structure of the hierarchy of narrative units. The relationship of the smaller units to the larger ones form a pattern and this seems to hold true in many game narratives.

Mateas & Stern 2005

Michael Mateas and Andrew Stern use McKee’s concept of beats in drama and map them into a structure for their interactive narrative, Façade. In explaining the ideas behind their

50 work, Mateas and Stern write that stories can vary in their event structures, with “tightly- plotted causal chains of events” on one hand and more sparse event structures which portray the “subtle progression of emotion between two people” (Mateas & Stern, 2005, p. 93). In Façade, their goal was to adopt the form of theatrical drama, recognizing the tension between game and story and moving away from branching narrative to create sparse but coherent plots featuring emotionally expressive characters. Accordingly, Mateas and Stern use beats to build narrative structures:

Façade’s primary narrative sequencing occurs within a beat, inspired by the smallest unit of dramatic action in the theory of dramatic writing (McKee, 1997); however Façade beats ended up being larger structures than the canonical beats of dramatic writing. A Façade beat is comprised of anywhere from 10 to 100 joint dialog behaviors (jdbs), written in ABL. Each beat is in turn a narrative sequencer, responsible for sequencing a subset of its jdb’s in response to player interaction. Only one beat is active at any time.” (Mateas & Stern, 2005, p. 95)

In some ways, the beat that they describe is similar to Functions in Propp’s writing, in that they represent a composite of small behaviors illustrating a larger motive. These beats are sequenced by the drama manager through various direct and indirect mechanisms. Ulti- mately, there are 27 beats that exist in Façade, with names like: PlayerArrives, GraceGreet- sPlayer, TripStormsToKitchen, RevelationsBuildup, EndingBothSelfAware. The game provides agency as described here: “When the player’s actions cause immediate, context- specific, meaningful reactions from the system, we call this local agency” (Mateas & Stern, 2005, p. 97). The degree of local agency can vary, depending on the needs of the authors to move the narrative in a preferred direction, and also because of the limitations of content available. There is also a higher level that the player can achieve:

The player has global agency when the global shape of the experience is determined by player action. In Facade this would mean that the final ending of the story, and the particulars of the narrative arc that lead to that ending, are determined in a smooth and continuous fashion by what the player does, and that at the end of the experience the player can understand how her actions led to this storyline. (Mateas & Stern, 2005, p. 97)

Mateas and Stern acknowledge that in the existing version of the game local agency was supported at the expense of global agency. The generation of dialog took place at the level of sequences, not of sentences, so a lot of hand-authoring of content was required, and versions of spoken dialog were made with varying degrees of emotional inflection. Mateas and Stern write that “In our estimation, a success of Façade is the integration of the beat goal/mix-in global mix-in and drama manager narrative sequencers, with an expressive natural language interface, context-specific natural language processing, and expressive real-time rendered character animation” (Mateas & Stern, 2005, p. 98). Their work represents a successful integration with theories of narrative construction that have been implemented in a participatory computer-mediated story.

51 Hargood 2008

Charles Hargood’s research group studies natoms in the context of constructing generative stories with images and text. This brief conference paper proposes a model using themes to improve the richness of generated narratives. The work is based on Tomashevsky’s structuralist writings on thematics, which describe the relationships of Features, Motifs and Themes as components of storytelling. Hargood suggests the use of small segments of narrative, which he defines, “We use the term Narrative-Atoms or Natoms to describe these segments; small atomic pieces of narrative that cannot be further broken down, for example a single photo or paragraph” (C. Hargood, 2008, p. 1). In the context of the project he is describing, Hargood uses the term Features for “the visible computable elements” of the rich information in a Natom. There can be many Features in a natom, and not all of them may necessarily contribute to the theme in a story. He adds, “Features can each denote a motif, a basic thematic object that has connotations within the story, for example the feature cake denotes the motif of food” (C. Hargood, 2008, p. 1). The model Hargood describes is meant to be used alongside a narrative generation system and doesn’t contain rules for structure per se. Hargood maintains, “However it can be used to select natoms to be used within a discourse. As such we could use themes constructed from this model to influence the story selection in grammar or emergent narratives to give them a thematic subtext” (C. Hargood, 2008, p. 1). The concept of Natoms can be very useful in the structuring of an interactive narrative.

Hargood 2012

This paper by Hargood, Jewell and Millard references the Narrative Paradox originating with Aylett and Louchart in 1999, which claims that interaction and narrative cohesion are ultimately in tension against one another. Hargood, Jewell and Millard believe that this tension can be overcome with the design of a system that uses the metaphor of a braid to unify narrative threads from a collection of documentary film clips in order to generate a coherent story that is customized based on user input. What makes this paper useful is its adoption of Tomashevsky’s structuralist ideas on theme. Hargood writes,

Tomashevsky’s structuralist view was that themes within narrative could be decon- structed into themes (broad ideas such as ‘politics’ or ‘drama’) and motifs (more atomic elements directly related to the narrative such as ‘the helpful beast’ or ‘the thespian’). A motif is the smallest atomic thematic element and refers to an individual element within the narrative which connotes in some way the theme. (Charlie Hargood, Jewell, & Millard, 2012, p. 2)

In addition, Hargood et al. suggest that narrative cohesion depends on five key variables: logical sense, theme, genre, narrator, and style. Other systems are discussed based on their reliance on either character-centric or author-centric models of creation. Some no-

52 table systems include GRIOT for poetry, and ACONF, a linked author/character model. Some hybrids use a ‘director agent’ which vets the actions of character agents to produce a coherent story. The conceptual model for Hargood’s project is based on natoms and nolecules at the narrative level and fine granularity; and the thread and braid at the discourse level. Hargood et al. write that

A natom, or Narrative Atom, describes a segment of narrative from which a story is composed. These are the finest granularity of media available to a given system, so could be a paragraph of text, a scene from a film, or a photograph. These natoms may be rich with features, both machine-discoverable or authored, that may suggest motifs. In turn, these motifs can connote broader themes. (Charlie Hargood et al., 2012, p. 3)

He later defines nolecule as a “directed (potentially cyclic) graph of natoms that are causally connected” (Charlie Hargood et al., 2012, p. 3). This means that a narrative may consist of groups of such nolecules which represent their own subplots. Hargood’s project would be a system that arranges plot threads together based on theme, building connections, and then switching to a user-controlled mode where scenes that are most interesting to the viewer could be ‘up-voted,’ thereby altering subsequent scenes. Hargood’s work is interesting in its discussion of the atomic elements of narrative and its survey of other relevant works of interactive narrative which bear investigation. He seems to be the originator of the terms ‘natom’ and ‘nolecule,’ somewhat similar to the elusive concept of micronarrative.

Ensslin 2014

Astrid Ensslin presents a model of a digital humanities approach to analyzing literary games. In doing so, she proposes a set of tools for analysis that she calls functional ludostylistics, which is meant to build on Ryan’s (2006) “functional ludo-narrativism”. Ensslin wishes to broaden Ryan’s categories in order to encompass more verbal art and digital literature. En- sslin’s framework draws upon ludology, ludonarratology, ludosemiotics and mediality. More specifically, in assessing the ludonarratology category, Ensslin considers elements of in- game narrative such as storyworld and characters, game-story coherence and external narrativity such as walkthroughs when assigning positions to works within her readerly- gamerly axis. In describing her own research, Ensslin writes that “My own analytical approach, which I’ve defined as functional ludostylistics, builds on Ryan’s catalog while also widening the potential range of primary texts from purely narrative games to games (narrative, abstract, and poetic) that integrate verbal art and digital literature (of any genre) that features ludic structures” (Ensslin, 2014, p. 52). Ensslin writes about readerly play with a range of ergodic digital texts, noting their hybrid nature as both literary and ludic. Her framework helps to tease out the distinctions between reading and playing experiences in games that privilege textual expression and can be applied to great effect in exploring works of electronic literature.

53 This supports but differs slightly from the goal of my own study which focuses specifically on the manifested narrative arcs in commercial mainstream video game titles.While Ensslin is exploring the stylistic qualities of textual expression in her study along with ludic mechanics, my study is concerned specifically with identifying the patterns of story sequences in video games and the relationships of their component units in this medium. The games that I will be examining do include some textual material, but the primary driver of their narratives are the actions performed by players and represented by the interactions of the avatars in those storyworlds.

Ryan 2015

In Narrative as Virtual Reality 2, Marie-Laure Ryan writes about 9 interactive structures that serve as architectures for narrative construction in new media artifacts. These are: The Vector, The Complete Graph, The Network, The Tree, The Database, The Maze, The Flowchart, The Hidden Story, and The Braided Plot. (Ryan, 2015, pp. 165-176). Each of these configurations facilitates a path for the interactor to take through a nodal story structure. These structures are familiar to creators of hypertexts and many genres of games.

2.4.2 Narrative Units in Games

Finally, in this section, I will briefly survey some approaches to the concept of narrative units in games, featuring Ian Bogost’s “unit operations” and the utility of modules promoted by Lee Sheldon, a writer and game designer.

Bogost 2006

Bogost writes in the Introduction that his goal is to take a comparative approach to expressive artifacts such as literature and cinema using literary and technology theory. He adds that “In particular, I will suggest that any medium – poetic, literary, cinematic, computational – can be read as a configurative system, an arrangement of discrete, interlocking units of expressive meaning. I call these general instances of procedural expression unit operations” (Bogost, 2006, p. ix). In the first chapter, Bogost defines unit operations and contrasts the concept with examples of system operations in literary, physics and biological fields. The chapter relies heavily on Heidegger’s ideas of purposefulness of objects. He writes that “Unit analysis is the name I suggest for the general practice of criticism through the discovery and exposition of unit operations at work in one or many source texts” (Bo- gost, 2006, p. 15). The second chapter looks at Barthes and structuralism, applying those concepts to computational media. Then he compares humanistic and object-oriented points of view to describe the context of the work he is attempting.

54 Sheldon 2004

Lee Sheldon, a TV writer, game designer and educator, takes Crawford’s graphs and attempts to move beyond the simple bifurcating path as the only model of player choice. Sheldon’s take is more sophisticated, and he promotes the idea of modular narrative as a uniquely flexible solution for the accommodation of player agency and planned storylines. In his 2004 book about storytelling for games, Sheldon writes, Sheldon explains that modular storytelling is superior to the branching-tree style of narrative construction:

In modular storytelling, the modules are objects that include both data (story) and functions or tasks performed on the story, like the passing of tokens, setting of flags, and tracking of player actions. The idea is to bring the telling of story in games into line with how gameplay is constructed. Both can be programmed as modules. Story can be written as modules. (Sheldon, 2004, p. 275)

This is important to consider. In Sheldon’s view, by conceptualizing game stories in terms of modules, a designer is free to leave behind the constraints of branching nodal paths in order to provide greater agency on the part of the player. He adds that modular storytelling has a long tradition in historic literature and that it “combines two key concepts: episodic storytelling and non-linear storytelling” uniting games with a kind of television-style plots. The advantage of this is that “It gives us a basis for creating games where story and gameplay are never at odds with one another but complement one another” (Sheldon, 2004, p. 275). One of the models that Sheldon adopts for modular storytelling is inspired by daytime TV:

Soap stories can last for months, just like our games. Also, one of the points of taking the steps of a story and making them interchangeable modules is to give the player freedom of choice and movement, yet still guarantee her that the story will not only make sense but remain compelling. Soaps give us models like coffee-table scenes, crossover sets, and simple stories woven together to make them seem more complex, yet at the same time comprehensible. (Sheldon, 2004, p. 293)

This is similar to Henry Jenkins’ (2004) view of soaps which model a certain level of redundancy in communicating plot points for viewers who have missed episodes. In each case, greater agency for the player is supported by allowing for missed information to be provided in alternate ways so that missing a segment is not catastrophic for the flow. Shel- don talks about ‘synergy’ as a strength of modular storytelling in games. By synergy, Shel- don means to say that by aggregating modular story parts together, the combination results in evoking a stronger emotion in the viewer. He writes that episodic storytelling is something that viewers are accustomed to in prime time TV shows, and that in video games such as those in the role-playing genre, similar structures can be found:

55 It is also very similar to the over-arcing stories we write for our games. What are the individual quests if not separate stories linked thematically to the overall story in an RPG? The briefings and other story beats between levels and missions in our action games, however elaborately they are produced, are just as insubstantial. They are made more so by their disconnection from the gameplay. It is, in fact, how this connective tissue is viewed by game writers that often forces the game stories to be linear, not the stories forcing the gameplay to be linear. (Sheldon, 2004, p. 281).

Sheldon seems to be saying that by combining beats with episodic stories to create a larger arc, can help to build a structure that is more satisfying than a disconnected al- ternation between cutscenes and gameplay. A way to harmonize the two is called for so that game mechanics and enacted story blend seamlessly into a meaningful experience. Modular storytelling may be the key.

2.5 Summary of Narrative Units

Over the course of this chapter, I have introduced the key terminology and conceptual framework that is guiding my study on narrative units in games. Ideas about how narrative and drama relate to plot through diegesis and mimesis were explored, along with narrative knowledge and immersion. The challenges of combining interaction and storytelling were introduced through concepts highlighted from the work of Bizzocchi, Murray, Jenkins and Salen and Zimmerman. To provide a foundation for what is currently known about narrative units, in the latter portion of this chapter I have explored their appearance in linear media starting with a brief look at act structure in theatre, along with film and television. Scholarship on the structure of narrative arcs in these forms comes from Aristotle, Freytag, Field, McKee, Bordwell and Thompson. A more anthropological angle on folktales includes some ideas about narrative units from Propp, Levi-Strauss and Campbell while in literature Prince, Barthes and Chatman make a case for groupings of units. In interactive media, important structures are proposed by Laurel, Aarseth, Manovich, Mateas & Stern, Hargood, Ensslin and Ryan and in the specifics of games by Bogost and Sheldon. In the next chapter, I will explore the concepts related to ways that a researcher can tease out the narrative structures in traditional and in digital media. In particular, I will explicate the methodology I used to identify discrete narrative modules, and to examine their form and functionality.

56 3 | Research Design and Methods

In the first two chapters of this thesis, I have laid the groundwork for my study by painting in broad strokes the relation of narratology to the field of game studies. In Chapter 1, I illustrated the need for more research on the ways that narrative structures are manifested in games. In Chapter 2, I have explored some of the most relevant themes and constructs found in the literature regarding the ways in which plot is divided into segments in different media. In this chapter I will bring focus to the approach taken to frame this particular study. The methodological foundations of my research depend on techniques formulated in narratology and refined in the application of aesthetic analysis to games. I will discuss some of these different techniques of analysis and show how they relate to my choice of methods. By establishing that games can be treated as texts for evaluation, the method of this investigation will be the use of close reading. The end product of close reading is an interpretation – hermeneutics. And the goal of this interpretation is to reveal the poetics of the form. With this in mind, I have structured the chapter to illustrate this logic. Starting with formal and textual analysis, I will trace a path through close reading and hermeneutics that culminates in poetics. In this way, formal analysis comes full circle – In the first part of the process, I will show the utility of looking at games as texts to ascertain their formal qualities. This is accomplished using close reading to as a method to deconstruct their components. The second part of the process involves using hermeneutics to develop an interpretation that explains the poetics of the form, thus returning to formal qualities. Following this, I will explain the details of the research design for my study, outlining the specific data collection and analysis procedures.

3.1 Methodological Approach

In the book An Introduction to Game Studies, Frans Mäyra describes some of the important aspects to consider when beginning a research study in video games. He is speaking directly to an academic audience of graduate students starting research in this field, and his intention is to give an overview of the possible routes. He suggests three phases for the work, with the first portion devoted to what he calls pre-study: “playing games, searching of

57 literature, reading, making notes and outlining the work” while the second phase involves “gathering and analysing data” and finally “writing and proofreading the actual research paper” (Mäyrä, 2008, p. 154). In addition, the concept of scope is very important and should be reasonably limited. Because game studies is an interdisciplinary field, he notes that it is important to be explicit about the kind of knowledge the researcher is looking for and why. The language required will vary, and will carry with it ontological and epistemological consequences that the student should keep in mind. In his essay, Mäyra suggests a toolbox of methods for the study of games. In this schema, a researcher may use just one method, or a combination of humanities, social science or design research methods. In any case, game playing itself is an important part of the methodology. Mäyra observes that there are currently three general types of research in the field: the first is interested in games and their structures, using humanities methods, the second looks at game players and their behavior, using social science methods, and the third involves researching game design and development, using computer science or design methodologies (2008). Within the humanities group, textual analysis is often used. Mäyra writes that “Literary and media studies have contributed to this assemblage of humanistic game studies methodologies its own conceptual tools, ranging from discussions of character, narration, dramatic arc or theme, to point of view, cutscenes and camerawork familiar from film studies,” (2008, p. 157). This can be differentiated, he writes, from a cultural studies approach which focuses on a more ideological critique along Marxist or feminist lines. In the social science section, Mäyra details qualitative and quantitative approaches to analyze user behavior. In the Design research methods section, Mäyra notes that because games are also software products, design-based research can open up “alternative directions for game design” or provide “important feedback from users to the developers during the game production” and can incorporate processes of “meta-design” with the underlying logic of particular game design methods (2008, p. 162). This branch of research is newer, and seeks to integrate an academic perspective on design with the practical context of games within our culture. Later, Mäyra also writes about Game Playing as a Method, where “analytical appreciation involves being able to communicate and critically examine one’s experiences with the subject of study,” (2008, p. 165). An important distinction to make is to separate structural gameplay analysis (responding to core gameplay) from the thematic analysis of games. In addition, there may be social analysis involved in looking at online multiplayer games. Afterwards, Mäyra acknowledges the challenges involved in writing for a game studies audience, who represent a diverse mix of backgrounds. Writing in this way means not making assumptions about the reader’s familiarity with a particular ontology, for example. (Mäyrä, 2008). In summary, one could say that quantitative approaches might be useful for comparison of attributes over a range of similar games, while qualitative studies may illustrate player perceptions which might then be generalized.

58 Given the diversity of methods available for designing a study, how does a researcher make an informed choice? In the case of my study, I am interested in the narrative structures that can be found in commercial video games. I want to better understand what components are involved in these narrative structures and how they work. This involves observing the characters and story in the game, which qualify to a certain extent as the content communicated by the game. But these elements are also part of the game mechanics and structure. This means that I am looking for the ‘what’ and the ‘how’ that can be read through the playing of the games as artifacts. My study does not concern the specifics of user behavior, the social aspects of game play, or the influence of the story content on events occurring in the world we live in. Thus, this study is rooted in formalist methods, and is concerned with the poetics of the designed story structures themselves. The goal is to expose the mechanisms related to plot construction and build theories for critique, discussion and potentially improved or adjusted production of games. In qualitative research in the social sciences, thick description has its roots in anthropology and the observation of human behavior. It is also associated with phenomenology and postmodern approaches to meaning-making. In these social-science paradigms, it is of utmost importance for the researcher to situate herself in relation to the human experience under investigation and to be cognizant about biases that come from her own unique position. By acknowledging this position and writing with reflection upon it, an ethnographic researcher brings context to her observations, which provide some transparency for other researchers. However, the tradition of inquiry that most guides my own research has its origins deeper in history. Poetics and hermeneutics have been a critical part of Western civilization from the earliest days of committing stories to tangible form in song, performance and prose. The objects of my investigation are works of fiction, created by teams of writers, artists and programmers. The aim of my research is not to catalog my own reactions to the content of these artifacts, but instead to better understand their construction. My observations are empirical in the sense that another researcher can reliably reproduce and observe the same sequence of events on the screen that I discuss. Likewise, the characteristics of the interactive artifacts themselves are the focus of my study, not the underlying production processes that put that game on the shelf. While there is certainly much to be gained from published accounts of the practices and intentions of game design teams, my research here will be limited to what the artifacts themselves reveal. The proponents of close reading in the early 1940s urged practitioners to set aside the yearning to define works of literature by searching for the motives of the authors and their biographical details. Likewise, the research that I am doing for this thesis is focused on what can be seen during interaction with these works of art. This is consistent with the way that formal analysis has been conducted in the past.

59 For the study that I am doing, humanities methods will be the focus, with games treated as texts. What follows is an overview of scholarship that has approached the study of games in a similar way to my intended research design. I will start with formal and textual analysis, briefly discuss close reading and hermeneutics, finally arriving at poetics before introducing the particulars of my own research design.

3.1.1 Formal Analysis: Games as Texts

In this section, I present perspectives from a number of scholars who use a formalist approach when evaluating art. I will start with a general approach by the art critic Edmund Burke Feldman and continue with more specific perspectives on applying formalist analysis to games. Edmund Burke Feldman is an influential art educator. In his book, Becoming Human Through Art, Feldman continues the tradition of Clive Bell and promotes the use of formalism in the appreciation of art. In chapter 12 of the book, he describes his method in detail. The process includes 4 stages: Description, Analysis, Interpretation and Judgment. To me, this process seems very much like doing a close reading of a work of art. Feldman writes, “We have to give ourselves time to see as much as can be seen in a work and then we can decide what it means and is worth. You get this time by describing what you see, that is, by listing what the art object seems to be made of. Making a list, or an inventory, does two things: It slows you down, and it forces you to notice things you might have overlooked” (Feldman, 1970, p. 349). Much like in close reading, it is important to first observe and notice all the elements that are present. Then reviewing the material again can present new insights. Feldman goes on to say that “In the first stage of art criticism we named the things we saw. We tried to make a complete list of the objects and forms everyone would agree are visible in a work of art. Now we must go one step further and try to describe the relationships among the things we see. This whole process is formal analysis” (Feldman, 1970, p. 357). He emphasizes that collecting these descriptive details helps to form a “consensus” about “which features of the art object constitute the subject of interpretation and judgment” (Feld- man, 1970, p. 359). After the observations and the analysis have been completed, the interpretation begins. Feldman writes, “A critical interpretation is a statement about a work of art that enables the visual observations we have made to fit together and make sense…An interpretation might also be regarded as an explanation of a work of art” (Feldman, 1970, p. 362). I believe these techniques are highly relevant to the study that I propose to do.

Lankoski and Bjork 2015

On the subject of formal analysis, game scholars Lankoski and Bjork provide an extensive look at the ways this approach can be applied to games. They write that “Formal analysis is

60 the name for research where an artifact and its specific elements are examined closely, and the relations of the elements are described in detail” (Lankoski & Björk, 2015, p. 23). They note that the method has historically been applied to archaeology, art, literature and film. An advantage that they point out is that formal analysis can be done on an individual artifact without necessarily comparing it with other artifacts or incorporating cultural context into the reading. Lankoski and Bjork add that “Formal analysis can be seen as a fundamental or underlying method in that it provides an understanding of the game system that can in a later step be used for further analysis (cf. Munsterberg, 2009). The results of formal analysis can also be contrasted or tested against other sources, for example, information from players, designers, and reviewers” (Lankoski & Björk, 2015, p. 23). So in some cases, formal analysis may be the first step in a longer process of investigating a game. In order to do the formal analysis, the game must be played. Lankoski and Bjork perceive that a game is indeed an object of analysis, but it also requires active participation:

Performing a formal analysis of gameplay can be done both with the perspective that games are artifacts and that they are activities; in most cases, it blurs the distinction because both the components of a system and how these components interact with each other often need to be considered. In practice, formal analysis of games depends on playing a game and forming an understanding how the game system works. (Lankoski & Björk, 2015, p. 23)

To fulfill this requirement, researchers may play the game themselves or may observe others playing the game, which are both valid in their view. They also concede that in order to best explore ‘subparts’ of a game, the gameplay can benefit from assistance from others: “Indeed, using cheat codes, hacks, and so on may be motivated because they can allow more efficient exploration or provide more transparency to the game system” (Lankoski & Björk, 2015, pp. 23-24). This can be especially helpful for a researcher who is studying a game that requires fast reflexes or a level of virtuosity in manipulating the controls that is only attained through months of practice. Formal analysis has been a technique used in visual arts for many decades. Lankoski and Bjork adapt the concept for use in game analysis in the following way: “Formal analysis focuses on describing the formal features of every work. These vary between fields: in visual art form, it consists of lines and colors; in poetry form includes rhythm; and in game form, it is the systemic features of the game such as game elements, rules, and goals” (Lankoski & Björk, 2015, p. 24). They also cite the 1915 theory of visual art proposed by the art critic Clive Bell, who says that the “lines and colours combined in a particular way, certain forms and relations of forms, stir our aesthetic emotions” and that these combinations produce “significant form” in a work of art (qtd. in Lankoski & Björk, 2015, p. 24). They add that “Regardless of field, formal analysis focuses on the different elements of a work, that is, asking questions about the elements that constitute the parts of the work and the role of each element in the composition as a whole” (Lankoski & Björk, 2015, p. 24). They also

61 cite the methods of Frazer (2009) and Campbell (2008) in their studies of myth and religion along with Propp’s (1968) research on folktales and Bordwell’s (1985) (Narration in the Fiction Film) study of formal elements in film as examples of formalism and structuralism in film and narrative theory. To get more specific about the procedures needed to accomplish this type of analysis, they provide some advice, “To provide formal analysis, one needs to play a game carefully and repeatedly to distinguish primitives in the game and, later on, the principles of design” (Lankoski & Björk, 2015, p. 26). At the same time, there is danger for the researcher in becoming overwhelmed with data. It is necessary to find an appropriate scope: “Many contemporary games are too big to be described fully. Finding the parts of the games that are relevant for the current focus of interest is the first part of formal analysis. After that, the focus moves to more detailed descriptions” (Lankoski & Björk, 2015, p. 27). So it is important for the researcher to play the game as much as possible to establish the primary elements for analysis, but also to keep in mind that an exhaustive exploration may not be feasible. Limiting the scope of a large game will help to keep the researcher on track. Another element in their writing that is very useful in my research is their support of formal analysis as a qualitative research method that stands up to evaluation in terms of trustworthiness and reliability. Referencing the authority of Cresswell (2014) in the deter- mination of validity, they assert that the quality of formal analysis can be assessed through its “consistency of categorization over time (a primitive A is always described as primitive A)” and the ability for different researchers to use the same vocabulary to describe the same phenomena (Lankoski & Björk, 2015, p. 27). Similarly, the application of an analytical lens, such as the one that Thompson used in examining dozens of films for structural patterns, reflects that consistency over time. This gives me confidence that my use of the classical narrative arc as a lens for looking at game narratives also demonstrates rigor and that it would meet the test for quality of formal analysis. Furthermore, Lankoski and Bjork provide a list of four strategies for researchers to maintain validity and reliability. They acknowledge that they have adapted these strategies directly from the criteria endorsed by Cresswell (2014, pp. 202-204). I will paraphrase their strategies below:

• They recommend using rich description of the gameplay, which allows other researchers to follow the logic to its conclusions. • They suggest disclosing the researchers’ relevant background and interests, in order to maintain transparency about potential biases. • They endorse spending prolonged time with the game, playing multiple times and experimenting with different options to better grasp the workings of the system. This in turn allows more nuanced descriptions to emerge. • They recommend continually checking the working categories and descriptions in the analysis against the definitions that the researcher has provided concerning the game. (Lankoski & Björk, 2015, p. 27)

62 Following their descriptions of the techniques of formal analysis applied to games, Lankoski and Bjork go on to provide concrete examples of their methods by analyzing Plants vs. Zombies (PopCap, 2009) and Ico (Sony Interactive Entertainment, 2001). They start with making inventories of the ‘primitives’ observed in each game, including components, player actions and story events. Lankoski and Bjork provide I found this reading to be extremely informative and it connects very strongly with the other scholarship that I have encountered regarding methodologies for game analysis.

Myers 2010

In his book, Play Redux, David Myers devotes a chapter to the application of formal analysis to games. He gives a brief history of the Russian Formalists and the American New Critics, groups who each embraced the scrutiny of literature on its own terms. Myers writes that the Russian Formalists were “reacting in part against the nineteenth-century practice of evaluating works of literature as products of a particular writer working in a particular venue” (Myers, 2010, p. 40). He explains that notable members of the Russian formalist movement included Viktor Shklovsky (On the Theory of Prose, 1925), Boris Eikhenbaum (Melody of the Russian Lyrical Verse, 1921), Yuri Tynyanov (Archaists and Innovators, 1925), and Boris Tomashevsky (Russian Versification: Metrics, 1923) (Myers, 2010, p. 40). Myers continues to the American formalists, who “Like their Russian predecessors, … eschewed literary analysis based on either intent of author (the intentional fallacy) or individual and private effects on readers (the affective fallacy)” (Myers, 2010, p. 41). Indeed the intentional fallacy and the affective fallacy were quite influential on the theorists who came after them. The Russian and American Formalists had a “common goal of studying scientifically, measur- ing empirically, and defining objectively the formal properties of ‘literariness’ (literaturnost)” (Myers, 2010, p. 41). This empirical approach is helpful in providing a path to follow in the analysis of games. Myers credits the New Critics with introducing the method of “close reading” as a tool for literary analysis. He warns however, that this method can also have its disadvantages, arguing that both the Russian and American formalists groups showed an “inability to move from an analysis of specific components of texts to an explication of more general principles of literature” and that New Criticism has itself been criticized “as an elitist approach” due to the requirement that the would-be critic must have some “advanced expertise prior to the application of formalist methods” (Myers, 2010, p. 42). Myers argues that formalism came to be abandoned historically because it did not take the opportunity to incorporate advanced ideas about the nature of language and mind. He writes that “the ‘process of per- ception’ referred to by formalists is perhaps better thought of, in a more general sense, as a process of semiosis – or, even more generally, as a process of cognition” and furthermore that “Given this interpretation, formalism can be recognized as an early form of cognitive

63 science, with its goal being to find formal properties of sign and symbol systems indicative of formal properties of the mind” (Myers, 2010, p. 43). Ultimately, Myers believes that “the subjective experience of literature originates within and is determined by biological properties of the human brain. This important assumption—of a cognitive aesthetic—was not a well-articulated part of the early formalist agenda” (Myers, 2010, p. 44). Finally, Myers articulates the relevance of formalism to the study of games in particular:

The argument I am offering here is, in parallel to that of early formalism, a rather simple one: digital games and interactive play occupy the same position relative to natural human semiosis that, for the Russian formalists, literature and poetic language occupy relative to conventional human language. Thus, the cognitive requirements for computer game play are parallel, in part, with requirements for reading. The initial process of learning computer game controls is analogous to the process of learning an alphabet, grammar, and syntax. In both cases, aesthetic pleasures are delayed during a period in which player/reader frustration is more likely than player/reader enjoyment. (Myers, 2010, p. 45)

I like Myers’ acknowledgement of the similarities between the act of reading a text and of playing a game. As Eric Zimmerman (2004) might observe, both are acts of cognitive interactivity. There is an act of interpretation that takes place in both instances, moving from the representations to the meanings encoded there. Of course, games also demonstrate Zimmerman’s mode of explicit interactivity, where the interactor participates by engaging with designed choices (2004). This may take the form of clicking on links in a hypertext, or manipulating items within a simulation. Near the conclusion of his essay, Myers connects digital codes with language codes, writing that “Digital media provide rich opportunities for formal analysis, due to their reliance on an explicit and embedded code. In fact, most available formal analyses of media engage the relationship between media codes and human codes (e.g., language)” (Myers, 2010, p. 47). He cites Manovich’s ideas about “transparency” of code, comparing that to the mystery still involved in the ‘codes’ of biology. Myers expresses this as the relationship between “codes of media and codes of brains” (Myers, 2010, p. 48). Ultimately, he concludes that “human aesthetics is contained within the mechanics of a human senso- rium and that the study of digital media aesthetics is essentially the study of the human neurological system, including those cognitive functions that process, interpret, and transform sensory data: semiosis” (Myers, 2010, p. 49). It is interesting to make a connection between digital codes such as programming, and the codes embedded in language itself. This supports the idea that the act of interpretation and engagement involved in reading a story and playing a game are in many ways analogous, both requiring active involvement from the viewer.

64 Consalvo & Dutton 2006

In an early call for the improvement and consolidation of vocabulary about games studies, Consalvo and Dutton assert that “Although the study of digital games is steadily increasing, there has been little or no effort to develop a method for the qualitative, critical analysis of games as ‘texts’ (broadly defined)” (Consalvo & Dutton, 2006, para 1). They write that previous empirical approaches to games research have either relied upon studies of the audience or critiques of the gameplay itself. Player studies included experiments, surveys, in-depth interviews and the study of log files from multiplayer games. Some studies did analyze the game as a ‘text,’ with a focus on questioning the content of ideological representations involving violence, gender and racial stereotypes. Consalvo and Dutton assert that many qualitative studies have not specified their methods for analyzing games in general. The authors acknowledge the preliminary steps made by Konzack (2002) and Aarseth (2003) in describing some of the categories needed for game study, though there are flaws – neither Aarseth nor Konzack complete their templates in looking at a specific game, leaving blanks in their analysis due to time constraints or lack of access to source code (Consalvo & Dutton, 2006, para 4). Consalvo and Dutton propose to develop in this article “a template for the qualitative, critical analysis of games as broadly figured ‘texts’ ” (Consalvo & Dutton, 2006, para 10). In order to do so, they suggest 4 areas of analysis that can be used as methodological tools: Object Inventory, Interface Study, Interaction Map and Gameplay Log. The focus of their analysis in this particular article was to answer questions of how sexuality was represented in The Sims. The authors suggest using audio recording technology or taking paper notes during the game. Looking at changes in interactions through the course of the game can reveal much about the narrative or ideological themes in the plot. In regard to the gameplay log, Consalvo and Dutton recommend observing “the overall ‘world’ of the game and the emergent gameplay that can come into being” (Consalvo & Dutton, 2006, para 36). The authors are unclear, however, what form the gameplay log should take, and whether it consists only of written notes or some other mode of collecting information. This essay is helpful in describing more ways to acceptably collect and organize information related to gameplay and helps to at least present some initial ways to go about researching games in themselves.

Fernandez-Vara 2014

Fernandez-Vara writes that “Traditionally, textual analysis in the humanities tends to limit itself to the information within the text—what is not included in the text is not part of the analysis, because the text should speak for itself”(Fernández-Vara, 2014). I agree with this sentiment and believe that it is consistent with the goals of formal analysis. I do want to distinguish the use of walkthroughs from the use of paratexts in the sense of Genette’s ideas

65 about what constitutes a paratext. In the context of formal analysis, it is useful to consider where the boundaries of information gathering might need to be drawn. Fernandez-Vara writes that

If we consider games texts, we can also understand them better by analyzing what Gérard Genette calls paratexts—texts that surround the main text being analyzed, which transform and condition how the audience interprets that main text. Texts such as the author’s name or the title, reviews, or discussions about the work can predispose the audience to read the text a certain way. (Fernández-Vara, 2014)

She goes on to indicate that “In videogame terms, paratexts would include the box of the game, the instruction manual, the game’s commercial website, reviews, and interviews with the developers, as well as other media, from other games to commercials or films that may have been inspired by the game or spawned by it” (Fernández-Vara, 2014). She also notes that including paratexts in the analysis of a game enhances and broadens the levels of possible interpretation. It is useful to consider how ‘paratexts’ such as the instruction manual, reviews, and interviews with developers may affect the position of the researcher. In my study, I preferred to limit these additional sources of information. I did find the game manuals essential to understanding the controls of the game, but did not spend time reading reviews of the game. However, I did use walkthroughs and wikis to improve my ability to traverse the game, only after the first ‘naive’ playthrough. My justification is that walkthroughs and strategy guides help with managing the game mechanics and improving movement through the game world, in order to accomplish the goal of collecting evidence there. Strategy guides are tools have a place in helping the researcher to complete the first-hand gameplay that is intrinsic to the appreciation and analysis of the gameplay experience. The evidence that is gathered and used in my analysis is based upon this first hand experience of the game artifact itself.

Carr 2006

The book Computer Games: Text, Narrative and Play began as a 2001 research project in the UK on the textuality of computer games. In the first chapter, the authors note that despite their similarity to other cultural forms, games should be studied on their own terms and “not simply as a new form of hypertext, literature, drama or cinema” (Carr, 2006, p. 5). A different kind of participation is required in games because of their procedural nature. Using definitions of games and gameplay from Celia Pearce, Jesper Juul and Mark Wolf, the authors compare different types of game genres, choosing for the purposes of the book to focus on CRPGs and Action Adventure games. In their approach to game studies, the authors write that “Theory developed especially for computer games is certainly useful (as the typologies and definitions used in this chapter demonstrate). Yet we would argue that theories drawn from narrative theory, film studies, social semiotic theory, sociology

66 and audience research are also applicable – albeit not without thoughtful adaptation” (Carr, 2006, p. 11). More importantly, to situate their study of games as texts, they write that calling a game a text does not diminish the importance of chance or interactivity to its distinctness as a medium. They go on to explain that

Being a text does not mean that something has to have materiality; nor is it limited to things that are written down, as texts might well incorporate a variety of communicative modes (speech, song, sound, writing, visual design). A text is composed for some kind of purpose beyond the everyday, the disposable or the ephemeral. What matters is that it is recognizable and that (in some broad sense) it is replicable. So, for our purposes, the fact that computer games are only fully realized when they are played does not exempt them from being ‘texts’. (Carr, 2006, p. 12)

So the materiality of the medium is not compromised by the notion of a game being a text. In their study, Carr’s team has tried to increase the opportunities for reader familiarity by deliberately choosing games that have been on the market for years, so that many people will have played and understood these games. The result is to offer some models which the reader may use in analyzing games they have chosen. Chapter 3 of the Carr text addresses the computer RPG Baldur’s Gate and the ways in which it conveys story to the player through character dialog with NPCs, environmental information, journal entries and books that contain background story information which can be read within the interface. In the game Baldur’s Gate, there are narrated events which occur with no intervention from the player, as well as simultaneously narrated events (as per Genette’s definition) which are manifested as turn by turn textual descriptions which appear on screen during battles in which the player participates. One problem that the writers identify is that breaking the gameplay down into ‘sending’ and ‘receiving’ communication to fit Chatman or Aarseth’s model of ‘intrigue’ “might conceal more than it explains” (Carr, 2006, p. 40). Instead, there is a more complex interplay of game mechanics and narrative possibilities in the game that they are analyzing. They write that

While it is possible to distinguish between gameplay and the narrative offers and events in Baldur’s Gate, in practice the two are interwoven. Once the game is under way, each saved point reflects a long chain of chance, player action, setting and narrative content, all worked together. Each time the game is loaded, the characters are in a particular location, facing a set of circumstances, and subject to conditions that reflect a complex combination of accumulated gameplay, plot and player choice. (Carr, 2006, p. 44)

The idea of the interweaving of gameplay and narrative is important to the exploration of this field. Recognizing that chance, narrative and player actions are all combined to produce a whole that is something more than the sum of its parts is crucial for doing a thorough interpretation of the game under examination. This is an idea that I will return to later in the discussion section of this thesis. Another point that the authors raise is that the role of the player is also mutable between roleplaying and being addressed as the protagonist, and being addressed as the player,

67 with the capability of altering game settings. Overall, this book is a much-needed look at narrative in games which begins to apply some literary theory towards the subject. However, it seems to focus on description of the qualities of a few games rather than explicitly offering tools for analysis.

3.1.2 Close Reading of Games

Once it has been established that games can be analyzed as texts, the next step is to apply the technique of close reading to the text. It can be challenging to adapt techniques from one medium to another. This is something that the authors of Close Reading New Media have addressed. Close reading techniques applied to new media are described by van Looy and Baetens who have proposed a methodical approach to reading these types of texts, encouraging the scholar “to slow down, to look into details, to build up a framework brick after brick,” so that a “meaningful whole” can be made (Van Looy & Baetens, 2003, p. 8). They note especially that a researcher should recognize the contrast between “ ‘looking at’ and ‘looking into,’ between being confronted with and being submerged in the text” (Van Looy & Baetens, 2003, p. 10). They suggest that Bolter and Grusin (1999) have a similar concept in mind with the duality between hypermediacy and immediacy. This dialectic between the two modes was important to the process as explained by Bizzocchi and Tanenbaum in a series of writings on the application of close reading to the study of games. One of the earliest pieces appeared in Loading, a journal of the Canadian Game Studies Association.

Bizzocchi and Tanenbaum 2011, 2012

In a very thorough analysis of the state of close reading methods in game studies, Bizzocchi and Tannenbaum have published a series of papers that detail the application of this method and help to close some of the gaps in the literature on this methodology. In a 2011 paper, they write that close reading evolved from the work of the “New Critics” in the early 1940s and can be defined as “a detailed examination, deconstruction, and analysis of a media text. It is the quintessential humanist methodology, born in the study of literature, and adapted to other media forms such as cinema studies” (Bizzocchi & Tanenbaum, 2011, p. 289). This puts the method into some historical context. Of course, games are not the same as cinema and present their own unique challenges in close reading. Some of the difficulties involved in using this method that Bizzocchi and Tanenbaum have observed are as follows:

• Indeterminate nature - what is encountered in one playthrough may not be seen again • Size - large storyworld and cast of NPCs require an investment of time

68 • Skill - to traverse the storyworld, a player must have the requisite skill with the interface and understanding of game mechanics (Bizzocchi & Tanenbaum, 2011, pp. 299-301)

To mitigate some of these issues, they have experimented with the use of an ‘imagined naive reader’ in their own work. In addition the construction of analytical lenses to focus the readings has been integral to their investigations. In their 2012 article, Bizzocchi and Tanenbaum apply Bizzocchi’s narrative framework to the video game Mass Effect 2. The authors use the methodology of close reading to examine the game Mass Effect against a framework of character, storyworld, narrativized interface, emotion, and plot coherence in order to better understand how narratives work in games. The authors argue that through the use of ‘narrative texture’ and narrativized interface, the design of narrative in a game facilitates its incorporation into the game mechanics. They write, “To develop the digital game into a richer narrative platform, a rigorous understanding of the specific poetics of narrative within the medium is necessary” (Bizzoc- chi & Tanenbaum, 2012, p. 393). One question that often recurs in the context of game studies and of narrative in the medium is whether there is an inherent incompatibility between a player’s ability to choose and control elements of a game and the player’s ability to still be immersed in the pleasure of the story. Two ways that the authors argue these incompatibilities can be minimized are with a “broad narrative texture” in the design of the interactive work and narrativity in the interface design itself (Bizzocchi & Tanenbaum, 2012, p. 394). They explain their perspective on close reading as “Close reading is the detailed observation of a work, based on immersion into the piece sustained over repeated viewing, supplemented by the systematic notation of relevant details, leading to an explication and higher order analysis of the work” (Bizzocchi & Tanenbaum, 2012, p. 395). These key habits help to produce a well-reasoned and thorough research practice. Textual analysis is of course a foundational perspective that is being brought to the method they use. Bizzocchi and Tanenbaum explain that “Both design channels and design principles are within the domain of poetics. Our version of close reading can be seen as a form of textual analysis whose purpose is to uncover the design decisions manifest in representative artifact, and in the process to understand the effects of the design on the experience” (Bizzocchi & Tanenbaum, 2012, p. 395). After several traversals of the game, the authors describe three different versions of the main avatar, Shepard: one is a paragon of virtue, another a pragmatic individualist, and a third was quite nihilistic. Through these experiments the authors arrived at a greater understanding of the role of the player avatar in exposing the narrative of the game and influencing the outcome of the story. They point out some of the crossover: “An overlap of narrative emotion and ludic emotion can be reinforcing—an indication of a more robust game experience. As game players, but also as Shepard-character, we exulted at the violent destruction of an enemy—hence our real fondness for Grunt and to some extent for all our fighting squadmates” (Bizzocchi & Tanen- baum, 2012, p. 399). The authors assert that “By directing the participation of the player

69 into narrower channels of self-expression, however, such as inflecting Shepard’s personality, or choosing which squad member loyalty missions to complete, the game provides meaningful opportunities for active engagement with the established storyworld” (Bizzocchi & Tanenbaum, 2012, p. 402). The authors themselves have experimented with role-playing the character of Shepard, at one point consistently making ‘nihilistic’ choices to see what patterns affected the final outcome of the game’s story, as they describe on pages 398-399 of the article. Part of the reasoning for doing the study of Mass Effect 2 was to contend “that it is through extended communities of practice that the future of interactive narrative will be born and argue that careful examination of narrative games emerging from these communities can yield deep insight into the development of the medium” (Bizzocchi & Tanenbaum, 2012, p. 395). By using close reading in examining the game, the authors mean “the detailed observation of a work, based on immersion into the piece sustained over repeated viewing, supplemented by the systematic notation of relevant details, leading to an explication and higher order analysis of the work” (Bizzocchi & Tanenbaum, 2012, p. 395). Poetics involves using design channels or design principles to evaluate the piece. Further, “Our version of close reading can be seen as a form of textual analysis whose purpose is to uncover the design decisions manifest in representative artifact, and in the process to understand the effects of the design on the experience” (Bizzocchi & Tanenbaum, 2012, p. 395). So the ideas surrounding design choices and their effects on experience are an important part of the process of researching games. Because a game differs from the way that a film or novel is experienced, the way that a narrative arc is implemented must also differ. Citing Henry Jenkins’ 2004 article on narrative architecture, they write that, “The player’s progress through game levels is one manifestation of a modified overall arc. Within that overall path, a player engages in a series of subsidiary narrative arcs down to and including ‘micronarratives’ – miniature narrative arcs, each with its own narrative progression and cohesion” (Bizzocchi & Tanenbaum, 2012, p. 395-6). In addition to plot, character is important to help player to identify with their role in the game. Emotion in a game includes the experience of empathy with characters in their plight, along with the player’s own emotions during gameplay. Finally, narrativized interface was examined for its influence on the player’s experience of story. For data collection the authors write, “We relied on several strategies to reconcile our immersive experience with accuracy and objectification of results: multiple playthroughs, a summative joint playthrough with breaks for shared discussion, the use of intensive in-process notetaking and screenshots, and detailed review and analysis when the playthroughs were complete” (Bizzocchi & Tanenbaum, 2012, p. 396). This resulted in “5 days of simultaneous play and discussion, 55 pages of hand-written notes, several hundred screenshots of representative gameplay/narrative moments, and a few videos of key narrative passages” (Bizzocchi

70 & Tanenbaum, 2012, p. 396). It is clear that close reading a game generates a vast amount of data. After playing the game in different modes, some interesting ideas emerged about the importance of character: “The player character of Shepard does some important narrative work, by allowing the player to inflect the attitude of the primary frame on the game world, while simultaneously providing a stable embodiment of the core ethos of the story.” Also, the NPC crew members helped to provide alternate narrative points of view: “They provide richness and detail about the world, but perhaps more importantly their narratives provide a structure, a context, and a motivation for the player’s journey through the game” (Bizzocchi & Tanenbaum, 2012, p. 399). Other NPCs in the game revealed information that helped the player to comprehend the plot, and played an interesting role with the in-game messaging system, giving another avenue of interaction and getting to know the characters. The authors also noted details about how the storyworld was presented and especially how it was shown in the navigation interface. To enhance the narrativized interface, the game has a technical sci-fi aesthetic that adds to the interactive experience of the storyworld. In describing the characteristics of the game Mass Effect 2, the authors discuss the feeling of bounded agency and its relationship to the narrative arc. This is a fundamental unit that I am using in my own research. Bizzocchi and Tanenbaum here describe how they perceive the form of the arc in the research that they have conducted:

Within each game, the high-level arc is your overall progress through the game to the conclusion. The closing stage of this arc is colored by your choice of personality and the implications that flow from that. At the intermediate level, the game presents a number of subsidiary arcs for the player/Shepard to traverse: required battles, optional but recommended loyalty missions, secondary mining missions to add resources. Each of these has its own narrative arc: a set-up, complicating events, challenges and a final conclusion (climax) to the battle or mission. Weaving through this quilt of battles, missions, and quests are the evolving thread of your relationships with your squadmate NPCs. Finally, at the most detailed level, each battle and even each conversation carries an arc of its own. These micro-arcs individually lean toward the primarily ludic or the primarily narrative, but each is also tinged with some measure of the other dimension. (Bizzocchi & Tanenbaum, 2012, p. 401).

I felt that it was important to include this in my dissertation as a model for how to investigate the interlocking narrative arcs and the differences between arcs at a high level, as the spine of the story, and the lower-level arcs that happen in moment-to-moment play. This also helps to demonstrate the use of analytical lenses that Bizzocchi and Tanenbaum have used in their work – these include storyworld, emotion, interface character and narrative arcs. Their research findings are based on the relationships that they found between these elements.

71 3.1.3 Hermeneutics and Poetics

Richard Palmer writes in the New Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics that “Poet- ics and hermeneutics are closely related and even overlapping concepts” (2013). He goes on to write that poetics is associated with theories of poetic making as well as interpretation. This relates to “the theory and art of understanding” (2013). In the relationship of the two, Palmer emphasizes that hermeneutics offers to poetics “a legacy of reflection from ancient times to the present on the task of interpretation” (2013). In my present work, I find the distinction to be that hermeneutics is the act of interpretation that brings me closer to conclusions about the poetics of the medium of games, which is the goal of my study. I will look at both of these terms in more depth in the remainder of this section.

Tanenbaum 2015

Joshua Tanenbaum considers the relationship of hermeneutics to the analysis of games in a unique way. He writes that “While there is a rich tradition of critique and hermeneutic scholarship within game studies, very little has been explicitly said about the methodological and epistemological practices involved in applying this approach to game analysis” (J. Tanenbaum, 2015, p. 60). Providing a brief history of hermeneutics, he notes that from its earliest origins, hermeneutics was primarily applied to texts of religion and law (J. Tanen- baum, 2015, p. 60). On the other hand, Tanenbaum continues, philosophical and literary hermeneutics have their intellectual roots in the traditions of logic and rhetoric (J. Tanen- baum, 2015, p. 62). He argues that “Close reading may be seen as a form of rational and empirical inquiry into the poetics of a work that relies upon hermeneutic methods to account for the interpretive frame of the reader” adding that “an emphasis on poetics is oriented toward observable, empirical details within a text, and thus approaches a form of objectivity” (J. Tanenbaum, 2015, p. 68). When applying these techniques to digital media, however, there are additional challenges, such as “indeterminacy” which is a feature less common in traditional texts. In this case it means that the “material instantiation of a game can change in response to the input of the player” (J. Tanenbaum, 2015, p. 69). The “scope” of large games and the “difficulty” were other unique challenges as well as “random access and bookmarking” (J. Tanenbaum, 2015, p. 71). By this he means that games have a unique property which makes some parts less accessible than others. To be able to return to a certain point in the story, granular save points are needed, and often the game interface does not provide the ability to return to these areas after a certain amount of progression. In addressing the question of validity that occurs in qualitative research, Tanenbaum writes that “The burden of proof in hermeneutic inquiry is not whether the scholar describes some objective truth about the text under study. Instead, we must strive to provide evidenced judgements that advance the field’s understanding of games as texts, and as lived expe-

72 riences” (J. Tanenbaum, 2015, p. 71). Additionally, he urges the researcher to strive to identify and clarify the poetics of the medium of games through the use of hermeneutics.

Poetics

Poetics is a very useful concept for the exploration of the characteristics of a narrative work. Aristotle is most commonly associated with the use of the term ‘poetics’ to refer to the analysis of the components of a well-formed work of dramatic art (Aristotle, [ca. 335 B.C.]/ 1987). He arrived at his conclusions through a process of scrutinizing the great exemplars of Greek tragedy to find their most salient characteristics, and consequently to offer guidelines for the effective authorship of new works in the genre. This could be considered an early use of the tool of textual analysis, a means of arriving at design principles through the deep study of existing artifacts. A definition of poetics is provided by the editors of the Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics who define the term this way: “Poetics, then, is in the most specific sense a systematic theory of poetry. It attempts to define the nature of poetry, its kinds and forms, its resources of device and structure, the principles that govern it, the functions that distinguish it from other arts, the conditions under which it can exist, and its effects on readers and auditors” (Brogan, 1993, p. 930). The importance of poetics is in its examination of the formal elements of an artifact or phenomenon in order to learn about the structure of a given medium. By exploring and discussing the findings from this research in terms of poetics my aim is to add to the conversation about the medium of video games and their capacity for storytelling.

Aristotle 1961 In his Introduction to this 1961 edition of Aristotle’s text,1 drama critic Fran- cis Fergusson highlights some of the themes that emerge from the philosopher’s work and gives some background on the differences in meaning between the Greek and English versions. Fergusson argues that having familiarity with several of Aristotle’s works can help the reader to better understand the fragmentary nature of The Poetics due to Aristotle’s fre- quent use of the same key terms, such as “action” and “form” (Fergusson, [ca. 335 B.C.]/ 1961). Fergusson also categorizes The Poetics as an empirical work:

Moreover, his whole method is empirical: he starts with works of art that he knew well, and tries to see in them what the poet was aiming at, and how he put his play or poem together. He does not intend the Poetics to be an exact science, or even a textbook with strict laws, as the Renaissance humanists tried to make out with their famous ‘rules’ of the unities of time, place and action. He knew that every poet has his unique vision, and must therefore use the principles of his art in his own way. The Poetics is much more like a cookbook than it is like a textbook in elementary engineering. (Fergusson, [ca. 335 B.C.]/1961, p. 3)

1This edition of The Poetics was translated from Aristotle’s original Greek into English by S.H. Butcher.

73 Fergusson recognizes the empirical nature of Aristotle’s approach to the examination of texts. The application of poetics is described here as a way of determining how the play was constructed and what might be the effects of those mechanics. In essence, Aristotle was the first to apply the term ‘poetics’ to the analysis of the internal structuring of a work of art. He arrived at his conclusions through a process of scrutinizing the great exemplars of Greek tragedy to find their most salient characteristics, and consequently to offer guidelines for the effective authorship of new works in the genre. This could be considered an early use of the tool of textual analysis, a means of arriving at design principles through the deep study of existing artifacts.

Miner 1993 The New Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics is a reference work containing terminology and descriptions drawn from centuries of literary history. Within this edited volume, the entry for “Poetics” by Earl Miner is a useful place to start an examination of what it means to study the poetics of a medium’s form. Included are subsections for both Western and Eastern varieties of poetics, with Theoretical and Historical subcategories for each. Beginning in the Western Theoretical section, the author writes, “Poetics, then, is in the most specific sense a systematic theory of poetry. It attempts to define the nature of poetry, its kinds and forms, its resources of device and structure, the principles that govern it, the functions that distinguish it from other arts, the conditions under which it can exist, and its effects on readers and auditors” (Miner, 1993, p. 930). The author notes that poetic theories may actually take different viewpoints. Miner cites a model taxonomy by the Amer- ican literary critic M. H. Abrams,2 who classified literary theories into four groups: “toward the work itself (objective or formalist theories), toward the audience (pragmatic or affective theories), toward the world (mimetic or realistic theories), and toward the poet-creator (expressive or romantic theories)” (qtd. in Miner, 1993, p. 930). In the case of my own research, I am leaning toward the formalist approach. It is interesting to note that these categories also bear some resemblance to the MDA framework in game design (Hunicke, LeBlanc, & Zubek, 2004). In the MDA framework, the design principles of Mechanics, Dynamics and Aesthetics in a game is mapped against the perspective of the artifact as produced by the game designer, and the artifact as experienced by the player. Mechanics are closer to the designer in the continuum, while Aesthetics is closer to the player, and Dynamics is where the two meet in the middle. This model is useful for a game designer to think about how the structure of the game may be organized to produce aesthetic experiences for the player. In essence, this also implies the importance of poetics.

2See Abrams’ 1953 book, The Mirror and the Lamp: Romantic Theory and the Critical Tradition for a more comprehensive look at mimesis and romanticism in literature.

74 Bordwell 2008 In the introduction to David Bordwell’s book The Poetics of Cinema, the author initially discusses some of the ways in which film form communicates its message. The first chapter on poetics as well as the third chapter on film narrative and its construction are also of interest to games scholars looking for frameworks for studying poetics in a medium. In the Introduction, Bordwell positions the essays in the book in the context of the humanities, and takes the opportunity to soundly criticize the way that “Theory” has been recently used in academia to dull the senses. His disdain here is specifically in reference to the opaque writing he saw dominating much of cultural studies and post-modernist theory. Bordwell seeks to show that film poetics should rightly be seen as an empirical inquiry, and to ask questions such as “What are the conventions of certain storytelling formats, like forking-path plots and network narratives, and how do they engage us?” (Bordwell, 2008, p. 3). In short, the claim that Bordwell makes is that despite the misgivings of humanities scholars in regard to the scientific methodology, his aim “is to produce reliable knowledge, both factual and conceptual, about film as an art form, in the hope that this knowledge will deepen people’s understanding of cinema” (Bordwell, 2008, p. 4). This approach is immensely valuable in its application to the study of the narrative aspects of games as well. In the first chapter of this book, Bordwell defines the role of Poetics:

Poetics derives from the Greek word poiesis, or active making. The poetics of any artistic medium studies the finished work as the result of a process of construction – a process that includes a craft component (such as rules of thumb), the more general principles according to which the work is composed, and its functions, effects, and uses. Any inquiry into the fundamental principles by which artifacts in any representation medium are constructed, and the effects that flow from those principles, can fall within the domain of poetics. (Bordwell, 2008, Chapter 1)

So in essence, poetics is concerned with the process of construction of a work of art, as well as the effects that may be produced in an audience. A research project in poetics can be primarily analytical, theoretical or historical, according to Bordwell, though often the three are mixed with one predominating. It can be descriptive or prescriptive. Aesthetic or genre conventions may be the subject of examination in poetics. Bordwell proposes a framework for research that rests on six considerations: particulars, patterns, purposes, principles, practices, processing. For particulars, Bordwell gives an example the unblinking stare that is often used by actors in a film. This is a detail that may be examined more closely and shared by other films. A pattern of narrative or visual style such as low-key lighting repeatedly used in relation to a certain character can be the focus of inquiry. Some patterns are more noticeable than others, and their significance can be supported by investigating their purpose. Features that occur regularly across many films can lead us to discover principles that unite them. Studying practices involves looking at the creative choices that are made by filmmakers, each with costs and benefits.

75 3.1.4 Summary of Methods

Having established games as texts for the purposes of evaluation, it can be seen that close reading methods are appropriate for the investigation of the story structures in games. This yields an interpretation that brings the researcher closer to an understanding of the poetics of how successful game stories can be constructed. Because the research question is concerned with the functionality of narrative units and their relation to plot coherence, these methods can be reasonably applied to achieve the goal of the research.

3.2 Research Design: Data Collection

I set up this study to better understand the nature of the problem of narrative units in games. The intent of my research is to derive the poetics of plot structure from successful commercial game titles. By looking at these artifacts, I hope to compile a list of characteristics that may be applied to the design and construction of interactive narrative in digital games. The foundations of my study rest upon a qualitative and humanities-based approach which embraces narratological formalism. In this case, the individual video game is construed as a text for the purposes of analysis. I will then apply a close reading process modeled on the precedents set by Bizzocchi & Tanenbaum (2009, 2011, 2012) in their series of papers about close reading in games. My purpose is to investigate the poetics of the form of the video game, and the lens that I will be using as a construct is the classic narrative arc as described by Kristin Thompson (1999): setup, complication, development, resolution. The data being analyzed are the plot events in the games studied. The plot events are examined to see if they can be framed as “narrative modules”. A “narrative module” is recognized in terms of its resemblance to Thompson’s classic narrative arc. These modules are first identified, then analyzed to see their relationship to each other, and their effects on narrative experience in an interactive medium. My study focuses on video games that have a 1st or 3rd-person POV in an immersive photorealistic simulated, 3-dimensionally represented story world (not stereoscopic), as opposed to 2-dimensional abstract or strategy games presented from a bird’s eye view. By video games I mean digital games played at home on a personal computer or television console. My study does not encompass the characteristics of multiplayer, mobile, or pervasive games. It also does not include game cabinets found in public arcades. While the concepts that I am analyzing here may well generalize across other genres, this does not form the basis of my argument in this paper. I am studying several examples of AAA single-player action videogames. Among these are NHL 12, a hockey sport simulation; Shadow of Mordor, an adventure RPG; and the four most prominent titles in the Deus Ex series, including the original 2001 game, its sequel

76 Invisible War, and the prequel titles Human Revolution and Mankind Divided. I will briefly explain the selection criteria for each of the games in the following subsections. The release dates of these commercial games span sixteen years of game publishing. The technology of digital games has certainly advanced in this time, primarily in the quality and resolution of the graphical representation. The techniques of narrative design have evolved to a certain extent over this period as well. Yet the games that I have selected conform to the categories of embedded and emergent design, which I will discuss in more detail in the fifth chapter of this thesis.

3.2.1 Games as Texts for Study

For the data collection through gameplay, I used the XBox games shown in Figure 3.1. My data collection process relies upon three main stages:

1. Repeated firsthand gameplay 2. Taking detailed notes during this gameplay 3. Recording my own gameplay and reviewing the video for deeper insights

Through the iteration of these three stages as needed, I can develop a more comprehensive view of the games that I am examining. I describe the games in more detail in the sections below.

Figure 3.1: The console games that were the focus of my study.

Pictured in Figure 3.1, the games visible from left to right are: Mankind Divided, Human Revolution, Shadow of Mordor, and NHL 12. Not pictured are the computer games Deus Ex and Invisible War, which did not include such packaging, but were installed as direct software downloaded from Steam. The games that I selected for my research are as follows:

77 • NHL 12 (EA Sports, 2011) • Middle Earth: Shadow of Mordor (Monolith Productions, 2014) • Deus Ex (Ion Storm, 2000) • Deus Ex: Invisible War (Ion Storm, 2003) • Deus Ex: Human Revolution (Eidos Montreal, 2011) • Deus Ex: Mankind Divided (Eidos Montreal, 2016)

In the following sections, I will provide a brief description of each game.

NHL 12 (EA, 2011)

NHL 12 was selected because it is a straightforward action game, providing a good opportunity to explore the emergent narrative framework in a direct way. My research focused on the default mode of play (“Play Now”), which offers instant action after selecting a pair of NHL teams. Though this game is popular as a multiplayer experience, my focus remains in the narrative possibilities in single-player mode. Hardware used: XBox 360 console and controller for all playthroughs. Screen capture video was recorded using the Hauppauge external recording device. (See Figure 3.2).

Middle Earth: Shadow of Mordor (Warner Bros., 2014)

Shadow of Mordor was selected because it is an action game that contains contest brackets similar to a sports game and combines that with an embedded quest-structured narrative. Shadow of Mordor makes a good transition between sports games and quest based games. The gameplay in both games is influenced by the element of tournament brackets. While I was in the process of deciding what other games to use in my study, I found an article by Cassidee Moser, a writer for the gaming site IGN, who had interviewed a developer involved in creating Shadow of Mordor. Writing about the 2015 DICE Summit for game developers, Michael de Plater, creative director for Shadow of Mordor, explained that “the Nemesis System was inspired largely by the storytelling potential of sports games.” (Moser, 2015) Moser explains that de Plater is a veteran developer of EA Sports and the Total War franchise. Moser paraphrases de Plater, who says that in his experience “sports games have a large amount of personal story potential. No retries are given to those who lose games, revenge against rival teams can help encourage better strategies and desire to win, and the individualized stories that can be forged by everyone’s unique circumstances of failure and success breed a type of satisfaction” that he felt “could translate well into their open-world action game” (Moser, 2015). Hardware used: XBoxOne console and controller for all playthroughs. Recording was done with external Hauppauge device.

78 Deus Ex: Human Revolution (Square Enix, 2011)

The Deus Ex series was selected because it is highly regarded as an action game with flexible narrative and large degree of player agency. The four major games in the series were released over a total span of 16 years. In their commercial release order the games do not fully conform to a linear sequence, but instead include prequels and sequels. In order to relate the story events in chronological order, I will start my analysis with the prequels (which appeared in 2011 and 2016), and then continue to the original game Deus Ex (2000) with its subsequent sequel, Invisible War (2003). While it was the third game released in the series, Human Revolution began a new story arc set in the fictional 2020s with events that were precursors to those in the original game. This particular game marked the return of the franchise after an 8-year hiatus, taking advantage of higher resolution graphics and processing abilities to add complexity to the gameplay mechanics. Hardware used: XBox 360 console and controller for initial playthrough. Steam PC version used for subsequent playthroughs, streamed through Mac hardware for playing and recording with external Hauppauge device.

Deus Ex: Mankind Divided (Square Enix, 2016)

In the tradition of the action games that preceded it in the series, Mankind Divided ap- pended to Human Revolution’s prequel story of the 2020s-era protagonist. The events in Mankind Divided take place approximately a year after the events depicted in Human Rev- olution. I played this on a newer version of the XBox console, with greater graphics resolution and processing power than its predecessors. Hardware used: XBoxOne console and controller for initial playthrough. Steam PC version used for subsequent playthroughs, streamed through Mac hardware with keyboard and mouse. Recording was done with external Hauppauge device.

Deus Ex (Eidos Interactive, 2000)

Deus Ex is an action game that is consistently on lists of the top 20 games of all time, revered for its flexible gameplay options at a time when very few games were experimenting along those lines. Hardware used: Mac hardware using Wine emulation to run PC software for initial playthrough, with keyboard and mouse. Steam PC version used for subsequent playthroughs, streamed through Mac hardware for playing and recording.

Deus Ex: Invisible War (Eidos Interactive, 2003)

Invisible War is an action game that exhibited slightly more constrained choices than the original Deus Ex, while still providing some flexibility in its story arc. Hardware used: Mac hardware using Wine emulation to run PC software for initial playthrough, with keyboard

79 and mouse. Steam PC version used for subsequent playthroughs, streamed through Mac hardware for playing and recording with external Hauppauge device.

3.2.2 Gameplay and Recording Process

Now I will segue from the conceptual foundations of my methodology to a discussion of the specific mechanics and procedures employed during my close-reading process. I will move from methodological concepts into the more concrete mechanics involved in collecting evidence for analysis.

Hardware setup

For all my game recordings, I used an external capture device (Hauppauge HD PVR Rocket, see Figure 3.2) which allowed me to capture audio and video through HDMI cables on both the XBox console systems and my Macintosh laptop. This was preferable to FRAPPS software because it does not interfere with the host computer’s graphics memory and frame rate during gameplay. In brief, I performed a full playthrough of each game, with additional replay of selected sections of the games in order to capture a larger representation of divergent possibilities. While playing the games on either a console or laptop, I consistently recorded video capture of gameplay in order to revisit details that I would be likely to overlook in the heat of simulated battle. I also made notes by hand which were collected in various notebooks. These notes were then distilled into more structured collections of narrative arcs which I first put into an online note-taking app called Gingkoapp. This provided a novel interface of lexia which were connected in a horizontally oriented and dynamic interface. This allowed me to create more detailed diagrams of the tree structures without regard to the spatial limitations of paper. Ultimately, the size of the notes within a web browser became cumbersome and I transferred them to several files in Tinderbox, a note-taking application with roots in the history of hypertext development. The initial playthroughs of Deus Ex: Human Revolution and NHL 12 were performed on an XBox 360 console system and recorded with an external drive. In Figure 3.2, the Hauppauge device (foreground) can be seen as a small rectangular box with a red button for recording. It is powered by USB and HDMI connections to the laptop and stores the resulting mp4 video files on a small external thumb drive with a 32 Gigabyte capacity.The early play of Deus Ex was done on my Macintosh using Wine software emulation.3 As of 2017, there are newer mods that have improved graphical resolution, but they also have altered some

3For the initial playthrough of Deus Ex (2000), I had to have cheats enabled because of the mod (Kentie, 2008) used to enable gameplay on my Macintosh laptop using Wine emulation software. There is a bug on one level “Deus Ex freezes/hangs/crashes in the LaGuardia airfield map” and the only workaround for that area is to temporarily turn off the robot enemy – otherwise the game crashes.

80 Figure 3.2: Hardware setup for recording gameplay on Macbook.

81 of the gameplay experience, changing maps and AI responsiveness, for example. I chose to use the most ‘vanilla’ version that was available on my machine at the time for greatest authenticity. This brings up a question about what may be considered reasonable in the context of using ‘cheats’ for a research study. Fernandez-Vara also discusses the use of cheats in a formal analysis of a game. She notes that walkthroughs and strategy guides can be very useful because they provide tips from players with greater mastery of the game, which provides an advantage to researchers. They can illuminate areas that a researcher might have missed. She adds that there is some ambiguity about the status of these resources in game analysis, however, noting that

On the one hand, they provide us with an advantage that the everyman player may not have been expected to have. On the other, they provide us with additional information that will help us know more about the game, and they are sources that provide us with valuable information, from expert players as well as from the developers themselves at times, as is the case of some game guides. (Fernández-Vara, 2014).

Choosing whether and how to use these resources is something for the researcher to weigh carefully. Ultimately, whatever guides may be consulted, a researcher should simply be transparent in her writing in acknowledging the particulars of what was used. These details may also be helpful to other researchers who want to be more exhaustive in their own pursuit of information about a game. For my own analysis, the gameplay itself was the most important data to be used. Be- cause the fast reflexes in aiming and shooting, along with mastery of a complex controller are not my strong suit, regrettably, there were moments when I could not succeed in the challenges where fast shooting is required.4 My first playthrough of Deus Ex Human Rev- olution was on the XBox 360, and my progress suffered. For this among other reasons, it took months to finish. My second playthrough was on the PC. Recently, Steam has made it possible to stream a gameplay session hosted on one computer and playable on a second computer. By this mechanism, I was able to launch the game on my PC at home and stream it through my home network to my Mac, so that I could record there. In this way I was able to distribute the computing power so that one machine did not have the compounded burden of running the game as well as recording the interactions. This allowed for a more seamless play experience and a greater amount of immersion once the game session began. In the subsequent playthroughs for most of the games in my study, I benefited greatly from the tips and advice provided by walkthroughs found online. One site that was very helpful was VisualWalkthroughs.com with its recommendations for pacifist playthroughs

4Indeed, this was a handicap to me in the first Mass Effect game. On an XBox controller, I was not able to move the reticle into position accurately enough to survive the initial stages of the game. I plan to try again using a keyboard and mouse now that I have the game on Steam. I suspect that I may be more successful in that hardware format.

82 for Deus Ex and Invisible War (Mangold, 2012). Even with the assistance, of these guides, I was not able to exhaustively explore all the potentially interesting areas of the gameworld. The gameplay that I did was sufficient for answering my research questions with drill-downs from the major narrative units to the smallest micronarratives. I recorded my observations and notes on gameplay during the data-gathering phase, guided by the analytical lenses described in the Methods section above. In each of the selected games, the multiple playthroughs provided differentiated paths to analyze. In Human Revolution, for example, the player can take a stealth vs. combat-oriented approach to navigating the world. The abilities of the avatar character can be cultivated in a number of ways. These may include specialization in non-lethal takedowns, using computer hacking skills to thwart enemies, and enhanced physical abilities, such as improved running endurance or breathing capacity. Of course, not every permutation can be explored, but the key threads of narrative continuity are the ones that will be most revealing. While many notes were taken by hand during and after gameplay sessions, the video recordings of the on-screen events allowed details to be examined more closely at a slower pace. As Tanenbaum and Bizzocchi explained about their process of gathering data for Mass Effect 2, “Close reading is the detailed observation of a work, based on immersion into the piece sustained over repeated viewing, supplemented by the systematic notation of relevant details, leading to an explication and higher order analysis of the work” (Bizzocchi & Tanenbaum, 2012).

3.3 Research Design: Data Analysis

From the specifics of data collection, I return to the process of analyzing the data that is uncovered. By playing the games and recording gameplay sessions, a corpus of audiovisual and textual notes will be produced. These may serve primarily for refreshing the memory of gameplay in synthesizing findings derived from the experience. Doing a close reading on a novel is a detailed and time consuming process. But a novel is single-dimensional compared to the potential narrative complexity of a game. To exhaustively investigate the consequences of every choice and every possible combination of actions and results is unrealistic for a game that takes 30 hours or more to complete in a single pass. In order to narrow down the observations into a tractable set, some constraints must be applied when collecting data. By doing so, the researcher can focus on the criteria that should be most instructive in answering the research question. In this case, my focus was on the manifestation of plot units in my selected games, and their interrelationships. In the early stages of playing the games, I tried to maintain the stance of a “naive” observer, with my own enactment of Bizzocchi and Tanenbaum’s “oscillation” between the immediacy of gameplay and the hypermediation involved in being a researcher looking for evidence. I played each game once, then followed with subsequent gameplay to explore areas and plot lines that I had missed. At this second stage, I made use of walkthroughs

83 and strategy guides to make my traversal more time-efficient. I took notes by hand on paper, usually after a gameplay session, because the intensity and concentration required to merely survive at my skill level occupied the greater part of my focus. During the gameplay sessions, I recorded audio and video captures directly from the console or computer – this did not include video of my commentary or facial reactions as are popularly done in “Let’s Play” video documentation online. Using my notes and the captured video files of my playthroughs, I began to build more complex notes to investigate the relationships between the narrative units that I was finding on many levels of scale in the games. These organized notes took the form of horizontal outlines using the online software gingkoapp.com, as well as plot maps that I made in Tinderbox note-taking software. Through these methods, I tested, revised and extended my initial hypotheses about how the narrative units in the games were working.

3.3.1 The Lens: Four Act Structure and Narrative Units

Following the methods practiced by Bizzocchi and Tanenbaum (2009; 2011; 2012), I chose to use a lens to filter the information that I gathered for this study. Because the subject of my research question focused on the characteristics of the narrative units in these games, my lens must help to identify those units. My hypothesis was based on Thompson’s ideas about plot structure, so I chose to use the plot phases described by Thompson (1999) and modified by Bizzocchi (2007). These plot phases are Setup, Complication, Development and Resolution. I tentatively tested this hypothesis against the evidence in the games that I had played. The importance of lenses must not be understated. A video game produces enormous amounts of information and without specific lenses in mind, the task of organizing and categorizing the events that take place would be overwhelming. Because I am looking for the characteristics of plot structure, I need to identify it at all levels of scale to see how pervasive it is. By applying the distinguishing characteristics of plot described in the next sections, I can advance my research in a focused manner.

3.3.2 Thompson’s Model

In Storytelling in the New Hollywood, Kristin Thompson discusses the large-scale divisions in plot structure that she has found through watching dozens of films (Thompson, 1999). She begins her discussion with an overview/survey of existing concepts for these divisions in drama, from Aristotle to Freytag to Syd Field. Mostly, these are in terms of “Acts.” Thomp- son arrives at four major divisions: Setup, Complication, Development and Climax, with the occasional Denouement. It appears to me that Thompson’s categories are complex. Transi- tioning from Syd Field’s use of “Acts,” (which derives from the structure of plays with regular curtains and intermissions crisply defining the segments), Thompson proposes four large- scale parts that generally have significant turning points to indicate where the transitions

84 take place. The terms that she uses are “setup,” “the complicating action,” “the development” and “the climax”. To me, it seems that her model of “large-scale parts” does not quite fit in the two categories defined by “complicating action” and “climax,” which instead imply a singular moment. I will explain each of her constructs below. Setup - Thompson describes the Setup in a narrative arc in a way that suggests a phase of some duration. She writes, “In the setup, an initial situation is thoroughly established. Often the protagonist conceives one or more goals during this section, though in some cases the setup sticks to introducing the circumstances that will later lead to the formulation of goals” (Thompson, 1999, p. 28). In a film, this might take place over the course of fifteen minutes or more. Complicating action - In contrast to the Setup, The Complicating Action as Thompson describes it has very little duration. Citing Syd Field, Thompson writes that it is at this point that the action takes a new direction. Further,

That new direction may simply involve the hero pursuing a goal conceived during the setup but having to change tactics dramatically. In many cases, however, the complicating action serves as a sort of counter-setup, building a whole new situation with which the protagonist must cope. Witness provides a perfect example. Its setup brings Rachel and her son Samuel from the Amish community into the violent big-city world that John Book inhabits. The first turning point, Samuel’s identification of the killer as a cop, forces Book to change tactics completely, and the complicating action consists of his flight to the farm and introduction to the unfamiliar Amish world. (Thompson, 1999, p. 28)

As Thompson’s example from Witness illustrates, the Complicating Action tends to be a shorter sequence that effectively demarcates the Setup from the Development that ensues. Development - Like the Setup, Development appears to be more protracted in time over the course of a film. Thompson cites another film to illustrate her concept:

In The Miracle Worker (1962), for example, the development consists of the two weeks Anne spends with Helen in the isolated cabin, trying and failing repeatedly to teach her language. The development ends after the parents have taken Helen back home;· the turning point concludes as Anne reiterates her goal: “I know, one word, and I can put the world in your hand.” That one word, “water,” will cause Helen’s breakthrough at the end of the climax. As is typical of many development sections, very little progress is actually made in this 27-minute section of The Miracle Worker. (Thompson, 1999, pp. 28-9)

The Development, then may last nearly 30 minutes or more, with cycles of progress and obstacles which finally bring the story inevitably to the next major turning point. Climax - As Thompson describes the Climax segment, the pace changes and the duration tends to be more brief than the Development. Thompson indicates that

The development section usually ends at the point where all the premises regarding the goals and the lines of action have been introduced. Here the climax portion begins, and the action shifts into a straightforward progress toward the final resolution, typically building steadily toward a concentrated sequence of high action. The key question now

85 is: will the protagonists’ goals be achieved or not? In Witness, the call that informs Book that Carter has been killed ends the development. Book realizes that help cannot come from outside and that his staying hidden has forced his partner to assume the risk alone. Nothing more needs to be introduced to move the film toward the final battle at the farm. (Thompson, 1999, p. 29)

In this passage, the Development section does resemble the setup in that it is also taking time to introduce particular elements of the story such as the goals and lines of action. In contrast, the Climax seems to designate a clear and highly motivated segment of focused action. It is apparent to me that these large scale divisions in Thompson’s schema are not equal in size. The Setup and Development tend to be longer phases, while the Complication and Climax seem to have a shorter and more focused duration. Looking back at Syd Field’s model of three unequal acts consisting of a short first act, a long second act and a smaller third act, Thompson’s model seems to represent with more clarity where the changes occur. Thompson writes that “Probably the most contentious structural claim I am advancing is the existence of a centrally located turning point. This action has the effect of breaking Field’s problematic”middle” into two large-scale portions” (Thompson, 1999, p. 31). Rather than reinforcing Field’s adherence to three-act structure, Thompson bases her own segment partitions instead on the recurring patterns of turning points that she observed in the films she examined. In Jim Bizzocchi’s writing on the analysis of game narratives (Bizzocchi, 2007), a similar convention of Setup, Complication, Development, and Resolution is derived from Thomp- son’s model. In this case, each segment is understood as a phase. The proportions of each phase are similar to Thompson’s in that the Setup and Development tend to be longer and the Complication and Resolution have a shorter duration. In the Resolution phase, Thomp- son’s Climax is combined with Denouement, providing closure. This particular grouping of four phases is the model that I will be applying to my own research in this thesis. Furthermore, I envision turning points as the particular moments that we as scholars may use to note where the divisions occur. I might think of them as the markers, the punc- tuation that separates/transitions from one phase of the story to the next. For the purposes of scholarly communication, the naming of the phases should have a roughly equal weight- ing. In contrast, the Turning Point may be just a single moment in a narrative. In my own writing, the convention that I’d like to use is to highlight the particular action/event that demarcates the turning point, clarifying that this singular event is a sign for understanding the changeover, and distinguishing the container (the Phase) from the signifier of the boundary (the Turning Point). There is necessarily some ambiguity or arbitrary-ness in the choices made by the scholar in distinguishing these parts. There is some room for disagreement about whether the major phase ends in one particular moment or a similar subsequent one. Also, it may be necessary to distinguish or set aside the potential ‘character arcs’ or emotional arcs that overlap with major plot events in many story structures. A reasonable model can be made from

86 observing and analyzing dramatic arcs, but this may never be definitive. Within the scope of this thesis, the goal is to present and defend one such feasible model, recognizing that alternate interpretations could indeed be postulated from the same material by other scholars.

3.3.3 Culler’s Advice on Narrative Units

The literary theorist Jonathan Culler writes about narrative units in literature in his chapter “Defining Narrative Units”. He notes that a plot summary can vary from a single sentence to a paragraph of great length and detail. This has to do with the inherent storytelling capacities that we as humans seem to possess. The interesting point is that most readers are able to agree on what plot points are most relevant at any particular level of granularity. Culler adds that “What is striking is how much agreement there would be about what should not be included in these summaries” and that instinctively people know which elements are central to the plot and which are subsidiary (Culler, 1975, pp. 128-129). Ideally, in his opinion, there should be a guiding theory of narrative that helps researchers to explain and model how we as humans make these assessments of a given story. This suggests that there is a cumulative aspect to the interpretation of a text. Using an example from ‘Eveline’ in Joyce’s Dubliners to illustrate his point, he explains that the sequence ends with “Was that wise?” and suggests that the passage

is immediately recognized as an important structuring element which enables us first of all to read the preceding reflections as musings inspired by this prospective change of state and thereby fit them into the plot, and secondly to structure the material which has already been assimilated as reminiscence into positive and negative categories: is going away wise or foolish, what are the advantages and disadvantages, are the memories good or bad? And this tells us that any actions reported in surrounding paragraphs (in the context of reflection and reminiscence) need not be interpreted as part of the plot but may be used solely for their thematic value, as evidence of her attitude. (Culler, 1975, pp. 129-130)

In other words, during the act of reading, the context of a given unit is not fully clear to the reader until more sections have been completed. The question “Was that wise?” forces the reader to reflect on what has transpired already in the story and categorize the new information as central or inessential to the plot. Even in the case of the non-essential components, these still play a role in adding thematic value to the story. In terms of Chatman’s categories these would be distinguished as ‘kernels’ and ‘satellites’ (Chatman, 1980). Like- wise, in the case of a narrative game, the magnitude of any segment’s importance to the plot is not always immediately visible. Often this cannot be determined until much of the game has been resolved and the plot points can be reflected upon by the player. Finally, Culler expresses the need for a narrative theory that could provide for researchers a clear method to follow when determining the most important plot elements in a text. He explains that

87 A successful theory must offer an explanation of the hierarchical structuring process by which we move from the text itself to plot summaries. Such a theory would be an integral part of a poetics of the novel, whose task would be to explain how, in organizing the sentences which we encounter, we make sense of a text. Much work remains to be done, but one should at least be able to proceed with a sense of the goals which make the study of plot structure worthwhile. (Culler, 1975, pp. 141-142)

This wish for something like a formula to explain how we as readers structure a plot into hierarchies naturally during our reading process would also be a helpful tool in game analysis and design. For now, this work must be done by a more imperfect process of proposing reasonable arrangements of plot points and segments in narrative arcs and sharing those configurations for discussion.

3.3.4 Methodological Limitations

I might take heed from David Myers’ explanation earlier in this chapter, one drawback for the New Critics in their pursuit of formalist analysis was that they did not move from the particulars of their analyzed objects back to larger generalizations about literature. One caveat is that my game selection still somewhat narrow – choosing action games as a focus may not extrapolate to typify every genre. In addition, only single-player game playthroughs are under consideration for my research. The complexities of multi-player games would add variables that complicate my analysis. This is not within the scope intended for my research at this time. A further distinction to make about the method is that close reading is a hermeneutic act by a single researcher. This differs from other qualitative methods such as a user study where multiple responses are measured and compared. Another concern is the degree to which the researcher’s perspective may be altered by the use of walkthroughs, guides and reviews available for the game in question. For the readings presented in this thesis, the ideal is to maintain openness about the initial gameplay experience by avoiding the use of walkthroughs and reading related texts on the game. Subsequent iterations of play, however, may benefit from consulting gameplay guides in order to take advantage of less obvious paths or attempt different play strategies. To be clear, the actions and events which serve as evidence for my analysis are derived exclusively from my own recorded gameplay experience.5

3.4 Summary of Methodology

In this chapter, I have provided an overview of the methods involved in designing and exe- cuting this research project. I have used the term data here primarily because it conforms

5This amounted to 238.73 gigabytes of video footage on an external hard drive after I downsampled it to 1280 x 720, using H.264 codecs to create leaner mp4 files.

88 with the formal expectations of a methods chapter, so the language does bear the stamp of empirical investigation. However, in the context of the argumentation within the remaining chapters, I will once again use the term evidence to refer to the data that I have gathered here.

89 4 | Close Readings of Games as Artifacts

This chapter shows the results of my close reading process. It reflects my observations and preliminary analyses of each of the action games that I have selected for my sample. My first task was to identify the narrative arcs and make note of where they were found. The arcs appear within five or more levels of granularity in each game detailed below. This breakdown of levels is not definitive; rather I present here one possible interpretation of where patterns in the narrative structure may be found. To a certain degree, my divisions are therefore arbitrary – future scholars may find it useful to debate the boundaries separating the units. Readers will notice that the text in this chapter is necessarily repetitive. This repetition of explication is in service to the principle that a specific pattern of plot events replicates at many levels – across and within all the games I reviewed. The arcs that I will describe in this chapter are meant to be a representative sample for each level of narrative unit in each game. In this sense, I am drilling down from the larger units to the smaller ones in each of the games in my study. A comprehensive rendering of all the iterations that can be found within the games would be impossible to read in any reasonable time frame. The iterations are ubiquitous and pervasive. However, the examples detailed in this chapter are representative of the patterns I saw across the games I reviewed. These examples demonstrate what I found over and over again: the events unfolding across and within these games can be parsed against a repeating pattern. The following subchapters will demonstrate how the game events work as evidence of the story patterns observed. (See Table 4.1) The question that I wish to answer with my investigation of these artifacts is “How does the design of narrative units in single-player action video games function in the experience of a coherent story?” My unit of analysis is the 4-phase grouping of a complete narrative arc. In his influential paper on games and narrative, Bizzocchi adopts a modified version of Thompson’s model (2007), and uses this pattern when discussing the narrative arc in games at the micronarrative level. The significant features I am seeking in these artifacts are the possibility and place- ment of complete arcs found at different levels of granularity. I want to identify boundaries

90 Table 4.1: Narrative units in the games, ordered in decreasing scale from top to bottom.

Levels of NHL 12 Shadow of Mordor Deus Ex Narrative Units ”Multi-titled Ongoing titles each 2 Games currently in 4 Games: Deus Ex franchise” Level 0 year, conforming with Middle Earth series: (2000); Invisible War real life composition of Shadow of Mordor (2003); Human hockey teams (2014) and Shadow of Revolution (2011); War (2017) Mankind Divided (2016). Level 1 Full game Full game Full game Level 2 Hockey game period Missions City Level 3 Play Objective Chapter Level 4 ”Micronarrative” ”Micronarrative” Mission/Goal Level 5 Objective Level 6 ”Micronarrative” between narrative units, and better articulate how the narrative units can be defined and delineated. In most of the games, at the higher levels there were natural divisions designed and explicitly identified within the game, such as the “Missions” in Shadow of Mordor. In some of the Deus Ex games, the “Chapter” marks major milestones in the story development. In the following subsections, the reader will be able to see the units that I found in each of the games as iterated through various levels of scale and hierarchy. I have added a brief description of the plot events for each example in order to support my interpretation of the pattern I identified. In Table 4.1, the term “micronarrative” is in quotations because I am applying it as a generic term to refer to the units that are smaller in granularity than the narrative units explicitly named in the games themselves. The other unit names derive directly from the game’s own interface nomenclature.

4.1 Narrative Units in NHL 12

NHL 12 was selected because it is a straightforward action game, providing a good opportunity to explore the emergent narrative framework in a direct way. NHL 12 is one entry in a long-running EA Sports franchise that features gameplay modeled on the audiovisual style of a television broadcast of an NHL hockey game. The game boasts several modes of play that follow different time spans in the career of a team or an individual athlete. My research focused on the default mode of play (“Play Now”), which offers instant action after selecting a pair of teams. The game also provides modes of play which focus on alternate levels of scale:

• One or more seasons in the lifespan of a team

91 Level 1 NHL 12 Full Game

Level 2 First Period Second Period Third Period

Level 3 Play Play Play P Play Play Play Play Play Play P

m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m Level 4 mn mn mn n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n

Figure 4.1: This diagram illustrates the narrative structure of NHL 12. Note that in some places I have abbreviated Play to just P for space. Likewise, “micronarrative” is indicated as mn above.

• The lifetime career of a single athlete • Playoffs and tournaments

These game options promise to extend the experience of narrative arcs beyond a single match and would be a good avenue to explore in future research. In Figure 4.1, the reader can see that the full game session comprises Level 1 in the schema that I am using. The hockey periods make up Level 2, and within each of these are several hockey “plays” which add up to form Level 3. At the bottom level are “micronarratives” (indicated by mn in the diagram) that constitute the smallest narrative units in the game.

4.1.1 NHL 12: Level 1 Unit (Game Match)

In the narrative sequence of a hockey match, the four components of the overall game- length dramatic arc look like this: In the Setup, a cutscene shows the athletes skating onto the ice and getting into position. Often, there is a brief close up shot of the team’s superstar (such as Sidney Crosby for the Penguins) which also helps to get the interactor into the spirit and immersion of the game. The Complication begins when the teams are set up on the ice for the puck drop. At this point, the interactor must play the role of the primary athlete and take control of the puck. For the interactor, this involves the challenge of quickly pressing buttons to win the contest. The Development continues while the puck is in play. Rising and falling action sequences are guaranteed as the interactor changes identities at will to control the athlete nearest the puck. The Conclusion is assured when the time has expired and the cumulative point totals are assessed after all the goals have been completed.

92 4.1.2 NHL 12: Level 2 Unit (Game Periods)

In NHL 12, the game period is compressed to 5 minutes of real-time gameplay by default, as contrasted with the twenty minute standard witnessed in a live NHL broadcast. The game period has a similar dramatic arc to the game match itself: In the Setup, the teams return to the ice after a brief respite. In the Complication, the face-off begins between the opposing teams. In the Development, control of the puck alternates between the competitors as plays and goals are made. In the Conclusion, there is some intermediate closure as the scores are compared. The teams leave the ice for a break, and the interactor must think about what strategies to attempt in order to maintain the lead, or turn the game around in the upcoming periods.

4.1.3 NHL 12: Level 3 Unit (The “Play”)

During a period, a variable number of plays are enacted on the ice. Each play has a narrative arc of its own. In the Setup of a play, an opportunity for scoring arises. In the Complication of a play, there is a defenseman in the way of getting to the goal. In the Development of a play, teamwork is often crucial to success. The interactor must aim and shoot, or ma- nipulate the avatars in such a way as to pass the puck into its best position for a shot. In the Conclusion of a play, the shot is made, and it is either successful or thwarted by the opposing athletes. A point is accrued or missed.

4.1.4 NHL 12: Level 4 Unit (Encounter/Micronarrative)

At the micronarrative level, smaller arcs occur within and between the plays. A micronarrative arc may have this structure: In the Setup of the micronarrative, a teammate has shot from a distance and missed the goal. The unattended puck drifts closer to the red line. In the Complication, the interactor moves his athlete nearer the offensive zone towards the puck, but the alert goalie is pivoting toward it as well. In the Development, both players race toward the puck. In the Conclusion, the goalie takes possession of the puck and the whistle blows, ending the play. Another example could proceed in this fashion: in the Setup of the micronarrative, the interactor has possession of the puck and is skating toward the goal. In the Complication, a defenseman from the opposing team catches up to the interactor, posing a new threat. In the Development, the interactor quickly passes the puck towards a teammate before the defense can intercept it. In the Conclusion, the puck is successfully passed and play continues.

93 Figure 4.2: A hockey match faceoff from an overhead viewpoint in EA’s NHL 12 game.

4.1.5 NHL 12: Summary

To review, in the game NHL 12, I have found that narrative arcs form units at multiple levels. Level 0 is the Franchise level, comprising multiple titles in the series. At Level 1, the full gameplay session is contained. Level 2 consists of exactly three hockey periods. At the beginning of each period, a face-off takes place between the competing teams, as illustrated in Figure 4.2. Level 3 is where the individual plays for the puck form narrative arcs within each period. Finally, Micronarratives are found at Level 4 of the schema. All of these levels, taken together, form a hierarchy of nested narrative arcs. The match is built upon three consecutive periods. Within the periods, each team makes “plays” that contribute to the score that will decide the winner of the match. Within each play, an orchestrated effort is made by one team to score a goal, forming a self-contained arc. At the smallest level of narrative, athletes interact in various combative encounters, which add to the dramatic tension of the game’s rising and falling action. By breaking the game down into narrative phases, it was easier to see where modules of narrative were formed and how those modules were themselves organized into a coherent structure. Likewise, cumulativity could be observed at many levels. The aspect of cumulativity that is most apparent in the hockey game is the point scoring total, which marks the progress of the gamer’s team. In this kind of sports game, the narrative happens in an emergent way. The outcome of a game is not decided in advance, but depends wholly on the performance of the interactor in relation to the statistical probabilities inherent to the design of the game. For instance, the interactor can select which athletes constitute their

94 team, and which ones are active during a play. The representation of the athlete’s abilities correspond in some part to the statistics of their real-life counterparts. These numeric values influence the type of gameplay that is advantageous to the interactor and provide a great range of possible combinations. This enhances the replay value, as so many variables can be tweaked and optimizations made by the player who enjoys a play centered on passing and teamwork, or a defensive style.

4.2 Narrative Units in Middle Earth: Shadow of Mordor

Middle Earth: Shadow of Mordor is the second game in my study. Shadow of Mordor makes a good transition between sports games and quest based games. The gameplay in both games is influenced by the element of tournament brackets. Cassidee Moser, a writer for the gaming site IGN interviewed a developer involved in creating Shadow of Mordor. Writing about the 2015 DICE Summit for game developers, Michael de Plater, creative director for Shadow of Mordor, explained that “the Nemesis System was inspired largely by the storytelling potential of sports games” (Moser, 2015). An important and innovative feature of this game is its Nemesis System, which provides procedurally generated orc enemies from a database of skillsets and characteristics. Each entity is uniquely created for a playthrough, so every player has different groups of enemies. The rank of these enemies is dynamic, based on the player’s record of battles lost against a particular orc. The orc gains power amongst its peers and becomes more difficult to defeat in the next encounter. This increases the challenge, This also provides replayability – when a game has been completed, a new game populates with new characters from the database of traits.

Level 1 Shadow of Mordor Full Game

Level 2 Mission Mission M M Mission M M M Mission Mission M Mission M Mission Mission M M

Level 3 O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O

m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m Level 4 n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n

Figure 4.3: This diagram illustrates the levels in the narrative structure of the game Shadow of Mordor.

The diagram seen in Figure 4.3 shows the way in which the different narrative levels are nested in this game. In Shadow of Mordor, the largest overall narrative arc is the game- long story which takes the protagonist character, Talion, on a journey of revenge across the landscape of Mordor. Talion must find a way to remove his curse and avenge the death of his family. To accomplish this, the player as Talion must slay the Black Hand of Sauron. Along the way, many subsidiary Missions (both mandatory and optional) are given to the

95 player. These Missions often are composed of subsidiary Objectives, which are themselves composed of even smaller narrative units and sequences.

4.2.1 Shadow of Mordor: Level 1 Unit (Game)

The major arc of Shadow of Mordor spans the game itself. Within this arc there are distinct phases as follows: In the Setup phase of the game, a voiceover introduces the setting and the timeline. Through cutscenes, we learn that Talion, the player character, is a Ranger defending the human outpost at The Black Gate from Uruk raids. He and his family are killed by an elite group of Sauron’s orcs. In the Complication phase, when the player resumes control, she soon learns that Talion must destroy The Black Hand of Sauron in order to avenge the death of his family and break the curse that keeps himself in an undead state, bound to a powerful Wraith. The Development of the story occurs as a natural extension of the player’s efforts to overcome the obstacles in Talion’s path. This primarily takes place in the form of open-world exploration and combat against adversaries. Talion explores Mor- dor, fighting orcs of many ranks until he accrues enough knowledge, power, and allies to approach his final target. This is the section of the plot in which the player enjoys the greatest agency. The majority of the story takes place in this phase, composed of the many Missions in the game. The Resolution of the overall arc occurs when Talion confronts The Black Hand in a devastating battle, ultimately defeating his foe. There is also a moment of revelation when Talion finally learns the identity of the Wraith with whom his physical presence is shared. A denouement sets up the possibility of future games to continue the story arc: Rather than enjoy the peace of the hard-earned afterlife, Talion chooses to use his power to continue to fight the larger war against Sauron.

4.2.2 Shadow of Mordor: Level 2 Unit (Mission)

At the next degree of granularity, embedded within the full game arc are the second level of narrative units – the “Missions”. There are 20 Main Missions which together form the overall story arc. In addition, there are 24 optional Rescue Missions, 30 “Legends” which provide bonuses to weapons, and 10 “Survival Challenges” which involve hunting and collecting flora and fauna in the gameworld. One early Mission in the game is “The Interested Party” Mission, which itself contains an arc comprised of 4 phases: In the Setup of the “Interested Party” Mission, Talion encounters some glowing footprints as he is investigating some ruins. He converses with the Wraith, who mentions that “something of great power has left its mark” on the strange creature they had glimpsed earlier. They decide to investigate. In the Complication phase, the creature has hidden within a cave where dangerous beasts live. The Development phase Talion is first attacked by a “caragor” (a vicious four-legged monster in the game world) and narrowly defeats it. Then the tracks lead him to a surprise ambush by a group of hunting orcs. Talion discovers an

96 artifact which sends the Wraith into a flashback, revealing his personal tragedy. Finally, in the Resolution, Talion defeats the orcs and finally meets Gollum, the source of the mysterious tracks. Talion and the Wraith engage the creature (Gollum) in conversation. Gollum reveals a connection to the Wraith and promises to reunite him with his treasures.

4.2.3 Shadow of Mordor: Level 3 Unit (Objective)

Within each of the Missions are embedded “Objectives” (Missions and Objectives are part of the in-game terminology explicitly presented to the player), which form a third level of narrative modularity. Objectives are subsidiary modules within every Mission. A typical Mission may have 3-5 Objectives. In the “Interested Party” Mission, there are 5 Objectives explicitly assigned by the game: “Follow the Tracks,” “Investigate the Cave,” “Eliminate the Enemies”. This last Objective can be broken down into four phases: In the Setup of the “Eliminate the Enemies” Objective, Talion has just vanquished a dangerous caragor that had occupied his attention while Gollum slipped out of the cave. As Talion exits the cave to pursue Gollum, a group of figures appear. In the Complication phase, Talion spots a group of seven orcs who will not let him pass by. They are delighted to pursue Talion instead. In the Development phase, Talion must defeat all seven of the powerful Uruks while also defending himself against another wild caragor makes the fight even more difficult. Finally, in the Resolution of the “Eliminate the Enemies” Objective, Talion defeats the orcs and the caragor, finally reaching the end of the footprints to meet Gollum.

4.2.4 Shadow of Mordor: Level 4 Unit (Micronarrative)

Within the Objective units, there are still smaller narrative units based on the series of encounters needed to traverse the gameplay. The game does not have a specific label for these smaller narrative modules, but we will call them “micronarratives”. These micronarrative units consist of the smaller battles and encounters that occur during the course of carrying out larger story arcs. The battle micronarrative can be described in four phases: In the Setup phase of the battle micronarrative within the “Eliminate the Enemies” Ob- jective, Talion is first alerted to the presence of the hunting party of orcs near the cave exit. In the Complication phase, Talion raises his bow and aims at one of the orcs, but misses. This alerts them to his presence and they charge. In the Development phase, Talion fights the orcs at close range with his sword. In the Resolution, Talion successfully conquers the orcs.

97 4.2.5 Shadow of Mordor: Summary

In Shadow of Mordor, the narrative arcs form units at multiple levels.1 Level 1 is the larger narrative arc formed by playing the full game from start to finish. At Level 2 in my schema, Missions are the narrative unit found there. Level 3 units are made up of the Objectives which support the Missions. At Level 4 are the Micronarratives which comprise the smallest individual units in the story. The Mission structure is a significant illustration of one of the ways that narrative is organized into units. This helps to illustrate its Modular quality. As previously described in the close reading review in Chapter 4, Shadow of Mordor has 20 main Missions which constitute the central story arc of the game. Each Mission is a relatively self-contained story, with an arc of its own, and at the same time forms an integral part of the larger story arc of the entire game. One of these early Missions is the “Interested Party” which is typical, and exemplifies the role of Missions in the overall game. The Mission is a self-enclosed unit that also is an integral part of the larger story. In this Mission, the player first interacts with a mysterious bipedal creature who later is identified as Gollum. Gollum later plays a role in revealing the true identity of the player character.

4.3 Narrative Units in Deus Ex: Introduction

The Deus Ex series of games was selected because it is highly regarded as an action game with flexible narrative and a strong degree of player agency compared to other games in the genre. The four major games in the series were released over a total span of 16 years. As released, the games do not fully conform to a linear sequence, but instead include prequels and sequels. In order to relate the story events in chronological order, I will start my analysis with the prequels, and continue to the original 2000 game with its subsequent sequel.

Metanarrative Arc: Deus Ex Franchise

Level 0 in order of ﬁctional timeline: 2027 AD 2029 AD 2052 AD 2072 AD

Level 1 Human Revolution Mankind Divided Deus Ex Invisible War (released 2011) (released 2016) (released 2000) (released 2003)

Figure 4.4: This diagram illustrates the narrative structure of the Deus Ex Franchise storyline at the topmost levels.

Each game will be examined in terms of how the narrative construction repeats and differs from the others, with the greatest focus on the first title in the series. It is worth examining how these narrative structures have impact within and between the different

1Level 0 is the Franchise level of the Middle Earth series, now with two titles.

98 titles in the series. The games are listed below in order of their chronological setting within the storyworld:

• Human Revolution (Eidos Montreal, 2011) takes place in a fictional Detroit in 2027 AD. • Mankind Divided (Eidos Montreal, 2016) continues the story in 2029 AD. • Deus Ex (Ion Storm, 2000) presents a futuristic world of 2052 AD. • Invisible War (Ion Storm, 2003) depicts a post-apocalyptic world in 2072 AD.

There is some difficulty in describing an overarching plot that incorporates each of the major titles as discrete phases in the story. The Deus Ex franchise began with the release of the eponymous PC game in 2000. In some ways, in terms of establishing game mechanics and introducing the storyworld, it could be argued that Deus Ex, the original game in 2000 fulfills some of the Setup function. Though a sequel was perhaps not intended from the beginning, the success of this game surely led to the company releasing a sequel after all in 2003. The storyworld is much changed in this second game Invisible War, and a new protagonist appears. Much later in 2011 when the franchise was reawakened, the decision was made to do a prequel rather than continue in the chronological order of events established so far. Thus, the third release, Human Revolution, begins in a world much closer to our own, where the possibility of human-biomechanical implants is just beginning to be realized. This game was followed in 2016 by Mankind Divided, which begins shortly after the Human Revolution timeline, thus forming the only clearly direct sequel in the franchise. Mankind Divided continues the story of the same protagonist, just two years later in his life. The latest game iteration makes a total of four major game releases in the franchise arc.2 How successful can an out-of-sequence presentation of plot be with several games released over the course of sixteen years? In film and television, audiences are often presented with flashbacks that explain or add depth to the understanding of events in the running plot. Is it so strange for a triple-A title to do so? To some degree, what is more jarring is the differences in game technology that have occurred over the past decade. The visual appearance in resolution of objects rendered on the screen, along with changes in screen aspect ratio make the original game look crude and quaint on modern screens, if it can be made to run at all. The latest two games benefit from highly detailed and carefully modeled visual storyworlds and the fastest game engines. The events depicted in the most recent games, however, take place earlier in the timeline than the more futuristic events that happen in the first two games. So there is some visual dissonance, at least in that the technological advancements of a distant future are rendered in the technology of the

2An additional minor title, The Fall, was released in 2013 exclusively for tablet devices, but will not be part of this discussion.

99 not-so-distant past. Similar to the feeling of watching Star Trek episodes from the 1960s depicting a future that is later than that depicted in the 2009 Star Trek film, for example. In the four games, there are at least three different protagonists starring as the center of action. This presents a discontinuity as well, though players eventually learn that all the protagonists are genetically related. It would not appear that the franchise arc was something consciously developed in advance; rather it seems to have developed in a more organic fashion as the IP has shifted hands over the years. In this cyberpunk-themed action-adventure game franchise, the multiple layers of story hierarchy are supported by their interlocking structure. Like Shadow of Mordor, the Deus Ex franchise relies on Missions and Objectives as some of its primary narrative modules. To properly identify the final narrative flow, I will discuss the games in the order of events that take place chronologically in the storyworld, rather than the order in which the games were developed and released. Figure 4.4 shows the Deus Ex franchise games in the order of their chronology in the fictional storyworld, taking place from the years 2027 AD in Human Revolution to the more distant future in 2072 AD in Invisible War. The four games of the current franchise form a single meta arc, which is Level 0 in my schema. At Level 1 are the games themselves as individual units. More detailed descriptions of the narrative arcs at each of these levels will follow.

4.4 Narrative Units in Deus Ex: Human Revolution

The release of Human Revolution in 2011 marked the return of the franchise after an 8- year hiatus, taking advantage of higher resolution contemporary graphics. By revisiting the cyberpunk storyworld as a prequel in this title, creative latitude was taken by the designers of this game. A near-future fictional world of 2027 provided freedom to set the foundation for themes that are explored in the other games.

Human Revolution Level 1 2027 AD

Level 2 Detroit_1 Hengsha_1 Montreal Detroit_2 H2 S Panchaea

Level 3 Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8 Ch.9 Ch.10 Ch.11 Ch.12 Ch.13 Ch.14 Ch.15

Level 4 M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M

Level 5 P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O

m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m Level 6 n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n

Figure 4.5: This diagram illustrates the narrative structure of Human Revolution.

In the diagram that can be seen in Figure 4.5, Level 1 refers to the story arc in the game as a whole. The units at Level 2 are the hub cities: Detroit, Hengsha, Montreal and others. Human Revolution differs slightly from the previously released games because it introduces Chapters as a new division of the story into segments. Note that the Chapters

100 are irregular in size and are not perfectly nested. In the early stages of the game, multiple chapters take place within the larger narrative arc of the hub city. In the later stages of the game, time spent in the hub cities is more brief and a single chapter spans two locations. In the final chapter, the arc of the city hub and the chapter coincide.

4.4.1 Deus Ex: Human Revolution: Level 1 Unit (Game)

In the Game Level arc, the four phases of the narrative arc can be seen in this way: In the Setup phase of the Human Revolution game story, Adam Jensen is introduced as the Head of Security at Sarif Industries, a tech company that develops cyborg prosthetics. In the Complication phase, Jensen is attacked by terrorists at the facility and is maimed, while the lead scientist is kidnapped. In the Development phase, Jensen pursues the trail of the terrorists across several cities across the world, defeating each in turn. These incidents escalate to reveal a larger scheme planned by the antagonists. In the Resolution phase, Jensen tracks the clues to an activist in the Arctic broadcasting signals that make augmented humans suddenly violent. The disruption causes serious consequences before Jensen shuts it down. The world must deal with the consequences of the downside of human augmentation.

4.4.2 Deus Ex: Human Revolution: Level 2 Unit (City)

In Human Revolution, there are five cities (Detroit, Hengsha, Montreal, Singapore and Panchea) that make up the major divisions of the game. These divisions are roughly equivalent to game levels. Some cities are visited twice during the game, though this order is not up for choice by the player. Each city is played consecutively, following the plan of the designers. Here I will discuss the story arc in the opening city of the game, Detroit_1. In the arc contained within the city level of Detroit, the phases appear accordingly: In the Setup, Adam Jensen is introduced as a security guard in a biotech firm after a recent terrorist attack that killed scores of employees and left him maimed. Jensen swears revenge. In the Complica- tion phase, Jensen begins investigations into the mercenaries responsible for the attack. The conspiracy proves to be larger than expected. In the Development phase, Jensen follows several leads, uncovering a network of individuals involved stealing secrets from his company. In the Resolution phase, Jensen corners one of the mercenaries, gleaning one last bit of information before they battle to the death. Jensen learns about a connection in China to follow up with later. Jensen relays the information to his CEO and is given permission to pursue the matter in China.

101 4.4.3 Deus Ex: Human Revolution: Level 3 Unit (Chapter)

In Human Revolution, there are fifteen Chapters which divide the overall story arc into discrete units. These units are spread unevenly across the five Cities; Detroit_1, for example, has six chapters, while Hengsha_2 and Singapore share just one chapter. The relation between Chapters and Missions is also complicated. Chapters may contain several Missions, and some Missions can actually span several chapters as well. The Side Quests, for example can begin in one Chapter and be resolved much later in another Chapter, as long as the player is still in the same City session. The Main Missions, however, are more closely tied to the progression of Chapters. These plot points are the ones that are essential to the designed story in the game. The relation between Chapters and Missions is not clear-cut. The numbering of Missions seems to depend on the City, not the Chapter. The purpose of Chapters may be something like the recap that is played at the beginning of an episode of TV: “Last week, on Human Revolution…” The Chapters are only revealed on screen after the player has quit the game and is returning to the game in a new session. Chapter information does not appear on the screen during a gameplay session, and there is no way to access the text except during a fresh start of the program. It would appear that Chapter texts are meant as a refresher, a way of getting back into the flow of the (very convoluted) narrative after an absence. Missions, (and their sub-component Objectives) on the other hand, are very closely tied to ludic goals, and are part of the game screen when the player accesses the HUD in-game menu. I will talk about two Chapters in the Detroit_1 plot: Chapter 2 “Back in the Saddle” and Chapter 6, “Moving Shadows”. Chapter 2 fulfills the second portion of the Setup for the plot of the entire game. It is dramatically uneventful, but serves to acquaint the player with the new powers of the player character and introduces the first main clues to upcoming crises in the game. In the Setup portion of Chapter 2, “Back in the Saddle,” Jensen returns as Security Chief to Sarif HQ after a 6-month convalescence from the extreme surgical measures taken to save his life. In the Complication phase, Jensen receives a summons to his boss’ office. Meanwhile, Jensen’s visual biomodifications are malfunctioning and require repairs. Dur- ing the Development phase, Jensen visits IT Specialist Pritchard’s office for repairs, then continues toward the helipad where his boss awaits. In the Resolution, Jensen arrives to find his boss Mr. Sarif already in the helicopter. Sarif reveals why Jensen has been called. This ends the Resolution and segues into Jensen’s next Mission: a hostage situation is in progress at the manufacturing facility and lives are at stake.3

3The game only tangentially mentions this, but if the player takes too much time (in active gameplay minutes) to get to the Helipad and speak with Sarif, there are consequences in the next chapter when he arrives to free the hostages.

102 A much later chapter, “Moving Shadows,” represents the final stage of the Detroit_1 plot. In the Setup, Jensen arrives by helicopter near an abandoned factory building in the Highland Park area of Detroit. Jensen has traced the evildoers here. In the Complica- tion, Jensen investigates the building and observes a familiar group of mercenaries. To get the answers, he must defeat them. During the Development phase, Jensen explores the building. Two of the mercenaries escape, leaving one bruiser behind. In the Resolu- tion, Jensen battles the bruiser, Barrett, who finally succumbs and reveals key information about the conspirators. Again, the information gained serves to segue into the next chapter, where Jensen travels to China to investigate further.

4.4.4 Deus Ex: Human Revolution: Level 4 Unit (Mission)

In Human Revolution, there are a number of Missions associated with each city level in the game. In Detroit_1, there are 10 main Missions and 6 side quests. Within Chapter 6, one of the most important Missions is Mission 10, “Following the Clues in Highland Park.” This Mission begins after an introductory cutscene showing a dialogue between the main villains in the game. The arc of this Mission looks like this: In the Setup portion of this Mission, Jensen arrives in an abandoned textile factory in Highland Park just in time to overhear a conversation between several members of the Titans, a group of powerful cyborgs behind the sabotage of Sarif. They slip away before Jensen can confront them, so his next step is to track them down. During the Complication phase of this Mission, Jensen learns While exploring the building that it is not in fact abandoned, but instead has been used as a top secret FEMA military command post. Jensen suddenly realizes that the conspiracy goes much deeper than he had previously imagined, and he is not dealing with a simple revenge scenario. In the Development phase of the arc, Jensen tracks the group of villainous augs to the basement. As Namir and his colleague Federova board an elevator, Barrett leaps out from behind a doorway, initiating a violent battle with Jensen. Barrett shoots at Jensen and throws numerous grenades. Finally in the Resolution phase, the climax of this Mission occurs when Jensen is finally able to overcome Barrett’s defenses and defeat him in battle. Barrett grudgingly whispers a location name for Jensen to investigate, while simultaneously pulling the pin on a grenade with the intention of destroying them both. Jensen manages to escape unharmed.

4.4.5 Deus Ex: Human Revolution: Level 5 Unit (Objective)

Within the Mission unit in Human Revolution are subsidiary Objective Units. Mission 10 has three consecutive objectives: “Infiltrate the mercenary compound,” “Locate the mercenary leader” and “Defeat Barrett.” Each of these objectives forms an arc of its own. Looking more closely at the “Defeat Barrett” objective, we can see that it has the following components:

103 During the Setup phase, Jensen is trapped in a warehouse storage area with Barrett, who hurls grenades along with trash talk at Jensen. Jensen needs to subdue Barrett before he can escape. In the Complication phase, when Jensen gets near Barrett, he is seized by the neck and is powerless against the brute. A direct approach is impossible. Jensen learns that he must adopt a different, more indirect approach. In the Development phase, while taking refuge in a storage closet, Jensen finds some ammo for a shotgun and some frag grenades. If he times the throw well, he can temporarily knock Barrett off guard, stunning him and making him vulnerable to normal weapons. Jensen also has some land mines that can be set as traps, and uses them to lure Barrett into a sequence of devastating attacks. Finally, in the Resolution, once Barrett is fully disabled, Jensen draws closer in order to interrogate him. Barrett discloses the name of a key meeting place in Hengsha, and spitefully pulls the pin on a hidden grenade while he is talking. Jensen reacts quickly and escapes the explosion, but Barrett has destroyed himself and can provide no more information.

4.4.6 Deus Ex: Human Revolution: Level 6 Unit (Micronarrative)

Even within the Objective units, there can be found yet smaller units, the micronarratives. The boss fight with Barrett is an extended battle to wear down the defenses of a powerful opponent. During this battle, Jensen must complete several cycles of attacking and retreat- ing in order to survive. These narrative units can also be observed to follow an arc of their own. For example: During the Setup phase of the first micronarrative, Jensen is in a large warehouse facing Barrett across about 5 meters of space. The room is filled with boxes. Jensen needs to get out of Barrett’s sight in order to survive. Jensen moves to the right, ducking behind some boxes and pillars. Barrett continues shooting from a distance, and Jensen takes some damage. During the Complication phase, Jensen rounds the corner and stumbles into the path of a surveillance camera. The beams turn from green to red – Jensen has been identified and his position is now known. In the Development phase, Jensen continues to hide behind a crate. Barrett is moving nearer, but has not pinpointed his target yet. In the Resolution phase, suddenly the screen goes red. Jensen has been hit with a devastating blow from an unknown direction. Did Barrett just throw a grenade? It is game over for Jensen. To provide another example, near the end of the battle, the final micronarrative follows this chain of events: In the Setup portion, Jensen is crouching in the perimeter of the warehouse space, hiding behind a concrete pillar. Jensen needs to damage Barrett enough to weaken him and make his own escape from the building. At this point, Barrett has taken some damage over time, as a result of stumbling into the blast of some of his own grenades. During the

104 Complication phase, Jensen shoots at Barrett to little avail; Following the shots, he quickly grabs Jensen by the neck and easily overpowers him, flinging him like a rag doll across the floor. In the Development phase, Jensen retreats to a hidden area and places a landmine on the floor in Barrett’s path. When Barrett storms after Jensen down the corridor, he trips the mine, resulting in a large explosion. Finally, in the Resolution, the explosion knocks Barrett down, and Jensen moves closer to hear his last words. Barrett discloses the name of an important location, then pulls the pin on a grenade that he was hiding. Jensen backs away in time to escape the explosion and survives the battle.

4.4.7 Deus Ex: Human Revolution: Summary

To summarize, Human Revolution contains units at six different levels of granularity. Level 1 is the arc of the full game. Level 2 is the City. Level 3 is the Chapter. Level 4 is the Mission. In Human Revolution, the Mission structure is one of the primary ways that the story is divided into narrative units. This helps to illustrate its Modular quality. Human Revolution has 10 main Missions. Each Mission is a relatively self-contained story, with an arc of its own, and at the same time the Mission forms an integral part of the larger story arc of the entire game. The Mission is a self-contained unit that demonstrates modularity. Nested within the Mission, Level 5 consists of Objectives. The subcomponents nested at Level 6 are micronarratives. Human Revolution was the first of the Deus Ex games to incorporate Chapters as part of the narrative structure. I will discuss this innovation in more detail within the summary of the Deus Ex games.

4.5 Narrative Units in Deus Ex: Mankind Divided

Mankind Divided continues the prequel story of the 2020s-era protagonist shortly after the events in Human Revolution. Continuing in the late 2020s, directly after the events in HR, this game uses a structure that closely mirrors that of its nearest neighbor, Human Revo- lution.

Mankind Divided Level 1 2029 AD

Swiss Prague Level 2 Dubai Prague_1 Golem City Prague_2 London Alps _3

Level 3 Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8 Ch.9 Ch.10 Ch.11 Ch.12 Ch.13

Level 4 M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M

Figure 4.6: This diagram illustrates the narrative structure of Mankind Divided.

Figure 4.6 shows the division of narrative units in the game into six levels. At the top, Level 1 is where the arc of the spine of the game story is located. Next, at Level 2, the

105 hub cities of Dubai, Prague and others fill the span of the overarching story arc. At the next level down are the Chapters at Level 3. Like in Human Revolution, the Chapters in Mankind Divided do not fit perfectly nested into the model. Some Chapters are small and take place entirely within the hub city, while other Chapters span over two cities. At Level 4, the Mission structures do fit neatly within the city hubs. Likewise, the Primary Objectives at Level 5 are nested within their respective Missions. So too are the micronarratives of Level 6 nested within the aforementioned Objectives.

4.5.1 Deus Ex: Mankind Divided: Level 1 Unit (Game)

Within the game-level arc of Mankind Divided, there are four phases as well. In the Setup phase, After the ‘Aug Incident’ united the world against the dangers of human augmentation and his former employer Sarif Industries has been shut down, Adam Jensen joins a SWAT team for Interpol called Task Force 29. As an agent for TF29, Jensen is responsible for investigating threats involving augmented humans. In the Complication phase, Jensen’s rookie Mission in Dubai proves disastrous when the team tries to intercept an arms deal and powerful mercenaries arrive suddenly to steal the goods. Jensen believes that TF29 has been set up. Further evidence arrives when an Augmented rights coalition is blamed for terrorism in Europe. Jensen is determined to prove their innocence and find the master- minds behind these events. During the Development phase In Prague, Jensen becomes aware of an augmented villain, Marchenko, who seems to be closely involved in the recent bombings. As soon as Jensen gets close, Marchenko escapes, leading Jensen on a wild goose chase across Europe. In the Resolution phase, The final showdown takes place at a conference in London attended by a group of legislators partial to the augmented cause. Marchenko holds them hostage while threatening to destroy half the city with explosives. Jensen has to rescue the politicians before facing Marchenko. In a bloody battle, Jensen finally defeats Marchenko. The next day, the thankful delegates vote to uphold augmented rights in Europe.

4.5.2 Deus Ex: Mankind Divided: Level 2 Unit (City)

In Mankind Divided, much as in Human Revolution, there are several cities (Dubai, Prague, Golem City, Alps, London) that make up the major divisions of the game. These divisions are roughly equivalent to game levels. Prague is visited three times during the game, though this order is not up for choice by the player. Each city is played consecutively, following the plan of the designers. Here I will discuss the story arc in the second city of the game, Prague. In the Setup portion of this city, Jensen checks in with the new headquarters in Prague. He investigates a recent bombing in a transit area, and also meets a contact belonging to a hacker group investigating police brutality. In the Complication phase of this city unit, Jensen learns that

106 his boss, Miller, is complicit in false accusations blaming the Augmented Rights Coalition for the recent bombing. During the Development phase of this city unit, Jensen investigates records on the TF29 database to learn more about the conspiracy that Miller seems to be involved in. Jensen also sneaks into Miller’s apartment to gather more clues. Finally, during the Conclusion phase of the city unit, Miller assigns Jensen to apprehend the leader of the ARC group for further questioning about the attacks. Though Jensen doubts Miller’s motivations, he wants to talk with the ARC leader in person to make up his own mind.

4.5.3 Deus Ex: Mankind Divided: Level 3 Unit (Chapter)

In Chapter 4 of the plot of Mankind Divided, entitled “Conflicts of Interest,” a full arc plays out in the following way: In the Setup portion, Jensen meets Smiley Fletcher, the forensics specialist for TF29. Smiley wants Jensen to find a data disk at the scene of the bombing, which will reveal the true identity of the terrorists involved in the attack. The Complication arises when Jensen learns that the crime scene is now being guarded by the local police force. No one is permitted entry. During the Development of this chapter, Jensen goes stealthily to the station and finds a secret entrance through an air duct. This Deposits him in the heavily guarded Main Hall of the station. Hiding behind debris and upturned tables, Jensen makes his way to the former office, where the files are kept. Finally, the Resolution occurs when once inside the unguarded office, Jensen grabs the disk from a table. After silently retracing his steps, he returns to TF29 headquarters with the information, which must be subsequently decrypted.

4.5.4 Deus Ex: Mankind Divided: Level 4 Unit (Mission)

At the next level down, the fifth Mission of the game, “Claiming Jurisdiction” is of interest. In the Setup, the Mission begins with a briefing in Director Miller’s office. Jensen is ordered to travel to Ruzicka and investigate. On his way, he needs to get intel from Smiley Fletcher. The Complication occurs when Jensen arrives at Ruzicka and the police have barred the doors and heavily armed sentries are inside the station. In the Development, Jensen stealthily uses some tunnels to bypass the guards at the entrance. He reaches the abandoned office in the station and searches it. Finally in the Resolution, Jensen finds the data drive under a table and acquires it.

4.5.5 Deus Ex: Mankind Divided: Level 5 Unit (Objective)

The Level 5 unit in Mankind Divided is the Objective. Primary Objectives are the ones that contribute to the major story arc. In Figure 4.7 the interface screen can be seen for the “Retrieve the Evidence” Objective. The Setup for this objective begins when Jensen arrives at the platform near Ruzicka Station. He speaks with Smiley Fletcher to get more details

107 Figure 4.7: Objectives within Mission 5 in the 2016 game Mankind Divided. The green text with a checkmark above left indicates that the objective has been completed. about what he needs to do. The Complication presents itself after Smiley tells Jensen to go past the turnstiles in the station to find the tourist office, Jensen is stopped by guards claiming that the station is closed. He cannot get in. The Development progresses as Jensen stealthily hides behind counters and locates an air duct that takes him closer to his destination undetected. More armed guards are inside, but while they are looking the other way, Jensen sneaks by them. Finding the tourist office at last, the Resolution is reached when Jensen searches the detritus until locating the data drive that Smiley described.

4.5.6 Deus Ex: Mankind Divided: Level 6 Unit (Micronarrative)

During this Mission, one particular micronarrative occurred while I was playing. While attempting to reach the room where the data drive is located, heavily armed guards try to stop Jensen. For the Setup, after sneaking through an air duct, Jensen finds himself in a large open area filled with rubble. The Complication appears when a heavily armed guard has spotted Jensen. During the Development, Jensen ducks behind a crate, but the other guards have been alerted and draw in closer. The Resolution arrives abruptly when an unseen guard shoots Jensen from behind and he falls to the ground. This ended the game and I had to attempt the maneuver again. In my subsequent play of this scene, I was able to evade the guards more successfully and continue the game.

108 4.5.7 Deus Ex: Mankind Divided: Summary

Showing the same pattern as Human Revolution, Mankind Divided contains units at six different levels of granularity. Level 1 is the arc of the full game. Level 2 is the City. Level 3 is the Chapter. Level 4 is the Mission. Level 5 is the Objective and at Level 6 is the micronarrative. In Mankind Divided, the Mission structure is one of the primary ways that the story is divided into narrative units. This helps to illustrate its Modular quality. Mankind Divided has both main Missions and optional Side Missions. Each Mission is a relatively self-contained story, with an arc of its own, and at the same time forms an integral part of the larger story arc of the entire game. The Mission is a self-contained unit that demonstrates modularity. The Missions are nested within the Chapter units. Objectives are nested neatly within the Missions. Micronarratives appear within the Objectives.

4.6 Narrative Units in Deus Ex

This game was the first to be released, but the events depicted take place in a future society of the 2040s. Unlike the two newest prequels (Human Revolution and Mankind Divided) the Chapter as a narrative unit is not present in this game. Viewing Figure 4.8, the game itself is represented as the Level 1 Unit, with the City as the Level 2 Unit, followed by the Goal (Level 3), and Micronarrative (Level 4).

Level 1 Deus Ex Full Game

Level 2 NYC_1 Hong Kong NYC_2 Paris New West Coast Area 51

Level 3 G G G Goal G G G G G G G G Goal G G G G G G G G G Goal G G G G G G G

m m m m m m m m m m m m m mn m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m Level 4 n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n

Figure 4.8: This diagram illustrates the narrative structure of the game Deus Ex in terms of the divisible units.

4.6.1 Deus Ex: Level 1 Unit (Game)

Looking at the Deus Ex game as a whole, the following plot is visible: In the Setup, the player protagonist J. C. Denton is a rookie on his first assignment, investigating terrorist activity for UNATCO near the Statue of Liberty. His brother Paul, a veteran agent, instructs Denton to interrogate rather than terminate the insurgents. In the Complication phase, Denton learns that Paul’s reluctance to kill stems from his sympathy with the rebels, who have actually been framed by corrupt UNATCO officials. To save his brother, Denton must gather evidence to prove UNATCO’s wrongdoing and secure the antidote to a deadly virus that is destabilizing civilization. In the Development phase, through a series of challenges

109 that take him from New York to Paris to Hong Kong, Denton discovers the depths of Bob Page’s corruptive influence on the organizations that he once trusted. Denton must now defeat his former colleagues who defend the status quo in UNATCO. Denton’s efforts are brought to a climax when Bob Page threatens to take over the world by uploading his consciousness into Daedalus, a military-grade AI. In the Resolution phase, Depending on his actions in the endgame, Denton may resolve his struggle to save humankind in one of three ways:

• Denton can choose to acquiesce to the Illuminati, siding with Everett, destroying He- lios and Bob Page so the secret society can rule unopposed. • Denton can choose to merge electronically with the Helios AI superbeing (Icarus/Daedalus- >Helios) and supplant the villain Page, taking the role of an omniscient and benign guardian of civilization. • Or, Denton can choose to join Tracer Tong to melt down Area 51, destroying Page and Helios, instigating a new dark age without technology.

4.6.2 Deus Ex: Level 2 Unit (City)

In Deus Ex, the early gameplay in New York City functions as a kind of hub. In NYC_1, the following events transpire: In the Setup portion, J. C. Denton is recruited by UNATCO to join his brother Paul in the investigation of a hostage situation at the Statue of Liberty. He also needs to recover a shipment of the highly valuable Ambrosia vaccine which is the only treatment for a plague that ravages the populace. During the Complication portion, After rescuing hostages in several locations and defusing the situation with the terrorist leader in the Statue of Liberty, Denton learns that his brother is complicit with the terrorists. Paul asks Denton to trust him and to investigate corruption in UNATCO, who are hoarding the vaccine instead of helping the people. In the Development portion, Denton speaks with another (Northwest Secessionist Forces) NSF leader in a hidden airplane hangar. Though he is ordered to kill Juan Lebedev, Denton instead listens to his explanation of secrets in the Denton family and how they tie in with a larger UNATCO conspiracy. Anna busts in to interrupt the conversation and kills Lebedev herself. Now Paul is hunted by UNATCO and Denton must try to save him. Both are captured and put into a secret underground prison run by Majestic 12. In the Conclusion portion, A mysterious benefactor named Daedalus helps Denton to escape from his cell. Denton must kill Anna to make it out of UNATCO HQ alive. He is now an enemy of UNATCO, but has many allies still inside. Jock the helicopter pilot meets Denton on the rooftop to transport him to Hong Kong for the next phase of the story.

110 Figure 4.9: Primary and Secondary Goals are visible in the interface of the Deus Ex game released in 2000.

4.6.3 Deus Ex: Level 3 Unit (Goal)

As you can see in Figure 4.9, the interface for the game includes a heads-up display that shows the current primary and secondary goals. In the Setup for this Goal, Denton is called to Manderley’s office for a meeting. He is told that his brother Paul is a traitor and that Denton must do the job that Paul refused to do: kill the rebel instigator, Juan Lebedev. The Complication occurs when he finally meets Lebedev. The would-be victim surrenders and reminds Denton that agency policy prohibits killing unarmed prisoners. Lebedev wants to talk instead. Denton has a conundrum: Listen to the rebel, or follow orders? During the Development, as Denton continues questioning Lebedev, Denton’s colleague, Anna Navarre, rushes into the room and accuses Denton of disobeying orders. The arc’s Resolution occurs when Navarre shoots Lebedev just before he finishes telling Denton of the conspiracy concerning his origins. Navarre reprimands Denton and sends him on his way back to UNATCO.

4.6.4 Deus Ex: Level 4 Unit (Micronarrative)

In the Setup of the micronarrative on the airplane, with instructions to kill on sight, Denton finds his way into the room where Lebedev is hiding in the airplane. He confronts Lebedev. The Complication occurs when Lebedev immediately surrenders, invoking UNATCO policy. During the Development, Denton continues questioning Lebedev, choosing not to kill him, and listening instead. Lebedev begins to reveal some secrets about Denton’s birth.

111 The Resolution occurs when Navarre enters the room and shoots Lebedev, reprimanding Denton for neglecting his duties.

4.6.5 Deus Ex: Summary

To summarize, the full game of Deus Ex takes place at Level 1, while the City unit is Level 2. The Goal is a Level 3 unit, and the Micronarrative is Level 4. In Deus Ex, the mission structure (referred to as Goals in the interface) is one of the main ways that the story is divided into narrative units. This helps to illustrate its Modular quality. In the entirety of the game, Deus Ex has dozens of Goals situated within each City. Each Goal is a relatively self-contained story, with an arc of its own, and at the same time forms an integral part of the larger story arc of the entire game. The Goal is a self-contained unit that demonstrates modularity.

4.7 Narrative Units in Deus Ex: Invisible War

Invisible War (released 2003) was the second game in the Deus Ex series. The game exhibited slightly more constrained choices in a still-flexible story arc. This iteration takes place in the distant future of a fictional 2070s, nearly thirty years after those depicted in the first game. Invisible War provides some interim resolution to the themes previously discussed in the series.

Level 1 Invisible War Full Game

Level 2 Seattle Cairo_1 Triers Cairo_2 Antarctica NYC

Level 3 G G G Goal G G G G G G G G Goal G G G G G G G G G Goal G G G G G G G

m m m m m m m m m m m m mn m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m mn m Level 4 n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n n

Figure 4.10: This diagram illustrates the narrative structure of the 2003 game Invisible War, showing the levels of narrative arcs in their relative positions.

Of the four games in the series, this one seems to have the loosest structure in terms of units that are communicated to the player. The Goals do not appear explicitly in a hierarchy with subgoals. There are some Secondary goals, which are optional. As Figure 4.10 demonstrates, the Game itself is on Level 1, with the city hubs in the position of Level 2. Goals make up the units in Level 3, with Micronarratives nested within those units at Level 4.

112 4.7.1 Deus Ex: Invisible War: Level 1 Unit (Game)

In the Invisible War game itself as a narrative unit, the Setup phase introduces Alex D., a nano-augmented cadet at Tarsus Academy, who is training for a lucrative career as a mercenary. He has recently been relocated to Seattle from Chicago due to a terrorist attack. In the Complication phase, the Seattle school is attacked by religious zealots, and Alex learns that he has been the subject of secretive experiments and must escape the Academy. He is plunged into a tangled web of conspiracies which shake the foundations of his worldview. During the Development phase, Alex investigates the factions that are vying for control of the world. Along the way, he finds the secret location of a dormant J. C. Denton, long rumored to be dead. In the Resolution phase, Alex works with Denton to restore world order, thwarting the designs of the Illuminati, Templars and the WTO.

4.7.2 Deus Ex: Invisible War: Level 2 Unit (City)

In the Setup of the Liberty Island City Unit, Alex is deposited on the island by his preferred pilot. Here Alex will choose once and for all what side he is on. The Complication arises when Alex must confront fierce armed enemies in various locations on the island who want to terminate Alex with extreme prejudice. During the Development, Alex travels to several buildings on the island and battles enemies to the death. In the Resolution, Alex chooses to upload the Aquinas spec to JC Denton. Humanity is united through the Helios AI.

4.7.3 Deus Ex: Invisible War: Level 3 Unit (Goal)

At Level 3 in the narrative arc hierarchy in Invisible War, the Goal serves as the unit for the narrative arc. In 4.11 the rounded interface of the goal screen that is part of the heads-up display can be seen during gameplay in Invisible War. During the Setup of the “ApostleCorp Great Advance” Goal, Alex arrives at UNATCO HQ with the intent to locate the Aquinas Spec on behalf of the Dentons. The Complication occurs when Alex’s path is hindered by robots and mercenaries out for blood. During the Development, Alex makes his way to the office of the former UNATCO Tech Specialist, where the needed disk is located. In the Resolu- tion, Alex uses the disk to upload the Aquinas spec to his allies, and then must battle all remaining adversaries in a final boss fight.

4.7.4 Deus Ex: Invisible War: Level 4 Unit (Micronarrative)

In the Setup of the Micronarrative within the “Great Advance” Goal, Alex arrives at UNATCO HQ to search for the disk containing the Aquinas Spec. In the Complication, Alex encounters a deadly Templar Paladin in the dark basement of the building. In the Development,

113 Figure 4.11: The Heads Up Display shows the current Goal in the Invisible War sequel released in 2003. before the Paladin becomes aware of his presence, Alex uses his spy drone to sneak up behind the heavily armored guard. In the Resolution, Alex’s drone disables the electronics in the Paladin’s armored suit, and Alex is free to continue exploring the building.

4.7.5 Deus Ex: Invisible War: Summary

In summary, the pattern in this game matches that of Deus Ex with the full narrative experience of Invisible War as Level 1, while the City unit is Level 2. The Goal is Level 3, and the Micronarrative is Level 4. In Invisible War, the Mission (Goals) structure is one of the primary ways that the story is divided into narrative units. This helps to illustrate its Modular quality. Invisible War has dozens of missions (Goals) during the course of the game. Each Goal represents a relatively self-contained story, with an arc of its own. At the same time, each Goal forms an integral part of the larger story arc of the entire game. Thus, the Goal is a self-contained unit that demonstrates modularity.

4.8 Summary of Deus Ex Games

The games in the Deus Ex series provide a rich tapestry of nested story arcs. In Table 4.2, the relationship in time and in structure between the games in the Deus Ex series can be more clearly seen. Human Revolution was the first game to be released that departed somewhat from the pattern of nested arcs seen in Deus Ex and Invisible

114 Table 4.2: Narrative units in the Deus Ex franchise, ordered in decreasing scale from top to bottom.

Release Human Mankind Deus Ex Invisible War Order Revolution Divided (3rd, 2011) (4th, 2016) (1st, 2000) (2nd, 2003) Fictional Detroit, Prague, late NYC, mid-2040s Seattle, Setting mid-2020s 2020s mid-2070s Level 0 Entire franchise as one overarching unit Level 1 Full Game Full Game Full Game Full Game Level 2 City City City City Level 3 Chapter Chapter Goal Goal Level 4 Mission Mission ”Micronarrative” ”Micronarrative” Level 5 Objective Objective Level6 ”Micronarrative” ”Micronarrative”

War. There had been an 8 year gap between the release date of Invisible War and Human Revolution. In this time, player expectations as well as hardware rendering technology had changed. Players had a more sophisticated array of games to choose from in 2011 and competition had increased in the genre, pushing a demand for more complexity in storytelling. By grouping sections of the story into Chapters, the new team of designers tasked with creating Human Revolution chose to foreground the narrative aspects of the game more prominently. The most recent addition in the Deus Ex series, Mankind Divided, also makes use of Chapters. Human Revolution differs structurally from its predecessors because the medium evolved over time, and continues to do so.

4.9 Summary of Games in the Study

In answer to my research question, “How does the design of narrative units in single- player action video games function in the experience of a coherent story?” I can confirm that narrative units have 3 important characteristics that function in support of a coherent story experience: Narrative units are modular (narrative arcs of different sizes can be seen as self-contained units), the narrative modules have a hierarchy (smaller units are nested within larger ones, maintaining relationships with elements that coincide), and the narrative modules are cumulative (narrative knowledge builds up incrementally during gameplay). In this chapter, I have presented the evidence that serves as the foundation for my analysis. In the Discussion chapter to follow, I will explain the factors involved in interpreting the evidence and present my conclusions based on what I have found.

115 5 | Discussion

In the Introduction to this thesis I demonstrated that researchers had not yet resolved the issue of how to combine narrative with games in a satisfying way. In the previous chapters, I have established the need for better understanding the ways in which story structures operate in interactive narrative. Research on this project began in pursuit of answers to this question: “How does the design of narrative units in single-player action video games function in the experience of a coherent story?” To learn more, I designed a research project in which I examined six AAA commercial games, focusing primarily on single-player action and action-adventure games. This genre was chosen because action games in particular are underrepresented in narratological studies. By comparing the structures found among games from wide-ranging areas in the continuum of pre-authored storytelling, I be- lieved that the salient differences in narrative units might be more easily revealed. The goal of my research was to better understand how narrative plots in games are currently structured, and what principles might relate to their effective organization – this is also the goal of poetics of a medium in general. The close readings of the game artifacts in the previous chapter have shown that narrative structures exist at many levels in the games that I have examined. Chapter 4 of this thesis demonstrated the ways that narrative modules were instantiated in the six games that were part of the study. In the current chapter, I will next discuss and interpret the meaning of what was found. I will discuss some of the issues relevant to analyzing the narrative units. I will also put these findings into perspective and relate them back into the discourse about narrative in games. In this chapter, I will demonstrate the benefits gained from an analysis of units of diverse sizes in the structure of a video game. First, I will briefly review the key findings from the research study. This includes a brief review and deeper analysis of the lessons from the artifacts under examination. These findings will then be discussed in relation to the literature.

5.1 Review of Key Results

The games, in chronological order of my investigation were:

116 • NHL 12 (EA Sports, 2011); • Deus Ex: Human Revolution (Eidos Montreal, 2011); • Middle Earth: Shadow of Mordor (Monolith Productions, 2014); • Deus Ex (Ion Storm, 2000); • Deus Ex: Mankind Divided (Eidos Montreal, 2016); and • Deus Ex: Invisible War (Ion Storm, 2003).

The order in which I played the games initially was idiosyncratic. I began with NHL 12 in part because I saw its simplicity and directness as an opportunity to test the utility of my analytical lenses as research tools. The video game is modeled carefully upon the experience of watching a televised hockey match, with established rules and the performance of ath- letic skill. For the Deus Ex series, the ideal order for playing the games might be called into question. I started with Human Revolution because that was readily available in stores at the time of my initial planning. The older games (Deus Ex (2000) and Invisible War (2003)) were more challenging for me to play simply because I had an XBox but not a compatible PC. Mankind Divided was released while I was still working on the initial games that I had planned and I felt that I might be missing interesting pieces of the story arc if I left it out. In retrospect, it seems that there might be two ideal sequences for play: perhaps the best way would be to follow the timeline of events in the storyworld. This is the way that I have organized the descriptions of the games that I have played. A second approach might be to play the games in order of their release. This has a natural flow in the sense of the story deepening by increments along with improvements in its graphical representation over the 16-year span of the franchise. Because the original game in 2000 was followed by a sequel portraying a chronologically later event, and that sequel presupposes some familiarity with the conflicts that previously transpired, that ordering makes sense. To complicate matters, the series continued in 2011 with Human Revolution serving as a prequel, its own events in the chronology preceding those of the original Deus Ex game by about twenty years in the fictional timeline. Then, Mankind Divided arrived as a direct sequel to Human Revolution, continuing the story of the protagonist, Adam Jensen, with new events only a year later in the fictional timeline. This research was done using close reading as the primary method of investigation. I played the games and took notes after the sessions. I recorded the gameplay footage as video files for subsequent review in detail as needed. I made screenshots from those recordings to document particular key moments in the stories. I recorded my observations about plot arcs in a horizontal outline format (gingkoapp.com) to better visualize the relationships of the story modules to one another. Using Tinderbox software, I experimented with building my own knowledge base of the hierarchies in the Deus Ex franchise. Starting with the plot arcs in my horizontal outline as data for analysis, I compared the structures at different levels of the hierarchy. In the following subsections, I will summarize the results broadly found in each of the games that were examined.

117 5.1.1 Results: NHL 12

The NHL 12 (EA Sports, 2011) hockey game made the simplest model of the narrative arc hierarchy in practice. In this 3rd-person sports simulation, there were four distinct levels of units in the game. The largest narrative unit consisted of a single hockey match itself (Level 1), a narrative arc that spanned the entirety of the game session. The units at the next level of size were the hockey game periods (Level 2). Next largest in size were the narrative arcs formed by the orchestrated plays (Level 3) made by each team in pursuit of a goal. Finally encounters or “micronarratives”1 (Level 4), were the smallest narrative units in this game.

5.1.2 Results: Shadow of Mordor

Middle Earth: Shadow of Mordor (Monolith Productions, 2014) also displayed a straightforward arrangement of narrative arcs. This 3rd-person action-adventure game contained one full game arc (Level 1), followed by Missions (Level 2) as the largest subunits. The next largest units were the Objectives at (Level 3). Finally, I have labeled the smaller narrative units within Objectives as “micronarratives”.

5.1.3 Results: Human Revolution

Deus Ex: Human Revolution (Eidos Montreal, 2011) is the game with the earliest story events in the Deus Ex franchise. In the 1st-person (with moments of 3rd person in stealth mode) play of action shooter Human Revolution, the full game itself has a story arc (Level 1), with the City (Level 2) as the next largest narrative unit, followed by Chapters (Level 3). Within Chapters, there were Missions (Level 4) and Objectives (Level 5) as discrete units. Finally, at the most granular level, micronarratives (Level 6) formed the smallest units. Chapters are a narrative unit unique to Human Revolution and Mankind Divided, a point that I will return to later in the discussion.

5.1.4 Results: Mankind Divided

Deus Ex: Mankind Divided (Eidos Montreal, 2016) is the game in the Deus Ex franchise which followed Human Revolution in actual release dates as well as storyworld chronology. In the 1st/3rd person action shooter Mankind Divided, the structure closely resembled that of its predecessor Human Revolution, a full game arc (Level 1), and Cities (Level 2), Chapters (Level 3), Missions (Level 4), Objectives (Level 5) and micronarratives (Level 6) comprising the units from largest to smallest.

1Micronarrative is not a term inherent to the game’s interface, but is one that I have chosen to use based on its utility in describing smaller narrative units.

118 5.1.5 Results: Deus Ex

Deus Ex (Ion Storm, 2000) was the original game which started the Deus Ex series. In this first-person shooter action game, the narrative units again contain four levels of hierarchy. The largest arc of course is the full game itself (Level 1), followed by Cities (Level 2), Goals (Level 3), and micronarratives (Level 4) as the major segments from largest to smallest.2

5.1.6 Results: Invisible War

Deus Ex: Invisible War (Ion Storm, 2003) is the game in the series that presents events occurring farthest in the future of the storyworld. For the first-person shooter action game Invisible War, the units that I found were the arc of the game itself (Level 1), Cities (Level 2), Goals (Level 3), and micronarratives (Level 4).

5.1.7 Summary of Game Results

To briefly summarize the structures with the Deus Ex series, it can be seen that there are two basic formats. In short, the newer games (Human Revolution and Mankind Divided) shared the same basic structure of 6 levels, while the two older games (Deus Ex and Invisible War) had the same pattern of 4 levels. Comparing Deus Ex games to the other games in the study, it can be seen that the largest constituent units in the Deus Ex franchise were consistently the City units, while Shadow of Mordor’s story units centered on the Missions at the highest level. In NHL 12, the game periods were the largest units and essentially were time-based containers for the continuously changing dynamics of fully emergent gameplay.

5.2 Discussion of Findings

By examining these games through the lens of the narrative arc, in particular in the form as described by Thompson (1999), several findings about the nature of narrative have become apparent. It can be demonstrated that the narrative units in games are modular, hierarchical and cumulative.3 These units combine ludic and narrative experience in a system of rewards for the interactor. Micronarrative units tend to offer the greatest agency to the player in terms of narrative outcomes at a granular level.

2Between Cities and Goals in the first Deus Ex game, it could be argued that an intermediary module exists. based on subsections of cities. However, this is not emphasized by the game interface in the same way that explicit goals are. Some of the individual regions or buildings within cities do have arcs of their own. However this was not consistent enough to convince me to include it as a constituent unit.

3Also in some cases, commutative, by which I mean that these units, like operands in a multiplication problem, may be swapped in order of presentation without altering the value of the final product.

119 Under dissection, the narrative units in the action games revealed unique characteristics. The narrative units exhibited traits of Modularity, Hierarchy and Cumulativity. I found evidence that confirms earlier work in my research lab (Bizzocchi et al., 2013) concerning the potential of these characteristics in video games. By applying these concepts to a larger body of game examples, the functionality of these traits are rendered in better focus. Also, the characteristics of the selected games reflect varying combinations of embedded and emergent properties. In the sections below, I will explain the insights derived from the particulars of how these characteristics manifested in the games. To briefly review how the concept of Modularity is applied in my study, I will give some examples. The overall game story can be seen as a series of discrete narrative units with modular characteristics. What I mean by this is that the modules stand alone but also are integral to building larger structures. For Hierarchy, the major characteristic is that smaller units are nested within larger ones. Smaller narrative units can be grouped together to form a larger unit, which itself may also contribute to a narrative unit that is larger still. One way to see Cumulativity is to say that narrative knowledge accumulates. Modules can simply add together to build the story as it unfolds. Occasionally, there is also a commutative property – in parts of the game, the order of the narrative modules can be transposed without damag- ing the larger narrative arc. For the player, this experience is necessarily retrospective. By retrospective, I mean that the plot builds as it is uncovered by the player who experiences an ongoing process of forming new explanatory mental models. The act of reading is a continuous engagement with interpretation and formulating what the consequences of actions might be. Likewise, during gameplay in a story-focused game, the player is interested in the possibilities and consequences of their actions. Another aspect I will be investigating is how the qualities of embedded and emergent narrative are exhibited in the structures that I have examined. In Rules of Play, Salen and Zimmerman suggest using two general criteria for categorizing the narrative components of a game: “Players can experience a game narrative as a crafted story interactively told” or they can “engage with narrative as an emergent experience that happens while the game is played” (Salen & Zimmerman, 2004, p. 383). They credit a Game Developers Confer- ence talk given by Marc LeBlanc in 1999 for the origination of the terms “embedded” and “emergent” in the context of storytelling. Embedded narrative is crafted in advance by game designers and experienced by the interactor along the way. Salen and Zimmerman clarify that “Embedded elements are narrative structures directly authored by game designers that serve as a frame for interaction. Emergent narrative approaches emphasize the ways that players interact with a game system to produce a narrative experience unique to each player” (2004, p. 384). They contrast the early narrative adventure game The Secret of Mon- key Island with the later game The Sims. Monkey Island epitomizes the use of embedded narrative that has been carefully pre-constructed by the designers. This differs greatly from the Sims, which is a classic example of emergent narrative, which illustrates the way that a

120 system of rules allows gameplay to unfold in a less-foreseen way with iterative variations. Salen and Zimmerman note that other designers have characterized adventure games with their “fixed settings and puzzles” and a proclivity for “embedded narrative content that a player unlocks piece by piece over time” (2004, p.385). Salen and Zimmerman write in the case of their example game, Jak and Daxter, that “The embedded narrative also provides the major story arc for the game, structuring a player’s interaction and movement through the game world in a meaningful way” (2004, p. 383). In contrast, emergent narrative arises from the complex system of rules being enacted in the game during player interaction. Salen and Zimmerman write that “Most moment-to-moment narrative play in a game is emergent, as player choice leads to unpredictable narrative experiences” (2004, p. 384). This plays out most strongly at the micronarrative level of these games.

5.2.1 Narrative Exists in the Form of Modules

In each of the games, modules were isolated based on the classic narrative arc as explained by Kristin Thompson in her book Storytelling in the New Hollywood (1999). Specifically, I used a lens based on a modified version of her arc pattern of Setup, Complication, Develop- ment and Resolution to help distinguish where arcs occurred. By looking at the boundaries that circumscribed the instances of this arc pattern, I noticed narrative modules of many different sizes. These modules were pervasive throughout the games. In addition, narrative modules occurred at different scales within each game. For all of the games, the largest major arc formed the spine of the story that spanned from booting the game to the moment of completion (Level 1). In each of the games, the modular pattern of Setup, Complication, Development and Resolution could be seen at the level of the narrative arc of the entire game.

Level 1 Module in NHL: The Hockey Match

In NHL 12, the story centers on the competition between two opposing teams. Through skill and chance, the athletes enact a series of orchestrated efforts that culminate in a win or a loss for the team. This story is the most emergent among all the games in my study; the outcome and the details of how success is achieved depend almost completely on the moment-by-moment relationship between the game’s AI and the gameplay decisions made by the interactor. Because of the structural design of this game, the interactor works in tandem with the game mechanics to craft a narrative of goals scored, missed shots and saves unfolding in the moments of play. The larger story is built entirely on those choices and consequences; here the micronarratives in aggregate determine the final score.

121 Level 1 Module in Shadow of Mordor: The Game Arc

Moving toward a more embedded approach to interactive story, Shadow of Mordor borrows some of sport’s bracketed design and combines it with a quest-based overall structure. The emergent properties are focused on the designed “nemesis system,” which imitates the con- tests between teams in a sports tournament bracket. When the interactor is engaged in a confrontation with one of the ranking enemies, the outcome of that contest eliminates con- tenders and advances winners in much the same way as a sports tournament proceeds. In synchrony with this system, the narrative crafted by the developers forms a pre-determined story arc of heroism for the interactor to experience and contribute to the smallest arcs through encounters as micronarratives.

Level 1 Module in Deus Ex: The Game Arc

At the end of the day, the Deus Ex series, like many games of its kind, does rely upon a pre-determined story arc that guides the player through the narrative from the opening tutorial level to the final boss fights. There are varying degrees of agency in this larger arc for the interactor. For example, each of the Deus Ex games provides a choice at the end of the game that determines the epilogue – was the earth saved from the AI menace, or do the secret societies succeed in realizing a vision of human civilization that serves their own interests at the expense of individual liberty? These choices are enacted through performing the particular task requested by the faction (usually one of 4) that the interactor finds most compelling. In the original Deus Ex game, the moral choices were more heavy- handed but carried significance; it seemed more clear which outcome would be desirable for society. In the second-released game Invisible War, (which happens to depict events in the most distant future timeline), the choices for the player were more arbitrary. The heroes of the previous game were cast in a darker light, and the protagonist character had a more mercenary quality. Thus the final choice of factions felt less significant and satisfying in a “you alone can save the world” sense. The Deus Ex franchise has historically offered a significant sense of agency to the player in the enactment of a designed story arc. However, the greatest latitude in story direction occurs for the player at the micronarrative level.

Level 2 Module in NHL: The Hockey Periods

In each of the games in my study, the pattern of Setup, Complication, Development and Resolution is found once more at the level of the major subdivisions within the spine of the story. Each game has its own version of chunking the game into smaller portions. In NHL 12, this conforms with the way that we see it on television broadcasts of hockey games – the hockey periods form the largest narrative sub-unit (Level 2). We know that a hockey match consists of three periods, and EA’s simulation of course matches that expectation.

122 In the video game, the real-time enactment of the period is set by default to five minutes, in contrast to the twenty-minute period familiar to hockey fans. This could be seen as a dramatic compression of time, which provides a sample experience that is representative of a larger time unit in the physical game of hockey. On the surface this seems to be commer- cially driven, a concession that speaks to the entertainment demands of the medium. A play session with the video game can be completed in about twenty minutes – a full simulated hockey match in the time it takes to watch one period on TV!

Level 2 Module in Shadow of Mordor: The Mission

Shadow of Mordor used a quest structure to group its major narrative units. Though travers- ing the ‘provinces’ of Mordor is required to advance the story, progression through the game’s narrative arc is combat-driven. The main unit for doing this is the Mission (Level 2). The interactor does have some choice in the sequence of Missions to complete. The beginning of the game presents two Missions: “The Slaver” and “The Spirit of Mordor.” By choosing one or the other, a new set of subsequent Missions appear on the map. The set of Missions that are unlocked when the player initiates “The Slaver” are related to learning about the storyworld and orienting the player to the combat system. The flexibility of the mission structure is recognized in Rules of Play where Salen and Zimmerman write, “A common digital game design approach that combines embedded and emergent narrative elements is a mission-based game structure in which the larger narrative frame is pre-generated but most of the moment-to-moment game outcomes are determined through emergent means” (Salen & Zimmerman, 2004, p. 385). The Missions in Shadow of Mordor are tied to locations on the map. To choose a Mission, the interactor must traverse the countryside by walking (thereby encountering enemies by chance) and then triggering an initiating event through some interaction (often a conversation or encounter with a ranking adversary). Because there are 24 Missions, the narrative structure in Shadow of Mordor differs from the second level units in NHL 12 (3 “periods”) and Deus Ex (usually 5- 6 “cities”). At this level, there is greater flexibility in the order of story segments to experience in Shadow of Mordor compared to the other games. I will return to this aspect when I discuss the cumulative nature of the modular design.

Level 2 Module in Deus Ex: The City Unit

In the Deus Ex games, the Level 2 narrative unit was consistently the City unit. Cities are narrative units that behave like levels: each city unit is designed to be played in a predetermined order. In general, each game had one city that was the predominant location for the majority of plot development. In the original Deus Ex, that was New York City. The game starts in Liberty Island and after a jaunt to Hong Kong, returns to New York and later continues in the West coast. In Invisible War, the home city is Seattle with visits to Triers and

123 Cairo. In Human Revolution, the home city is Detroit, and in Mankind Divided, the majority of the story revolves around plot points in a highly detailed exploration of Prague. Each city has a self-contained story arc that contributes plot development to the game’s larger arc.

Level 3 Module in NHL: The Play

The pattern of Setup, Complication, Development and Resolution can be seen in the smaller Level 3 subdivisions of each of the games. In NHL 12, an ongoing ‘play’ in the management of the puck formed the third level of arc that I observed. In the sport of hockey, a ‘play’ can be seen as an informal grouping of team and individual actions that constitute a push towards the opponent’s goal. The arc of a play involves gaining possession of the puck and the actions that ensue to maneuver it into the net to result in a victory. This likewise continues to be true in the simulation adapted in EA’s video game.

Level 3 Module in Shadow of Mordor: Objectives

In Shadow of Mordor, the Level 3 group of narrative units are the Objectives which become available during the steps taken to fulfill a Mission. An Objective has a smaller but still challenging narrative arc that often is one component task among several that together complete the Mission. When the last Objective has been completed, the Mission is generally completed as well.

Level 3 Module in Deus Ex: Human Revolution and Mankind Divided: Chapters

In the Deus Ex series, the Level 3 grouping differs between the older games and the newer games. In the two most recently released games (Human Revolution and Mankind Divided), “Chapters” formed the Level 3 grouping of narrative arcs after the Level 2 “City” units. Chapters are discrete narrative units designed into the experience of the game as textual reminders of progress in the largest story arc. A Chapter begins with the setup of a scenario that presents the protagonist with a moderate level challenge that will require substantial efforts to complete. The chapter ends with the resolution of that goal. Chapters may span across one or more Cities, but they typically are centered on activities within a single City. In Human Revolution, Chapters frequently end with a boss fight. In the sequel Mankind Divided, Chapters were less oriented around a boss and more focused on challenges like escaping a dangerous area, infiltrating a high-security location or having a conversation with a character who is difficult to find.

Level 3 Module in Deus Ex and Invisible War: Goals

In Deus Ex and Invisible War, the “Goal” is the Level 3 narrative grouping. This differs from the newer games of that franchise in two respects: there are no “Chapters” in the design of

124 Deus Ex and Invisible War, and there are also no “Missions” explicitly in the game interface. Instead, the quest structures are designated simply as “Goals” within the interface. In the Deus Ex franchise generally, the quest structure is concerned with a complex challenge or series of obstacles which constitute a smaller but significant advancement of the plot. In Human Revolution and Mankind Divided, this shows up as a “Mission” at Level 3 in my hierarchy, but in Deus Ex and Invisible War, this manifests as a “Goal” at Level 3. Furthermore, it can be seen that this differs slightly from the structure of Shadow of Mordor where the “Mission” was the second level subdivision.

Level 4 Module in most of the games: Micronarratives

Finally, all the games in my study were alike in the incorporation of distinct ‘micronarrative’ units as smaller detectable arcs within the Level 3 Modules. In this case, the application of the term derives from the work of my research lab and not directly from the interface of the games. In all other cases, I use the terminology that the game interface uses to refer to its own modules, which generally is the language shown in the heads up display within the game.

5.2.2 The Narrative Modules Have a Hierarchy

It is apparent that the modules that I have just finished describing are organized within nested structures. Smaller narrative modules are nested within larger ones. The recognizable pattern of Setup, Complication, Development and Resolution is repeated throughout these levels of scale. Hierarchical construction is flexible and functional. In NHL 12, the hockey game period is the largest narrative unit within the game unit. Hockey “plays” enacted by the interactor and the digital athletes she controls constitute the next largest unit. In a given hockey period there can be any number of plays. Sometimes there are a lot, sometimes not as many. Similarly, in Shadow of Mordor, the Mission units constitute the largest (Level 2) narrative units and the Objective units are nested inside of them at Level 3. The Objectives are designed arcs and occur in finite numbers within the objectives. Some Objectives in Shadow of Mordor are optional, adding difficulty to the challenge in exchange for weapon upgrades or collectibles. In the Deus Ex series, the Objectives are nested within Missions in much the same way. In all cases, this nested hierarchical structure allows the narrative to unfold within the dynamics of interactor choice and gameplay.

5.2.3 The Narrative Modules Are Cumulative

For the player, meaning accumulates throughout the duration of play. Cumulativity depends on the fact that we understand the nature of the events in retrospect. We can judge them

125 fully only after they are completed and the consequences have played out. Then we can get a picture of how the pieces fit together, and this is often quite different from our interpretation of what was most relevant while the events were occurring. In NHL 12, the cumulative property is exhibited in a literal sense by the accumulation of scored goals which determine the winner of the hockey match. In the action games, it is narrative knowledge that accumulates as the gameplay progresses through the module hierarchy. Things that are optional are also cumulative. In Shadow of Mordor, there are many available quests that are optional side-quests. They do not play a direct role in the main narrative arc but they do provide a deeper sense of the storyworld. One example of this is the dis- tribution of ‘Ithildin’. When they have been collected from their scattered locations across Mordor, they spell out a short story. This is incidental to the main plot, but the challenges of accessing these tokens and the small reward of lore when they are completed, enhance the experience of the gameplay and add to the overall sense of Tolkien’s storyworld. Likewise, in Deus Ex, collecting ebooks is optional. These provide lore and background about the storyworld, and sometimes accrue experience points that can be converted into ludic advantages. There is a certain pleasure in reading these short texts and feeling a greater sense of the detail of that world, which can heighten narrative immersion. In some cases, cumulativity can also work even when the order of units are interchangeable. This is closest to the “commutative principle” in mathematics, where the operands in a multiplication problem produce the same result regardless of the order in which they appear in the equation. The narrative modules in the video games often are commutative in the same way. This is more common in the modules at the smaller levels in the hierarchy. Sometimes, the order of plot events experienced by the player does not matter. In such cases, these plot events are ‘swappable’. In general, the smaller micronarrative units are more swappable than the larger units. This “swappability” can be seen especially in open-world games where quests can be selected and initiated at nearly any point in the gameplay, such as in Grand Theft Auto, for instance. In some ways, the Deus Ex franchise has a limited measure of “swappability” at the very highest level: the individual games can be played in any order. The four major games in the series can be played individually and enjoyed on their own merits, without having experienced the other games. However, this swappability of limited individual games is compromised when considering the entire arc of the franchise. When considered as a whole, the overall experience is richer and connections and themes become apparent when the games are played in order.

5.2.4 How Modularity Serves Both the Ludic and the Narrative

The Modular aspect of narrative structure in video games contributes to the coherence of the story. This becomes apparent when we note that the narrative modules map directly

126 onto the ludic experience of play. One might generally observe that when a hero is faced with an obstacle to overcome in the game, the situation functions also as a Complication in the narrative arc. For instance, in Shadow of Mordor, when Talion first finds himself in Mordor after awakening in his new wraith-like state, he is immediately confronted with a group of hostile orcs blocking his path. Similarly, in Deus Ex: Human Revolution, when Jensen awakens from his augmentation surgery with newfound powers, he is presented with the challenge of handling a terrorist attack at the manufacturing plant of his company. I observed over the course of playing many games for my study that when there is a new challenge, this might be a clue for locating the Complication of the narrative module itself. Gameplay challenges can certainly arise during the Development phase as well. However, in general, the challenges that occur in the Development phase have been encountered or foreshadowed in the Complication phase. The narrative modules in my study provide both a ludic and a narrative reward. Some of these are intrinsic rewards related to the sense of achievement attained when defeating a difficult boss. At the end of the module, the closure that comes through the success over the enemy is conjoined with the narrative resolution of that story arc. In the game Deus Ex: Human Revolution, very early on, the player is given choices about the type of game that they want to play. One of the first choices to be made is during a scene where Jensen is in a helicopter with his boss on the way to an emergency situation that Jensen must investigate in his role as head of security for the company. The boss asks Jensen what kinds of weapon he would like to use. The choices are lethal or non-lethal, and close-up versus ranged. These choices are at the same time ludic and narrative in their implications. The choice affects the opportunities that will be made available during the ensuing confrontations with the renegades in the plant. Choosing a non-lethal ranged weapon like the tranquilizer gun will make some battles difficult, but will also preserve certain NPCs who will make an appearance later in the game. In essence, this early stage of the game serves as a kind of narrative and ludic “prelude,” a preliminary module that sets the tone for all the interlocking modules to follow thereafter. The ability to choose different fighting styles works alongside the individual choices that form the path through the game. The exploration of one location prior to or instead of another further demonstrates the flexibility that must be designed into the game. Events that can fit into multiple scenarios with interesting consequences are the basic tools in the hands of designers. Writing about a game called Spybotics, Salen and Zimmerman note, “More than just ramping up challenge, these new game elements enlarge the emergent narrative possibilities. As a result, the player’s expanding palette of strategic actions corresponds with an expanding palette of narrative experience,” (Salen & Zimmerman, 2004, p. 386). This leads to thinking about how the rewards scale over time during the game as the player progresses.

127 5.2.5 How Hierarchy Serves Both the Ludic and the Narrative

The Hierarchical aspect of narrative structure in video games contributes to coherence of the story. Looking at the evidence presented so far, it is apparent that narrative modules are themselves arranged in a complex and flexible structure. We can see that the patterning of the narrative arc at the Game level is repeated at each successive level of smaller narrative arcs, from the largest units at level 1, through the smallest micronarratives. For example, in NHL 12, the sport’s periods mark the largest narrative units, each with an arc featuring setup, complication, development and resolution. In the previous chapter, I gave an example of this phenomenon, citing the experience of the interactor changing avatars to be nearest the puck while it is in play. The actions of the athlete on the screen, such as passing and dekeing are repeated many times, while each of these actions move the plot forward in larger and smaller increments. A deke may be part of a play and also simultaneously part of a micronarrative within that play. The actions that a character performs in a game can have a context of the immediate moment and also are positioned within the larger story arc. Defeating a powerful boss gives the player greater rewards in terms both of items that are ‘prizes’ for the accomplishment and in terms of intrinsic satisfaction and often rewarding visuals. In contrast, defeating minions carries less weight and has smaller rewards. In Human Revolution, there are missions, puzzles and obstacles that form the texture of the story as presented. The main story arc in the game involves the investigation of a catastrophic break-in at Jensen’s place of employment, Sarif Industries. This incident has changed the protagonist forever and launches his quest for identity and for revenge. With this larger arc in place, the next level of smaller arcs form around hub locations such as De- troit and Hengsha, where Jensen encounters allies who provide crucial information through missions of investigation and collection. There are larger missions that reveal plot-changing events and side-quests that have consequences for Jensen’s abilities and inventory. At the next level down in size, there are mini-games that involve puzzles and navigating obstacles. Other small arcs involve the exchange of dialogue with key NPCs, building and refining relationships which themselves can influence game mechanics. Ultimately, at a still smaller level of granularity, there are moment-to-moment encounters with hostile enemies or dangerous stealth sequences that have their own brief arcs. In addition, there are countless interactions with the media of the game world: TV broadcasts as the player moves through an empty office, textual clues in digital tablets, newspapers and store signage. The total narrative of the game is revealed and played out within a complex set of narrative units of various sizes nested within each other at several levels. This dynamic and hierarchical organization is designed to reconcile the potentially conflicting imperatives of narrative coherence and interactive flexibility. This flexibility also contributes to a unified structure. Salen and Zimmerman write,

128 Level or mission-based structures in games also provide important narrative goals for players. Completing a level means not only reaching an objective, but also passing through one episode of a larger story. As the player moves through multiple levels, the succession of completed goals creates narrative coherence. Game levels offer players access to specific areas of the narrative world, each level populated by unique events, objects and characters that create a particular narrative tone and texture. (Salen & Zimmerman, 2004, p. 386).

As Salen and Zimmerman note above, there is a sense of coherence that comes from a succession of completed goals. The cause and effect relationships between the events in the games link the smaller narrative arcs to the larger ones. While interactivity and agency on the part of the player have an effect on the development of the story, with the concept of hierarchy in narrative modules, designers have a set of tools that allow for flexible control of that progression. In the higher level modules, the rewards are greater, and the challenges are greater. There is a hierarchy to ludic reward and a hierarchy of narrative payoff that tend to go hand in hand. Each chapter increases the difficulty level that the player must overcome, but at the same time the player’s skills are improving as well. The proper balancing of this incremental acceleration was addressed by Mihalyi Csikszentmihalyi, a psychologist who observed that people would enter into a ‘flow state’ when they were immersed in activities that they thoroughly enjoyed (Csikszentmihalyi, 1990). Csikszentmihalyi’s ideas have been embraced by game studies theorists looking for guiding principles to study immersion in gameplay.

5.2.6 How Cumulativity Serves Both the Ludic and the Narrative

Cumulativity in a directly ludic sense can be seen as the way that points in a sports game accrue over time, or the way collectibles in a game contribute to a character’s power or skills. These can be easily seen in NHL 12 with the accrual of points over the course of a match, or in Shadow of Mordor, where a collected fragment accrues experience points. These collected items also contribute to the game story by marking victories and revealing information about the storyworld. In a more pervasive sense, the module-by-module cumulative effect of ludic success adds to the player’s progress on the way to the final winning state. At the same time, this also advances the player’s understanding of plot progress, character development, and storyworld understanding. Nicole Lazzaro writes about the motivations that game players have when playing their favorite games. A word that she uses to describe the exultation that is felt when a player has defeated an extremely difficult challenge is fiero (Lazzaro, 2004). This is another kind of reward related to behavior and intrinsic motivation. In playing a digital game, the mental map that is being constructed by the player is cumulative. A designer does not know for certain the order in which a player is experiencing the events of the game story, and even if those units are experienced at all. Individual

129 narrative units contribute over time to build up a sense of the storyworld as well as the narrative components that the designers have provided. The design must rely on the human ability to interpret and make sense. It is up to the player to fill in the blanks, to create a continuity that makes sense in their mind. We could say that “Finally, incidents that occur in a story gradually and incrementally create a higher-order meaning in the recipient’s mind. Events do not negate each other, but rather add to one another in a cumulative manner as the game is played and the story builds” (Bizzocchi et al., 2013). In Human Revolution, the cumulative level reveals themes that emerge from Jensen’s interactions with the world, as enacted by the player. Pacifist choices lead to certain rewards in the final plot, while aggressive battles lead in another direction. In the end, the player emerges with a sense of the larger themes designed into the story: trust and betrayal, the social cost of over-reliance on technology, the polarizing effects of economic injustice. Because of the relationships between the narrative units in the game, there is a satisfying narrative effect that arises from the operation of the system as a whole. Again, this was noted by Salen and Zimmerman, where the authors assert that “A game is a narrative system in which the narrative experience of the player arises out of the functioning of the game as a whole. As with other kinds of complex systems, the whole is more than the sum of the parts, as individual elements interact with each other to form global patterns” (Salen & Zimmerman, 2004). A gestalt is perceived by the player as a result of the accruing interactions and experiences.

5.2.7 Ludic Challenge and Narrative Complication

Salen and Zimmerman also cite another game designer, Doug Church, who wrote a 1999 essay on the need for a common language for game designers. Church suggested a number of “formal abstract design tools” to prompt discussion in the industry about the high-level qualities that many games had in common. He also was interested in the ways that story could be told in games. Church writes that “The most obvious uses of story in computer and video games can be found in adventure-game plot lines. In this game category, designers have written the story in advance, and players have it revealed to them through interactions with characters, objects, and the world” (Church, 2006, p. 375). This comment relates most closely to the structures that I found in Shadow of Mordor and the Deus Ex games with their carefully authored embedded storylines. But embedding story through objects is far from the only way that story works in games. Church also addresses the emergent style of story, acknowledging that sports games are also conducive to storytelling, suggesting that in his example game of NBA Live, the story itself is made up of the game events:

Maybe it ends up in overtime for a last-second three-pointer by a star player who hasn’t been hitting his shots; maybe it is a total blowout from the beginning and at the end the user gets to put in the benchwarmers for their moment of glory. In either case, the player’s actions during play created the story. Clearly, the story in basketball is less

130 involved than that of most RPGs, but on the other hand it is a story that is the player’s – not the designer’s – to control. And as franchise and season modes are added to sports games and team rivalries and multi-game struggles begin, story takes on a larger role in such games. (Church, 2006, p. 375)

This is very much akin to the way that story is built into NHL 12 as well. The modules that I have observed in the games of my study exhibit both embedded and emergent qualities. Story is embedded to varying degrees, but all the games have story components that are activated by the emergent nature of the ludic gameplay. Combat is another key element that designers rely upon to combine story and game elements. Church argues that there is a necessary opposition between the ability for the designer to direct “exactly what will happen” and the sense of freedom and control that the player feels. He notes that in adventure games, plot elements are revealed through exploring the storyworld, which does give players some control over pacing. Information and items discovered through these means are in turn influential on combat. Church argues that combat allows the most control for a player because they can make detailed decisions about weapons and tactics, “Thus, players explore the story while combat contains intention and consequence” (2006, p. 376). Church picks out SquareSoft console RPGs as a particularly cogent example of contrasting combat with storytelling, writing that

SquareSoft games are, essentially, storybooks. But to turn the page, you have to win in combat. And to win in combat, you have to use the characters and items that come up in the story. So the consequences of the story, while completely preset and identical for all players, are presented (usually) right after a very intentional combat sequence. The plot forces you to go and fight your former ally, but you are in complete control of the fight itself. (Church, 2006, p. 376).

This is how Church visualizes the compromise between story and gameplay. In this vision, the designers have created a complete story that is exists before any player interaction. The most latitude that the player feels is during combat when the outcome is in their own hands. Winning a battle equates to turning a page in the pre-authored story. In many RPGs, this has historically been the case. In his 2003 book about interactive design, Chris Crawford abhors the use of what he calls “Kill ’em if they stray” and other “obstructionist” techniques that put the player into the position of a Skinner rat in a maze, forced to press the correct button to receive a reward (2003a, pp. 80-81). In Crawford’s opinion, these types of shortcuts are only a fad and do not solve the problem of integrating story and true agency. These are still a small portion of the many ways that gameplay and storytelling can be combined. In the action games that I have investigated, the story arcs do allow some freedom to the player at levels beyond the instances of combat. For example, there is more freedom in spatial exploration in Deus Ex and Shadow of Mordor than in the RPG cited by Church. These two games both incorporate a stealth mode of gameplay that allows the player to avoid numerous confrontations in order to solve spatial puzzles and obtain other rewards and objectives.

131 Church, on the other hand, believes that there is tremendous agency that can be found in sports and fighting games. He writes that

The story in a game of NHL 99 is the scoring, the missed checks or the penalty shot. While this story is somewhat basic, it’s completely owned by the player. Each player makes his or her own decision to go for the win by pulling the goalie, or not. And, most importantly, the decision and resulting action either works or does not, driving the game to a player-driven conclusion. Unlike adventure games, there is no trying to guess what the designer had in mind, no saving and loading the game 20 times until you click on the right object. You go in, you play the game, and it ends. (Church, 2006, p. 377)

This observation can be directly applied to the version of the NHL12 game that I investigated, which still shares these properties, more than a dozen years later. I can agree with Church that sports games do use a more emergent style of gameplay where the player can experience a very direct degree of control of the evolving story. My playthroughs of NHL 12 fit into this category quite well. The challenges that are presented as part of the situation in the sports simulation work as narrative complication in the schema of the narrative arc (setup, complication, development, resolution) that I have been using as a tool for analysis.

5.2.8 Ludic Success and Narrative Resolution

To take the discussion further, there is a definite pattern that can be seen when a challenge has been successfully met. This corresponds to the resolution part of the narrative schema that I have described above. Gameplay and narrative are conjoined and interdependent because of this structuring. When a Mission in Shadow of Mordor is completed, the player feels a sense of satisfaction because of the accomplishment in the storyworld – the lives of the NPCs have been improved by the struggle that the player avatar has undergone. Like- wise, the player is also rewarded in the game with experience points which help to unlock skills and abilities which in turn help the player to continue to meet new challenges. The new challenges are chained together in this same way. Ludic achievement and narrative understanding are the rewards that help to define a satisfying narrative experience at all the levels of the game.

5.2.9 Flow Meets Narrative Arc

Because of the rising level of challenges, the player maintains engagement with the ongoing story. In Csikszentmihalyi’s theories about the flow state (1990), the idea of a dynamic series of challenges is crucial to keeping the focus of the player. If the challenge level is too low, boredom can interfere with the desire to continue playing. If the challenge level is too high, frustration can likewise curtail the play session. Games like Shadow of Mordor and Deus Ex work hard to present an increasing level of challenge as the game progresses, in an effort to maintain that elusive flow state. Again the presentation of challenges tends

132 to coincide with the narrative phase of Complication. The player struggles with combat, puzzles or strategy to navigate the Complication phase, culminating in the climax at the end of the Development phase, and finally coming to closure in the Resolution phase. This is a pattern that repeats on both the smaller and larger scales. In the micronarratives, there are small rewards, both ludic and narrative that coincide during the Resolution phase. Likewise, there are accordingly larger rewards both ludic and narrative that are a part of the Resolution phase in the larger narrative units in the game.

5.3 Implications for Theory and Practice

The results that I have found in my study affirm and consolidate the theoretical models in the scholarly research concerning games and narrative. While some scholars and practitioners have addressed narrative units in linear narratives (Barthes, 1975) (Culler, 1975) (Bremond, 1980) (McKee, 1997), interactive narratives (C. Hargood, 2008) (Mateas & Stern, 2005) and games (Sheldon, 2004), none of these have fully outlined the potential that these units’ modular, hierarchical and cumulative properties provide. The contribution that my research outlines is a framework that can be used in the analysis of narrative in games. Academic researchers continuing to study how narrative manifests in video games can benefit by deconstructing games using this method. Educators explaining narrative structures in games studies classes can use this framework to visually represent the underlying structures in game analysis assignments. Game designers experimenting with new approaches in planning their own titles might benefit from applying this framework in the conceptual phases of their work. In addition, the results of my study show that narrative and interactivity do conjoin. This relates directly to Janet Murray’s theories (1998b) about the active creation of belief. The narrative pleasures that derive from gameplay relate to the achievements that come from the closure in each finished narrative arc joined to the closure of ludic achievement. Salen and Zimmerman write that “The creation of a game narrative is really the creation of a narrative system” (2004, p. 404). They go on to explain that this relies upon the crafting of “a system of parts, simple elements that interrelate to form a complex whole. The meanings that emerge from a system arise out of the individual relationships between elements, as well as the more global patterns that emerge across many sets of smaller relationships” (2004, p. 404). This patterning is exemplified in the relation of the many levels of narrative units in a game. The full story arc of the entire game is supported by the smaller arcs that accumulate, from the brief moments of micronarrative through the larger missions that they ultimately fulfill. The aspiration behind this research is that a metaphorical framework can be articulated that will serve to encourage dialogue between the academic theorists doing research on games and the practitioners who are always advancing the state of the art. In this regard, it

133 is important to acknowledge the benefits of theory and criticism applied to the appreciation of the arts. Humanities scholarship is well positioned to perform a key role in this service. The dialogue between theory and practice can only improve the state of the art.

5.4 Summary of Findings

In answering my research question “How does the design of narrative units in single- player action video games function in the experience of a coherent story?”, I found that modularity, hierarchy and cumulativity combined synergistically to bring gameplay and story closer together. There is a satisfying narrative effect that is the result of these elements working in harmony. For the player, there is an inherent joy that comes from success in the constrained world of the game. This is cultivated by the rules that have been designed to reward completion and advancement. Every challenge has a probability of success and failure. The challenges in games are often seemingly there simply to impede progress. This relates back to Crawford’s disappointment in game designers’ seeming reliance on cheap tactics like”kill ’em if they stray” (2003a, p. 80). Overcoming obstacles involves learning, puzzle solving improving skills and techniques and improving tactics. Players must learn from their own mistakes. As Salen and Zimmerman have noted, competition, struggle and conflict relate to challenge and relate to the rules of the game. Agon is an important concept here. Also, a game can be designed so that the levels of difficulty change over time. Bordwell and Thompson’s (2001) definition of narrative relies upon the criteria of events taking place in time and space. It also relies upon events having a cause and effect relationship. Thompson’s description of the narrative arc that she encountered in a wide range of popular films provides a predictable and recognizable form for storytelling. My thesis uses these definitions, which provides an inherent basis for witnessing coherence in the game stories that I have studied. A story is not satisfying if it is not coherent. Coherence derives from cause and effect. Cause and effect underlies the motivations and challenges of the protagonist characters. There needs to be a reason why the characters do the things that they do. The more that reason is motivated by something that was revealed to the audience about the inner life of the hero, the better. Too often storytellers rely on artificial plot devices like the death of a loved one to be the sole motivation for a character’s actions. The actions need to be rooted in believable motivations that are consistent with the goals and fears of the hero. Modular and hierarchical construction provides a flexible framework for a coherent series of player actions that address both narrative complication and ludic challenge. This design allows gameplay flow to continue and narrative meaning to accumulate in a manner that makes sense to the interactor. Next, in the final chapter, I will review the conclusions gained from this study and its implications.

134 6 | Conclusion

As this thesis draws to a close, I would like to review the elements that have led up to this point. In the previous chapters, I have laid the groundwork for the study with a review of the literature on narrative units in many forms, from folktales, to theatre and film, to video games. I have explained the methods of close reading and hermeneutics that were applied to the corpora of selected titles. The six in-depth analyses of the games NHL 12, Middle Earth: Shadow of Mordor, Deus Ex, Invisible War, Human Revolution and Mankind Divided have demonstrated the use of my narrative arc-based schema in practice. I have placed these games in context of the lessons learned and what that contributes to the field of game studies. Now in this brief concluding chapter, I will reflect upon the research process that was undertaken, its limitations and how the lenses evolved over the course of the study. Next, I will provide recommendations for future research, suggesting ways in which this framework can be expanded to be applied to additional games and digital forms. Finally, I will summarize and conclude the thesis.

6.1 Reflection on the Research Process

Because I selected a narrow genre like the action-adventure game, it may be expected that the results may not be generalizable to many other types of games. The Sports game genre is not typically found in groupings with Action-Adventure. This is perhaps an unusual juxtaposition. Yet I believe that this combination of sample games goes far to illustrate something of the continuum between emergent game designs and embedded ones. The analytical lenses that I have used have advantages and disadvantages. On the positive side, they give focus and specificity to the potentially overwhelming task of examining everything that is happening in a game narrative. A disadvantage is that the lens necessitates overlooking some things that are not in its purview. One of the outcomes of this kind of work is that the analytical framework tends to be modified during the process. Using the three lenses in my reading, I did not identify any glar- ing holes in the framework. But there was a development in my understanding of what the three lenses stand for. They have more detail, more granularity now. This can be construed

135 as a higher level research outcome. The refined resulting framework is a tool to apply to my own future work and that of other game scholars as well. That the framework arises from the specifics of a selected group of games but has application beyond those individual examples is an important contribution. For some scholars and practitioners, the contribution is indeed within the practical details applied to the Deus Ex franchise. For others, however, I hope that I may offer the framework as a tool with broader utility in the analysis of games and narrative. Some potential avenues for further research follow.

6.2 Next Steps and Recommendations for Future Research

The results of this research have potential application to other forms of games and interactions as well. Further sequels are on the way for many of the games that were part of my study. Since the writing of this thesis, newer titles in the NHL and Middle Earth franchises have already been released. These could be explored to consider cumulative effects over the course of the series in the same way that I have explored the Deus Ex series. Additional genres of AAA games would be worthy of categorization into narrative units, with an eye towards how the balance of embedded and emergent storytelling is designed. Transmedia storytelling is another avenue to explore, with both the cyberpunk literary themes in Deus Ex and the array of media engaging with the fantasy themes in the Tolkien universe. Out- side of AAA game titles, the world of independent and “auteur” games that do not neatly fit into conventional genres would provide a diverse array of game stories to investigate. In addition, electronic literature offers a wide variety of textual and multimedia approaches to storytelling that would be valuable avenues for further research. In the following sections, I will provide a brief overview of the possibilities within each of these categories.

6.2.1 Further Sequels

In the interim years since NHL 12 was released, the series of hockey games has continued each year unabated. Certainly there have been updates to graphical qualities in the games in addition to statistics on new and veteran athletes and innovations in the game mechanics. It would be useful to examine the modes of gameplay associated with following a particular athlete from the junior leagues to mastery in a professional NHL team. There is also potential to look more closely at the tournament mode of the game, guiding a favorite team through the playoffs. It would be fruitful to apply the search for modular narrative units to the recent and upcoming titles that are being released in the series that I have begun. Middle Earth: Shadow of War is a sequel to Shadow of Mordor that extends the story of Talion in the game world. It would be interesting to compare the way that this franchise connects the story of this same

136 character across multiple titles and compare this to the way that it was handled in the Deus Ex series, which eventually relied on prequels to find creative ways to expand the story.

6.2.2 Additional AAA Genres

Further research could be undertaken to investigate the properties of narrative units in additional genres of games, such as simulation or strategy titles. In the continuum between emergent and embedded storytelling, a game like The Sims would present a challenge in formulating the units because there is no predetermined ‘spine’ to the story enacted by the player. Perhaps such a game has greater similarities to NHL 12 with the building of larger narrative arcs ‘from the ground up’. Perhaps the primacy of micronarrative might be much greater in such a system. Performing a similar study on a different genre of game may expand upon the utility of the framework and reveal new insights in genres that have been less frequently associated with overtly narrative motives.

6.2.3 Transmedia Storytelling

Expanding the context of the research into transmedia storytelling could be fruitful. In many games during the past decade, the plot has been extended through forays into other media, such as comic books, webpages, mobile apps and even film. For example, the Deus Ex games deal with technological and social themes inspired by TV shows like The X-Files and movies like The Matrix, which itself took part in a multilayered transmedia project. Are there ways in which narrative units in games could be aligned with similar structures in other media to create a dynamic interactive experience that maintains unity and cohesion across those media boundaries? In the Middle Earth series from Warner Bros., it might be interesting to conduct an examination of the ways that transmedia storytelling can be evaluated in terms of narrative units linked from literature and film to games and beyond.

6.2.4 Independent Titles

Applying this framework to the narrative designs of independent games of a smaller scale and heavier textual emphasis would be of great interest to me. Failbetter’s 2015 game Sunless Sea is a strong example of modular storytelling that combines lexia with combat and exploration challenges that the interactor navigates in real time. Another award-winning game that presents modular and dynamic lexia is Inkle’s 80 Days, which also happens to have a circumnavigation theme. Comparing these travel-based narrative structures with the form of the epic in literature may reveal some interesting strategies for narrative design in terms of how modular units are structured. Potentially, other methodologies might be applied the problem of understanding the properties of narrative units in dynamic systems. There is a great deal of work that has

137 been done in the Interactive Digital Narrative community in the design of computational prototypes that exemplify theories about such systems. Rather than an inductive approach, as I have done, there are certainly deductive approaches that could yield advances in this problem as well. For instance, modular design could be applied from the ground up in the creation of an experimental game system that structures story arcs in reconfigurable ways.

6.2.5 Electronic Literature

Games and Electronic Literature have an interesting relationship. The role of modularity is a unifying force between the genres of commercial AAA game titles and literary games. In hypertext, the use of modular construction is certainly not new. Lexia is one of the historic terms that has been applied to the modules of text that are recombined in works of this kind. Lexia has a long history of use and is embraced in hypertext. The games Lifeline and The Stanley Parable could be considered literary games. The Stanley Parable features a narrating voice that booms over a first-person game world that the player navigates. It first appears to be similar to the shooter genre of games, but the player has agency only in the traversal of the connected rooms. Eventually, through responding to cues from the narrator, the framing of what is really happening begins to evolve in the player’s mind. It would be challenging to map the narrative structure of this game because the events that are happening occur mostly in the mind of the player, based on interpretations of what is seen in the game world. The game Lifeline is an interesting experiment using a mobile device as a site of interaction between a player and a fictional character. Short textual interactions help to build the plot of the story. Again, agency is framed in an interesting way in this game, and mapping the story arc would be a fruitful exercise in testing the usefulness of my framework of narrative modules. In Astrid Ensslin’s book Literary Games, she presents a taxonomy of electronic literature featuring different levels of narrative structuring. She has organized the categories in a range from works featuring primarily a reading experience on the left, to works focusing on a play experience on the right. On the leftmost side is Kinetic digital literature (which is primarily a reading experience), followed by Code works and Hypertexts/hypermedia nearing the center, to Poetry games, Literary auteur games and what she calls “Quasi- literary” games at the far right, representing works that are primarily a play experience. Accordingly, the hypertext Patchwork Girl falls in the center of the continuum, with elements of play and elements of reading. This work of electronic literature would be an interesting avenue of exploration. Because it has a visibly modular structure already, it is likely that patterns of narrative arcs that can be recombined to create flexible and hierarchical stories would be present. This would be another good test for the framework that I have been researching.

138 6.3 Concluding Thoughts

Returning to the question posed at the beginning of this study: ”How does the design of narrative units in single-player action video games function in the experience of a coherent story?”, it is now possible to suggest that narrative units have a structurally en- twined relationship with the ludic elements in games. The key poetics of the design depend on Modularity, Hierarchy and Cumulativity. It is through the principles of Modularity, Hierar- chy and Cumulativity that gameplay and story can be reconciled. I have demonstrated that Action games are a worthy addition to the types of story-focused games appropriate for narratological study. Modularity is a powerful concept that unites ludic goals and narrative experiences. In addition, Hierarchy provides a structure for repetition of the narrative arc at different scales. Finally, Cumulativity allows for the accrual of both narrative and ludic elements. Points are scored, experience points add up so that the player advances in levels and the modules of story resolve into closure at different stages of completion. It has become clear to me that modular construction thus allows for the joining of narrative arcs with the dynamics of gameplay.The logic of gameplay and the logic of narrative are conjoined structurally. Looking at the big picture, my results can be integrated into the conversation about interactive storytelling in several ways. My investigation has led me to consider new ways of framing questions about narrative and games. Locating the boundaries of the narrative arcs in each game provided insight into how these arcs inter-relate, demonstrating a hierarchical system: smaller narrative modules are systematically embedded within the larger narrative arcs. Narrative coherence at the micro level is comprised of moment-by-moment interactive play. A small but coherent arc exists as a micronarrative, creating the briefest narrative experience. Meanwhile, narrative coherence at the macro level develops progres- sively, scaffolded by the smaller moments and by the intention of the game designers. In addition, I found that the narrative units were cumulative in their effect on the ongoing game story. Narrative knowledge accumulates as more modules are played. In some instances the modules are designed so that the narrative experience works regardless of the order in which they are played. This research reveals design poetics that can be applied to future interactive narrative projects. A better understanding of how to integrate story into the gameplay experience in a satisfying way benefits analysts, designers and players. This in turn helps to improve the discourse in games studies in education and in design practice, with the aspiration to keep the medium progressing and iterating on its designed structures.

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146 Video Games

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147 A | Close Reading Notes

On the following pages, I have included a representative sample of my handwritten notes on the games in my study, including NHL 12, Shadow of Mordor and the Deus Ex franchise. These notes are unedited and demonstrate some of the raw ideas that I was working with during the process of close reading.

148 Figure A.1: Notes on the plot development of Invisible War.

149 Figure A.2: I used these notes to keep track of events associated with my save files in the game Invisible War. The numeric codes correspond to hours, minutes and seconds of elapsed game time. (continues on next page).

150 Figure A.3: Notes on events in the game Invisible War correspond with elapsed game time- codes in my save files.

151 Figure A.4: Some general notes on Shadow of Mordor and NHL 12

152 Figure A.5: Prose at top continues from NHL 12 notes. The lower half of the page shows groupings of locations within cities in the game Invisible War

153 Figure A.6: Notes from some missions and objectives in Human Revolution

154 Figure A.7: Additional notes from Human Revolution

155 Figure A.8: Missions and objectives continue in my notes from Human Revolution

156 Figure A.9: Additional notes from the cities Detroit and Hengsha in Human Revolution

157 Figure A.10: Notes on missions within the city of Hengsha in Human Revolution

158 Figure A.11: My notes on the Singapore city unit in Human Revolution

159 Figure A.12: Notes on the final mission in Human Revolution

160