World of Warcraft
The guys at Blizzard Entertainment are really
really good!
Analytic and reflective little warriorette that
I am, I took a few minutes to take a few giant steps back from the Lich King’s
domain and its immanent menaces. I need
to thaw out. While I thawed and restored
circulation in my frostbitten little nose, I worked my own superpowers of
analysis on the Blizzard Entertainment guys’ new wonderwork, subjecting them to
“rigorous inquisition,” as the poet William Wordsworth called a careful
critical inquiry. Did I mention that
these guys are really good at their craft?
I’m not talking simply about the Warcraft which drives the game’s
interactive and infinitely variable plot, but all the elements of folklore and
storytelling that inform the game, and all the shamanistic computer wizardry
that empowers this kind of brilliant creation.
Trust me: I’m a tough judge. I went to an ivy league school, so I
understand just exactly how “C” means average and ordinary. Therefore, if I award an “A,” the guy on the receiving end knows he has
accomplished something meaningful and valuable.
Imagine what it took for these guys to earn their “A-plus”! Let me break it down for you, dropping in the
ivy league theory and nomenclature as needed, because that’s the world where I
naturally reign as heroine-shaman supreme…
- Exquisite elements of story
telling: The Blizzard Entertainment guys
understand and command the essential elements of powerful narrative. They
clearly have done their homework among Greek and Latin epic narrators, and
they have studied—and cleverly imitated--authors of medieval quest
romances. We can measure the
quality of their work by the quality of their villains. In the tradition and more literally in
French, the word “villain” means low-life scum. No matter how exalted a villain’s
political position, he must remain unmistakably a low-life scum. Arthras measures-up against the toughest
standards—in words, and especially in images. Arthras terrifies, humiliates,
arrogates, and abuses just like every good villain should, inviting us to
despise him in every good way a hero should.
Examined
from a completely different angle, “Wrath of the Lich King” cashes-in on what
psychoanalyst Bruno Bettleheim describes as “the uses of enchantment.” Bettleheim claims, and the Blizzard guys
prove, we turn to literature—especially to epic and quest romance—to liberate
the hidden heroines in ourselves. To the
extent that we identify with literature’s heroines, we find the latent heroism
in ourselves. The Blizzard Entertainment
guys have taken that “psycho-dynamic” to a whole new level, because we no
longer have to identify with our heroines.
We become them.
- Aesthetics: In antique reproductions, we
call the look “distressed”—the crafty result of making a brand new piece
look weathered and ancient. Samuel
Taylor Coleridge made his “Rime of the Ancient Mariner” look
distressed by his use of archaic
language and his inclusion of “glosses” in the margins—as if some ancient
editor had reviewed the poem and made a lot of mistakes. The Blizzard Entertainment guys have
raised the standards for skilled “distressing,” too. Thumbing through the resources on the
web pages promoting “Wrath of the Lith King,” you find lavishly
illustrated old-looking maps, tables, charts, and all the other folkloric
relics of a battle allegedly fought and won long-long ago.
Even more
importantly, their work appears seamless.
The graphics, sounds, music and languages harmonize, triggering players’
synaesthesia, making them feel enveloped in the game’s hostile environment, and
inspiring them to master it. In the
early part of the Victorian era, art critics treasured all things “sublime”—simultaneously
overwhelming and awe-inspiring. Our
abuse of the word “awesome” comes from this traditional esteem for the
sublime. In the presence of the sublime,
we’re supposed to feel how tiny we are, and we’re also supposed to feel how
powerfully graced we are that we have dominion over the environment and all its
threatening forces and creatures. The
Blizzard guys transport us right to the heart of the sublime.
- Engagement: For all its daunting dazzle,
the game and its landscape are amazingly friendly. The game engages players at their own levels
and helps them evolve to higher and higher ranks and standings. I could navigate through the hostile
terrain almost instantly, and all the tips immediately freed me from the
quandaries into which I worked myself.
Although the hostile creatures pose significant risks, and although
they challenged me to develop new skills and talents, they never had the
power to destroy me. There’s a lot
of comfort in that kind of resilience.
But I especially appreciate the game’s liberal allowance for
different values and temperaments.
I want to belong among the warriors, but I do not want to be
renowned for my ferocity. The game
allows me to choose missions and quests that suit my natural temperament
while I fire-up my feral streak. Far
more significant for veteran gamers, though, the landscape, the weapons,
and the adversaries evolve in perfect synch with your character’s emerging
skills. That synch takes “user
friendly” to a whole new level.
Of course, we all understand that authors never
recognize the power and subtlety of their own work; that’s why critics can keep
their jobs. If they are truly as good as
their products, the Blizzard Entertainment guys will admit that they never
consciously considered this theoretical stuff as they got entangled in the codes
and intricacies of their game. They
probably never even intended many of the effects and affects they achieve. They get credit for all that good stuff
anyway. It’s just in the nature of the
storyteller’s enterprise.
Did I mention that the Blizzard guys are really
really good?
