The Presence of Narrative in Non-Linear Experiences

Being exposed from an early age to highly thematic and narrative-based literature and film, my mind is predisposed to understanding the world through linear mediums that seek to communicate ideas intentionally. Since college I’ve been fascinated by non-linear representations of the world, mostly because their apparent lack of cohesive ideas present a challenge to demystify their meaning. This pursuit has mostly just facilitated a better understanding, and thereby respect, of visual art. However, this respect does not envelope all art; forms of highly self-expressive nature are of little value to me. Surely there is meaning behind the works of Dadaists or Abstract Expressionists.

Over the past year or so, a critical outlook towards the medium of games has also emerged, much for the same reasons. Again, the main question is whether games that lack themes or centralized ideas are worth playing. A popular genre that routinely lacks these tend to place the player in a non-linear sandbox. In such an environment the player is often given little story or overarching themes to the world. I find that in these settings, instead of taking actions that gravitate around a meaning or story, I am forced to focus on mechanics and technique. Often this has turned an enjoyable experience into a practice in micro-management. All allure is removed as the game’s relationship to the player is no longer a dialog, but is forced to be game-centric through requiring the player to obsess over technique in order to progress.

Appreciating forms of this nature in games while coming from a narrative-heavy background has been a great challenge. However, I think I was able to find an answer through friends, my own occupation, and a couple of recent sandbox games. While in San Antonio for a time, I was able to get to know a good friend who is a general contractor; a job that requires a lot of physical manipulation and knowledge of how physical systems work. I was also employed as a software engineer, which typically requires one to design and think about software as analogous to objects and tools. The realization is that objects in this genre of game, and in real life, have a level of intrinsic meaning. The specific games that helped the realization of this were Katamari Damacy and Just Cause 2. Previously I mentioned that the typical result of playing these games is to obsess over technique. While recently playing Just Cause 2, the realization came that I could determine a relation between the designer’s crafting of physical objects to the other elements in the game (such as story, music, etc). Since most of the game involves manipulating objects in order to achieve objectives, each object is given certain physical properties, and all objects operate along a common set of physical laws. The variation in the properties present of the objects convey a different meaning when used, much in the way that a sledgehammer can be used in a different manner than a knife. Now, I’m not trying to say that Just Cause 2 uses realistic physics. But rather, that the designer’s embed their choice of meaning through making objects that operate in certain ways, even if those ways seem minute. An excellent example can be seen through the sound queues that arise when picking up objects in Katamari Damacy, which taken with the rest of the game, convey an idea of the futility of material wealth.

Lastly, so as to not convey that I intend on spending countless hours seeking meaning within sandbox games, I don’t believe that I can personally invest large amounts of time in these games and still derive just as much meaning if I were to read a book or have a good conversation. As stated in the beginning, I’m predisposed to other ways of understanding the world. As such, this method is intended merely to assist in interpreting what otherwise tends to appear as chaos. At most, I intend on using it to understand better the designer’s vision and how people find meaning in non-linear contexts, which seems a popular outlook.