Fatalism and Narrativsm

[Paganini]

The discussion at the end of this thread caught my eye, but Ron closed it afore I could post:

http://www.indie-rpgs.com/viewtopic.php?t=8494

There was some talk about Boewulf and Huck Finn not exhibiting thematic conflicts. I have several things to say about this.

First of all, both works cited are very large literary works. Egri's thematic material deals with drama (i.e., plays) and short stories, which are by nature extremely focused. I claim that a major work - say a novel like Huck Finn - deals with many thematic concepts. It may be true that Huck never doubts his course of action, but he *is* presented with many choices along the way. The choices serve to illustrate his character, exactly because he makes them without hesitation or doubt.

Furthermore, Huck is the narrator; even if the story was truely non-conflicted from his point of view, there are plenty of other conflicts explored through the other characters.

Moving on from there, I'm pondering the definition of Narrativism. Currently, it requires that the PCs face and make ethical / moral decisions, yes? I wonder about the Tale of Turin (Tolkien), which is, to me, a great example of fated drama. Turin's doom was pretty much set in stone from the very start. IIRC, it was even prophecied. One of the main themes of the story is Turin's *lack* of choice. He tries to be honorable, noble, do the right thing, etc., but there's no hope. The narrative certainly deals with with moral and ethical issues (boy, does it ever!) yet the the protagonist walks a set path.

This reminds me of this thread: http://www.indie-rpgs.com/viewtopic.php?t=4738

Vincent's whole point was to set up a situation where a thematic narrative was produced by purely causal play (i.e., simulationism).

I would suggest that Narrativism be expanded to include the addressing of theme on a meta-level, by the players via narrative device and the like, rather than limiting it exclusively to PC action.

[Ron Edwards]

Hello,

Those are good points, Nathan, but I think that the current definition already covers them. People are falling into the trap of thinking that, in discussing Narrativism, the characters know they are facing a choice, and that they choose in full consideration of the options. This is not at all the case.

Since characters are fictional, they may or may not make choices in this way. In many, many, many cases, they do not - the way they take the path they take (straight-ahead response, no "considering") lets us know what sort of person they are.

However! That doesn't mean the real issue does not consitute a "choice." In fact, review the meaning of Premise: it's a conundrum or issue that's important to the players, as such. Whether it's recognized or important to the characters as a choice/conundrum is totally, totally irrelevant to the definition.

In fact, going back to Egri, he usually recommends defining a character as so thoroughly embarked on his or her path relative to Premise, that there's no turning back. I see this as an artifact of the theater medium, as plays usually begin well after the point of no return for the conflict in question. When novels or other longer-term fictional contexts are considered, the Premise has a lot of time to evolve into place. But Egri's point is worth noting, because it emphasizes the point that the characters really do not have to "realize" the Premise is happening - in fact, most of the best characters realize nothing of the sort.

Now, my last and larger point: people are being way too casual with referencing literature and other media, when discussing Premise. Remember that in role-playing, the creation and the presentation of the art form are simultaneous. That is not the case for a novel, play, epic poem, movie, or similar. In those media, the author or authors create(s) first, and the audience experiences it later.

This is a big deal. Its consequence is that, when appreciating and enjoying the presentation of those other media, the protagonists' actions are indeed fixed. They are flies in amber. The story is already made and is now being told. Our audience-appreciation of that story is only Premise insofar as we haven't finished the story yet; once we do, it's Theme.

But in Narrativist role-playing, Premise is a real live thing throughout most of the role-playing experience. Its existence is negotiated into Theme; the people at the table are taking the experience of the author and turning it, itself, into a creative social medium. Theme doesn't happen until the moments of major conflict resolution arrive, or as hints of what that conflict resolution might become.

So pointing to any non-role-playing medium and talking about how characters "choices" are fixed, is perilously close to missing the mark entirely, at a pretty fundamental level of understanding.

Best,
Ron

[John Kim]

There was some talk about Boewulf and Huck Finn not exhibiting thematic conflicts. I have several things to say about this.

First of all, both works cited are very large literary works. Egri's thematic material deals with drama (i.e., plays) and short stories, which are by nature extremely focused. I claim that a major work - say a novel like Huck Finn - deals with many thematic concepts. It may be true that Huck never doubts his course of action, but he *is* presented with many choices along the way.  The choices serve to illustrate his character, exactly because he makes them without hesitation or doubt.  

Just to clarify -- I didn't say that there was no thematic conflict in the work.  I just said that Huck and Beowulf don't have dramatic arcs to their character.  It's been a while since I read Huck Finn, so take what I say with a grain of salt -- but I don't think your suggestion is quite true.  Huck really isn't a deep character, but his amoral observations serve as a commentary on society.  i.e. The action doesn't so much illustrate his character as it illustrates the society seen through his eyes.  

This is a big difference from most drama.  For example, Berthold Brecht makes a big deal about the difference between cathartic and epic stories.  A cathartic story works through identification with the protagonist, and uses this tie to pull the viewer through a dramatic arc to closure.  An epic story (as Brecht defines it) instead presents a character whom they ultimately cannot identify with.  It challenges the audience rather than relieving them.  

Those are good points, Nathan, but I think that the current definition already covers them. People are falling into the trap of thinking that, in discussing Narrativism, the characters know they are facing a choice, and that they choose in full consideration of the options. This is not at all the case.

Since characters are fictional, they may or may not make choices in this way. In many, many, many cases, they do not - the way they take the path they take (straight-ahead response, no "considering") lets us know what sort of person they are.  
...
Egri's point is worth noting, because it emphasizes the point that the characters really do not have to "realize" the Premise is happening - in fact, most of the best characters realize nothing of the sort.  

I don't feel strongly about whether or not this is included in the umbrella of "Narrativism".  Regardless of what this is called, though, I think it needs to be acknowledged that there is a major difference in approach here (between fatalist and cathartic stories).  Also, I disagree about dramatic characters not realizing what is happening.  

While they might not express it, virtually all characters in drama go through a dramatic arc -- i.e. they develop as a person through their experiences during the play.  That is, they do realize that something is happening, and change in response to it.  This is how drama works: through identification with the protagonist.  While there are examples of protagonists lacking an arc, they are very far from the norm.  I don't think that you can find that many examples before moving into obscure works.  

But in Narrativist role-playing, Premise is a real live thing throughout most of the role-playing experience. Its existence is negotiated into Theme; the people at the table are taking the experience of the author and turning it, itself, into a creative social medium. Theme doesn't happen until the moments of major conflict resolution arrive, or as hints of what that conflict resolution might become.

So pointing to any non-role-playing medium and talking about how characters "choices" are fixed, is perilously close to missing the mark entirely, at a pretty fundamental level of understanding.  

While I agree that Nathan should have referred specifically to role-playing rather than books, I think we can extrapolate out what the equivalent in role-playing would be.  That is, in a fatalist RPG, the major conflict resolution is pre-determined.  The participants agree in advance what the answer to the Premise is going to be.  By the time character creation is complete and the campaign is started, we know what dramatically will happen to the main character(s).  

In the previous thread, I talked about my PC Harkel in the Immortal Tales campaign.  This is relevant here, I think, because the Immortal Tales game had a fixed future.  The campaign was all told in flashback.  The four PCs all met in modern day at Odysseus' chalet in Switzerland and swapped stories.  Each session, a different one of the four of us would be the GM, and the game would be set at some period in history when the other three PCs met.  It was non-linear in time -- different sessions would jump back and forth centuries.  

I don't think it was strictly fatalist, but it did have a pre-determined future.  And in the case of my PC, I explicitly chose a dramatically flat character.  Harkel had no angst or doubt, and never grew as a person.  As a player, I knew from the start what he was Thematically about.  He did change religions like socks, but that just served to show that it wasn't important to him.  I see him as being like Huck -- he provided an immortal viewpoint on the action, a commentary on humanity.  On the other hand, other characters did have at least short arcs within a given session, although arcs didn't really go between episodes.  The other characters might have made it more Narrativist, but I'd say from what I understand Harkel was Simulationist (i.e. exploration of pre-determined theme instead of dynamic Premise-addressing).

[Paganini]

Ron, basically, yeah. I've got this headcold thing, maybe the meds are making me vague, but the first half of your post was pretty much exactly the point I was trying to make. :)

[M. J. Young]

That is, in a fatalist RPG, the major conflict resolution is pre-determined.  The participants agree in advance what the answer to the Premise is going to be.  By the time character creation is complete and the campaign is started, we know what dramatically will happen to the main character(s).

John's got some wonderful stuff in his post, but I'm afraid I have to take issue with this point. I do not see knowing the outcome of the events of the story and knowing the answer to the premise as being precisely equivalent.

We might create a character whom we decide will always be loyal first to his king, and decide that during the course of the adventure his brother will become a significant force in a coup attempt supporting a rival candidate for the throne; we could decide that in the end the brothers will fight, and even that the one loyal to the king will kill his brother. We've framed the entire story. Yet we have not answered the premise: was it good or bad that the character maintained his loyalty to the king in the face of the treason within his own family? That is going to be answered in part by the details of how all this plays, and in part by our perceptions of those details.

We could similarly look at the story of the brother, whom we could characterize as a rogue looking for a way to grab power to himself, who would ultimately see a path to power through the coup attempt. We still haven't answered the premise, whether he wins or loses that fight (and whether or not the outcome is predetermined). The answer to the premise is not always the resolution of the events; it is what we perceive about the resolution of the events.

Now, maybe I misunderstood what you intended in this, but I think you could have an entirely fatalist setup and still address premise by playing it out in ways that color how the outcome is perceived. Does the character know his fate, or stumble into it? If he knows it, does he embrace it or fight it? How does it ultimately come to pass?

Fiction may illustrate this in that characters in fiction can do all those things, and in so doing their choices address the premise and create theme; roleplaying characters similarly address the premise by how they fulfill their destinies, even when those destinies are fixed.

--M. J. Young

[Marco]

Where I go with this is the following:

Narratist play is, at least in significant part (as I understand it), described by what the people at the table are making a priority (reinforcing, grooving on, etc.). If, due to the fatalism of my character design, if that threshold is never truly tested, then I believe my play will be more focused on situation than theme (I brought this up in a prior thread previously).

It would seem that: if my character design places the threshold of decision (the point at which I as a player will make an interesting decision related to Premise) above the level the game reaches, then an observer will see that, while I am reacting to situation, I, as a player, am not engaged in the moral question of decision making.

It seems to me that would be simulationist play. By definition. By definition of prioritization.

-Marco

[John Kim]

That is, in a fatalist RPG, the major conflict resolution is pre-determined.  The participants agree in advance what the answer to the Premise is going to be.  By the time character creation is complete and the campaign is started, we know what dramatically will happen to the main character(s).

John's got some wonderful stuff in his post, but I'm afraid I have to take issue with this point. I do not see knowing the outcome of the events of the story and knowing the answer to the premise as being precisely equivalent.

Actually, I agree with you -- I spoke as if they were equivalent, but that was a mistake.  Resolution of an external conflict is definitely not the same as what the answer to the Premise is.  You gave a good example of how the thematic answer can be in doubt even if the result (i.e. who wins the fight) is is not.  

Despite that slip-up, though, I think I still meant the latter part.  As I consider fatalism, the important part to my mind isn't that the ending (of the external conflict) is known -- it is that the character has no dramatic arc.  And this means, I think, that the answer to the Premise is predetermined.  

Now, maybe I misunderstood what you intended in this, but I think you could have an entirely fatalist setup and still address premise by playing it out in ways that color how the outcome is perceived. Does the character know his fate, or stumble into it? If he knows it, does he embrace it or fight it? How does it ultimately come to pass?  

If the character really has no dramatic arc, then the answer to whether he embraces his fate or fights it is known when the character is defined.  Filling in how his fate comes to pass doesn't seem like addressing Premise to me in GNS terms -- it seems like exploration.  This suggests to me that fatalist role-playing is Simulationist.  That makes a fair amount of sense to me.  I think this is discussed in the GNS essays -- i.e. that if an answer to the Premise is decided in advance, then it is Simulationist.  

Fiction may illustrate this in that characters in fiction can do all those things, and in so doing their choices address the premise and create theme; roleplaying characters similarly address the premise by how they fulfill their destinies, even when those destinies are fixed.  

You are relying here on character choices, and I would agree that in most dramatic fiction that is true.  But we are talking about the small subclass of fiction where the protagonist doesn't have choices -- where who she is defines what she will do.  Such characters can be said to lack depth, and it's true.  Beowulf, say, just isn't a deep dramatic character.

[Christopher Kubasik]

Hi,

I've been following the pulse of this matter for several threads now, and, with apologies to Ron and his accurate point that we're talking different things with RPGs and movies/novels/plays, I must ask, "What the heck is going on?"

How did these discussions reach the point where John can write, "who [a character] is defines what [the character] will do," as a counterpoint to the idea that "most" characters make "choices."

Folks, going back to Poetics, who a character is defines what the character does.  That's the definition of character.  Whether the character is consistant in his choices, or changes, *that's* the character.

If a character is resolute -- that is, continuously behaves as he did at the start of the story, that's, for lack of a better word in fixed stories, his choice.   Huck, for example, helps a SLAVE ESCAPE! for crying out loud.  Through slaves states.  That's a choice.  Now, he's not conflicted about this.  No.  He's in no agony.  Who he is determines he behave this way, and the threats and offers along the way simply prove this is the choice he's making.

People seems to be conflating "choice" with "tormented" or something.  Not the same thing at all.  All characters are constantly being tossed choices.  Some simply are steadfast.  Someone might call such a character less "dramatic."  It's not a call I'm prepared to make.

In the last section of Beowulf, Beowulf stands against the dragon.  All of his fellow warriors flee but one.  (It's a fucking amazing scene that still gets to me just thinking about.)  Yes, its compelling, really compelling that that last warrior stays with his lord.  But, please, remember, Beowulf stays too.  I know why the warrior stays -- his fear is overcome by his loyalty.  But that fact that Beowulf stays without needing to dither is also compelling.  Why does he stay?  It's not for any obvious reason.  Tease that out from the entire tale and you'll find theme and premise.

And it's not rare at all.  These are all examples from really popular movies: Richard Kimball in "The Fugitive"; Hanibal Lector in Silence of the Lambs; Eliot Ness in "The Untouchables"; Maxiumus in "Gladiator."  I don't know about you, but I was *with* these guys, in one way or another, and they are fixed.  But their fixed behavior always revealed by the other behavior not taken.

Sam in the Lord of the Rings.  Richard the III.  Caliban in The Tempest.  All four of the major characters in Seinfeld.  (Except the episode where George decided to do the exact opposite of his normal choices.)

The "fixed" character isn't "fated" -- for better or worse, he keeps making "that" choice.  And he isn't dull or flat -- or doesn't have to be.

All this matters for RPGs, because the logic seems to be here that for narrativist play, the players have to toss their PCs on a sea of angst, flipping around and whirling like WoD Vampires in cycles of Humanity loss and gain.

No.  A player can have his PC make the same damn choice the entire fucking tale, and it's still a choice.  It's still compelling, in part because after a while you realize, "this guy is just not going to stop," and whether it's Beowulf or Jerry on Sienfeld, you have to keep looking because you need to know exactly what the train wreck is going to look like.  (Or, in the case of Huck and Sam, to discover, to your surprise, that steadfast loyalty and faith somehow, sometimes, can pay off.)

If I may, I think this all started when Fusangite asked about characters (or their players, it got slippery) who learn something that informs them of the fact they have a role to play in a story, they know what they story is, so they just have to play the role.

This set up, intriguing though it is, has *nothing* whatsoever to do with the character of Beowulf or Huck Finn.  Clearly.

Second, if the player/character can't choose to disobey the stricture of their role, then they are no longer characters in the usual sense of the word.  They are filling a role, everyone knows they're filling the role, and now we're in "ritual" not story.  And that's a whole 'nother ball game.

What makes this situation different from a heroquest in Hero Quest is that in HQ the characters can still make choices.  Here, apparently, you're just filling out the actions that everyone knows is supposed to happen.  Again, ritual.  And in terms of Fusangite's set up, at this point it seems like the end game to a puzzle: There's a mystery of the world, the players gather clues, determine the "truth" of the ritual tale the PC are supposed to play out, and then do it.  But, again, at this point you're role playing the "telling" of a tale, not the tale itself.  It may not be narrativism, but it's also not joined to any of the tales that have been so far referenced (Beowulf, Huck Finn, the Iliad).  It's a pageant at this point, done on the High Holidays, but  without actual choice to fill the role or not, it's not a "story."

Take care,
Christopher

[John Kim]

Second, if the player/character can't choose to disobey the stricture of their role, then they are no longer characters in the usual sense of the word.  They are filling a role, everyone knows they're filling the role, and now we're in "ritual" not story.  And that's a whole 'nother ball game.

What makes this situation different from a heroquest in Hero Quest is that in HQ the characters can still make choices.  Here, apparently, you're just filling out the actions that everyone knows is supposed to happen.  Again, ritual.  And in terms of Fusangite's set up, at this point it seems like the end game to a puzzle: There's a mystery of the world, the players gather clues, determine the "truth" of the ritual tale the PC are supposed to play out, and then do it.  But, again, at this point you're role playing the "telling" of a tale, not the tale itself.  It may not be narrativism, but it's also not joined to any of the tales that have been so far referenced (Beowulf, Huck Finn, the Iliad).  It's a pageant at this point, done on the High Holidays, but  without actual choice to fill the role or not, it's not a "story."

What the heck?   So actual oral storytelling doesn't involve "story" and in fact is only ritual?   Theater where actors portray written lines isn't "story"?  That is what you are saying.  I think that is nonsensical. Someone who tells Beowulf or the Kalevala, say, is indeed telling a story.  It is also a ritual and the words aren't being improvised, but that doesn't mean that it isn't a story or that the story lacks power.  

Now, you're right that these aren't role-playing.  But how does the definition of story so completely reverse between performance art and role-playing?  Apparently something is a story if performed as written (theater), and also a story if wholly improvised (narrativist RPG), but not a story if some details are improvised but the theme is kept (fatalist RPG)?!?

[Ian Charvill]

Theatre pretty clearly is ritual and historically in derived from more explicit and generally recognised rituals.  However, the act of writing a play isn't ritual - it's preparation for a ritual.

Given that in RPGs the 'writing' and 'performance' are simultaneous it - like improv - doesn't have this ritual component.  Therefore RPGs are distinct from theatre in that they lack the element of ritual.

But none of this has anything to do however with whether it's a story or not.

[pete_darby]

Knackers to Anglo Saxon epics and greek tragedy: the ultimate examples for role players as to whether predestination answers premise are in time travel episodes of Star Trek.

Most importantly, Deja Q (someone will correct me about the episode title I'm sure). Previously, it's been established that Picard was stabbed right through the chest in a bar brawl in his youth. We also know that he laughed when he saw the point emerge from his sternum.

At the time the tale is told, it serves as an example to Wesley that his mentor was once young and far more foolish than he: the laugh is presumed to be an expression of clinical shock, hysteria and bravado.

In Deja Q, Picard is given the opportunity to go back in time, change events, not pick a fight, and thus prevent his death from complications from the wound 20 odd years later. Which he does, and finds that it set the tone for his own later life as a, lets face it, tech support nerd, not bold captain.

So, he goes back again, picks the fight, laughs when he sees the point emerge from his sternum (and, thanks to Patrick Stewart, it's pretty obvious, the laugh is one of joyous triumph that he has set the world right again, even at the cost of his early death 20 years later). Of course, it turns out he doesn't die 20 years later (this is syndicated TV, folks, not Lysistrata), and we get a "was it just an NDE" coda.

Now, to me, that's all premise addressing goodness. Picard has to address the premise "Is a bold short life prefereable to a long timid one?", and knowing Picard you know what he will choose, but that's the point.

Predestination plots are / can be pure premise in a can. They tell you the what, which is the dullest part of nar play. It leaves the how and the why wide open inside a defined frame of action, allowing judgement of the adressing of the premise up to the "audience."

[Ron Edwards]

Gee,

And here I was only going to post to say "I agree" to Marco. If I understand correctly, you're corroborating my samurai examples in the Simulationism essay.

I'll do that and quick get outta here before the "knife protrudes from chest" becomes more than mere example.

Best,
Ron

[Christopher Kubasik]

Hi John,

A clarification:

I'm not saying that when actors perform lines in a play (or a movie) it's not a story.  The audience percieving the story sees it has happening now, and thus, there's a story.

My point in reference to Fusangite's meta-whatever stuff, where the *players* realize their characters have certain actions to play out (if I understood it correctly), and the audience (the players) set out to recreate the narrative they've become a part of correctly.

Since all we're doing is judging the accuracy of a good "performance," it is a story, but not one that' Narrativist for GNS purposes, because there's no choice.  It's a shadow play of a story.

Please keep in mind the first half of my post... The point is to dismantle this whole idea of "Fatalsitic" characters.  Beowulf (in "Beowulf") doesn't know he's Beowulf "playing" Beowulf, which seemed to be what Fusangite's characters end up doing.  

What you think I said, is not what I said.  Grant me that since I was reference movies and oral tales a stories, I certianly think they are stories.

Now, plays and movies (and oral storytelling) while containing ritualized components, are not ritual. They are art forms with their own concerns.  Dramatic narrative, for example, depends on creating the tension that the scene might go either way -- even though it might be recorded for posterity.  

In short, there is a conern for creating the illusiong that "this really happened," or "this is happening."  Even in Beowulf, with all the little details of life, the reactions of the characters.  My point is that a ritual doesn't concern itself with such matters: it holds the story up and says, "here are the details that matter; we're putting the characters through the paces, and once we're done, you'll know them."

Using Fusangite's style (and again, that's what I am talking about here), I'm not sure how anyone could come to the point of wondering how its going to turn out, since apparently, after solving the puzzle of what story we're in, we just play out the story appropriately.  It seems like hardcore style of sim to me, not Narrativism, which, in my mind, settles the whole thing pretty quickly.

Now, as for the broader issue of a character who doesn't change... I'm still not sure how such characters are flat.  I'm still not sure how their not involved with an Ergi like premise.  I listed four major characters from major films (I'll toss in Sonny from "The Godfather," just cause he's on my mind right now), and say, again, that in the context of their stories, all of these characters are enaged with the premise of the story.  All of them compelling.  All of them serving to illustrate the tension of the premise in contrast with the other characters in the work.

This all began, please remember, with the concern of characters not making choices, not changing.  Such charcters were variously called Fated or Fixed, and thus not part of Nar play, because they weren't making choices.  My point simply is, they are.  They're simply making the same choice again and again.... Which from ancient times to the present, is a perfectly viable and well-used option for characters.

As for your final question, of course something is a "story" in an RPG if some of the details are improvised but the theme is kept -- and its the little word "some" for the details changing that allows the possibility of it being Narrativist.

As for "Fatalist RPG" -- I actually haven't seen a definition of this yet... I didn't know there was one yet.

As far as I can tell it means either a) a PC jumping through the hoops of a character we already know; or b) the ending of the story is already known... The first I would again, call a shadow play of a story... The second is well known within hundreds of tales.. and it doesn't change the issue of choice one iota -- since we're then watching the tale to find out what choices the character made to reach that ending we already know.  ("Memento" leaps to mind, but there's also "Titanic", Pinter's "Betrayal" and the whole Conan cycle.)

Thus my main point: all of this (short of the hoop jumping of playing out the tale of a character and being judged by how well you do it), is common, frequent and quite normal.  I'm not seeing anything new here really.

Take care,
Christopher

[Marco]

Gee,

And here I was only going to post to say "I agree" to Marco. If I understand correctly, you're corroborating my samurai examples in the Simulationism essay.

I'll do that and quick get outta here before the "knife protrudes from chest" becomes more than mere example.

Best,
Ron

Okay, good!

That would mean, then, that in the case of a fatalistic character (as with Picard in pete's example--a case where it's so damn clear what the character would do in a given instance) then the result won't (likely) be narrativism.

The only way Narrativist play can happen is when the threshold of decision--the degree of magnitude of the question--is close ot the character's and player's wavering point on it.

If it's close to the player's but not the character's (i.e. this is what my character--because of already, in play, pre-determined continuity--would do, but I find it abhorent) then you (may) get a pissed off player.

[ Example: I've been playing Judge Dredd for several weeks and the GM presents me with a choice of executing young children to uphold The Law (TM) ]

If the decision threshold is close to the character's, but not the player's then it would seem you get simulationism.

[ Example: I've been playing a squeamish character who has evidenced qualms about killing. She has a really choice chance to stab to death a pure-evil cultist in cold blood. My player is really willing to do this--it's a theatrical moment for the character, but just going through the motions for the player. ]

If the decision threhold is below both the character's and the player's then it's also simulationism--just not all that dramatic (the character acts as you'd expect him to, the player doesn't grapple with the choices).

If I recall the samuari example it was referent to types of disadvantages that described a character? Code of Honor (a Psych limit) vs. Question of Honor (a fulcrum for a choice).

That's not exactly what I'm addressing here. In this case the game could be anything at all (the character might have no listed defect)--however the established pattern of the character (which I'll use instead of the player's conception since that's a hot-button issue for people) makes it, in each case, pretty clear what the character would do (and in the first case, you have a very strong personality trait that's so strong in the character that to even suggest the player have the character act in violation of it is abhorent to the player--not a recipie for functional gaming).

So that would seem to indicate to me that fatalistic or at least very definitively principled characters are not good for Narrativist play since if the decision they are presented with isn't above the level where the character and player will really engage with it, you get simulationism.

Do I have that right?
-Marco
Also note: I have to say "I've been playing" in each case to satisfy people who say "only as a result of things established through actual play can one judge the consistency of a character" -- however, this example seems to indicate to me that it's the engagement of the player (which is an internal state, evidenced to the observer, sure--but the player must either be internally engaged in the eithical question to make that appearent ... or be acting) that's important.

This would seem to factor out and allow un-spoken but still strongly held concpetions of character to be important to the theory since in this example, even if I haven't been playing my character at all, if the first premise defining choice I'm presented with doesn't engage me, then it'll be simulationist play.

[Ron Edwards]

Hi Marco,

Ummm ... no, now we're disagreeing. My take on so-called "fatalistic characters" is identical to Christopher's. In your previous post, when you wrote about:

if my character design places the threshold of decision (the point at which I as a player will make an interesting decision related to Premise) above the level the game reaches, then an observer will see that, while I am reacting to situation, I, as a player, am not engaged in the moral question of decision making.

... my interpretation of the phrase "character design" involves issues of mechanics and Stances, as discussed in my samurai examples in my essay. By "above the level the game reaches," I'm reading it to mean the behavior of the character is fixed in place by some aspect of the system or social contract.

However, if by "character design" you simply are referring to the character's projected moral profile, and that you have no intention (and this is borne out in play) of changing it, then we aren't agreeing at all. In that case, I simply point to Christopher's posts and to my reply to Nathan. Oh yeah - and I also stress that Narrativism vs. Simulationism, in such a case, is not interpretable until we look at the social interactions of the real people during actual play. So the answer to "N or S?" for your case (as I'm now seeing it) is, "Dunno."

Best,
Ron