dis plas' ment, n. 6. in psychiatry, the transference of an emotion to a logically inappropriate object.

I haven't played in games with a game where the players had a huge amount of authorial power--but I've suspected for some time that:

Narrativist play would be more like the experience of writing a novel.

Simmulationist play would be more like the experience of reading one.

I suspect that writers have less emotional attention to their characters than a reader might feel (that is, a writer knows that he's going to kill off a character earlier, usually, than the reader--and he does it for story-based reasons where as the reader may simply feel the loss of an identified-with character).

-Marco

Hello,

I generally agree with Marco's comments, but I also want to say more about Jack's point.

I am not convinced that a literal definition of role-playing exists to be displaced from. It's much like "sculpture" or any other art form, in which many pieces of art exist that certainly conform to the term, but also many that seem to be on the border with other art forms, or (especially according to other sculptors) are well outside that border.

At present, I look across a wide spectrum of activity that any number of people call "role-playing," and I see a whole lotta different things going on. The label has lost literal meaning, if it ever had any, and has become more of a tag or category into which these many different activities are stuffed.

Thus I don't see (say) Narrativism as being "less" role-play-ey than (say) Simulationism. The former may involve a different sort of character-identification and character-direction than the latter, certainly.

Best,
Ron

That's interesting. I do get the sense that Narrativist approaches tend to make the character less important to the player than either of the other two. This may be a limited perspective, however.

If a novel is well written, I do identify with characters, although not always the protagonist. I have been deeply moved at the loss of those characters. However, when I am writing a story, I don't have the same sense of loss. Perhaps that is because I expect the character to die (I would hope I have an idea of what was going to happen).

While Narrativists may care deeply about their characters, are they more willing to sacrifice them for the sake of story? If I were playing, say, Rolemaster, I would be trying to keep my character alive. If I were playing Wyrd, I would be trying to develop an epic. The goal is different, so the personification is different.

I have players who still recount stories from fifteen years ago, and the situations that occurred with their characters. They don't remember the rolls, but they remember the outcome, the dialogue, the interactions. (I do create good stories). But part of the drama is having them so totally invested in the character that they WANT them to live, breathe, survive. Is this personal attachment something that is lost in pure Narrativist approaches? I get the impression that it is.

Is this a key to distinguishing styles, or stances, or what? Or is it unrelated? Please elaborate, since my posts lately have a tendency to kill threads.

Skippy

Hey Skippy,

Actually, I like your posts a lot and was hoping to follow up on some of them. So let me use this one to counter the trend of Death by Skippiness.

Here's my take on the issue at hand. I think that "caring" about a character (whether this is expressed as suspension of disbelief, immersion, acting-technique, simple commitment to play every Thursday, or whatever) is not necessarily correlated with character survival. All of your examples of someone "not caring" seem to involve instances of character death.

Yet it seems to me that this is an artifact of historical game design, not a fundamental property of role-playing. It is an artifact of character-death equalling player-losing, or player-silencing, or player-can't-play. We are so used to the idea that if Bartholemew dies, Bob is effectively removed from the gaming table, but this is a convention, not a given, of role-playing.

An application of game design that permits the player still to participate even though the character dies (and never mind kluges like resurrection, I mean Dead-death) awaits a good thumping on the Design forum one day. I'll stick to topic to say this:

Caring about one's character is a function of the goals of play. Speaking only in terms of my own tastes in play, some characters "beg to die well," and it is a function of my caring (or rather, of the caring of all of us at the table) that they indeed die. It may interest you that as a GM I have put players into situations in which they must choose about this issue, with some pressure. Thus the goals of play, that these characters be protagonists in a story of merit, are being met - and it is up to the players to decide whether that includes character death.

Therefore it seems to me that people don't need to equate a willingness or even complicity in a character's death with a lack of caring about the imagined situation, or imagined person. As I said before, it's almost certainly not the same kind of caring one gets in some other styles of play; I am familiar with those modes of play in which a character's death is literally traumatic for the player. But to perceive this willingness/complicity in PC death as not caring at all (or perceiving caring only to be a function of the desire for the PC not to die), I'd say, is incorrect.

Best,
Ron

Let me follow up what Ron said by also saying that Narrativists wouldn't "sacrifice the character for the story" because the character is the story. Without the PCs, there is no story, so you can't possibly sacrifice them. You can certainly load on the bad stuff--I always beg my GMs to throw as much bad stuff onto my characters as they can, & I always throw my characters into bad situations. Because as the protagonists, what my characters do, how they handle those situations, makes the stories. Sometimes I want my character to have a happy ending, sometimes a not-so-happy ending. But I always want to story to be about my character.

Okay, I think I understand what you are saying, and I'm both agreeing and disagreeing.

Now, as both a player and a GM, I have thouroughly enjoyed both life and death in character. As a GM, there have been times when (using a gamist? approach) I have killed characters simply because the dice said it was time to go. I haven't done that for about eight years. My style is to create a metaplot, and allow the players to develop that at their own speed. We have spent many sessions exploring stories that my players have created on their own. By giving them that freedom, I am free to explore new aspects of world and story that I couldn't without them. Unfortunately, I am constantly scrapping mechanics that don't fit with my approach. (Honestly, Rolemaster just isn't a fit for me anymore.)

Back to topic: I think you have answered the question, in that it would be erroneous to say that Narrativists care less about their characters than Gamists do, just as it would be erroneous to say that Gamists care less about a good plot than Narrativists. These are broad generalizations, and unfair statements. So a revised question would be:

If it is vital to the story, would a Narrativist approach be more willing to sacrifice a character than a Gamist? But even that doesn't sound quite fair, now that I see it on the screen in front of me...

Here's the thrust. I am currently working on a concept that requires player sacrifice as a mechanic. The goal is to ramp up the risk, drama, and potential for loss of character, but offset by increased story potential, and in-character potential for "magic", if you will. If a character pushes the limit, he may be able to accomplish truly heroic, virtually supernatural effects. However, the associated risk is equally great. Characters in this concept do not die, but are transformed into an unplayable form, which is effectively the same thing. This somewhat walks the tightrope between Nar and Gam, in that it uses a challenge mentality (risk, overcoming the balance) to pursue a story and increase drama.

Moose's game Wyrd deals with continuing sacrifice (for the sake of this argument). The character loses himself over time as fate trickles away. The compensation for this is an ever-increasing legend, and generations to recount it.

So to my mind, provided suitable satisfaction can be gained from the sacrifice, a Nar based approach could make this concept palatable, true? I phrased my initial statement poorly, I think, but it did help me clear my cobwebs.

Would this type of game be enjoyable, knowing that a strong overtone of sacrifice exists, and that characters may be called upon to lose themselves to save the greater good? I suppose that those risks are always present in a game like D&D, anyway, but perhaps not so overtly.

There's a question in there somewhere, I'm sure.

Skip

Skippy,

One of the difficulties here is that none of the GNS categories can be considered one, basic, set of role-playing values. Each one has a whole ton of sub-categories or applications.

But that said, I agree with you, or more clearly, answer your question with a big Yes. A Narrativist-based approach (note, I didn't say "the," but "a") would do very nicely if character death were a means of player-empowerment in some way. A good example from film is the death of Obi-Wan Kenobi in Star Wars, basically (in the terms of my essay) trading off Effectiveness "power" for Metagame "power."

You phrased your question in two ways, asking (1) whether such a system or mechanic would be "palatable," and (2) whether it would be "enjoyable." I am not sure how those two terms are different in role-playing, so I'll treat it as one question. Again, I'd vote a big fat Yes. Design it up and I'd be interested in playing.

Best,
Ron

P.S. (editing this in) Your last post stated that you both agreed and disagreed with my point. However, reading the thread all over, I can't see where you disagree. All of your points seem to be agreeing. Clarify?

P.P.S. I'm also concerned that we've strayed badly from Jack's topic. Jack, should we move the caring-about-character issue elsewhere?

[ This Message was edited by: Ron Edwards on 2001-12-27 11:53 ]

Hey Skip,

I am currently working on a concept that requires player sacrifice as a mechanic. The goal is to ramp up the risk, drama, and potential for loss of character, but offset by increased story potential, and in-character potential for "magic", if you will....Would this type of game be enjoyable...

The answer is yes, as long as you avoid the possibility that the ultimate sacrifice deprotagonizes the character.

"Oh...you rolled a botch...he's dead. No effect...sorry."

The big risk needs to have failure options that still work to advance the story. Perhaps the player's character gets to frame one last ghostly scene with a loved one or something.

Paul

[ This Message was edited by: Paul Czege on 2001-12-27 13:01 ]

In answer to Ron's question: As my thoughts developed over the course of the post, my position changed. Sorry for the confusion. I seem to be in agreement with you.

In answer to Paul's excellent question: The risk associated with less than ultimate sacrifice is failure. Ultimate sacrifice has no failure, only loss of character. I intend to have a metagame mechanic that ensures at least partial success.

The concept of this game is based on absolutes- only success or failure, no in-between, except in the case of sacrifice. There are varying degrees of sacrifice, and the intent is not to have every character die at the climax. However, there is greater risk of that happening at the climax.

I apologize for hijacking this thread. Perhaps my questions would have been more appropriate to the GNS forum. I appreciate everyone indulging me here, however.

Thank you,

Skip

For clarity, Ron and Josh, you would agree that a character death at the end of a story arc would be acceptable to most Narrativists. Heck, I love getting my character offed at a particualrly appropriate moment. As a Simmie playing CoC this is a regular goal of mine (what kind of Cthulhu simulation is complete without lots of gory death? I feel obliged to comply).

Mike

Hey Skip,

It seems like you've got the ultimate sacrifice part nailed down, but without knowing the details, I'd hazard that the absolutes thing for all other conflict resolution might make the game uninteresting to Narrativists. The problem is that failure that doesn't advance the narrative in some way as an outcome of conflict resolution is deprotagonizing to the character. Characters stand around like nitwits, swinging and missing, or hitting and doing no damage, or trying multiple times to accomplish the same task. The character becomes deprotagonized. What a Narrativist wants is for every conflict resolution to advance the narrative, even failures. Creating adversity as an outcome of taking a failure is the way to go.

Bartholomew swings his bludgeon at Sebastian, and rolls a failure. It doesn't go "whiff"...but rather the GM describes an outcome, "Sebastian stops the downward blow by grabbing your upraised arm at the wrist, and prepares to bury his dagger in your gut with his left hand."

The reason death in Call of Cthulhu isn't in automatically deprotagonizing is that it can be a player goal. It proves that you really did know too much. Flat character loss, whether it's death or not, that aborts whatever narrative the player was working up with the character, rather than resolves it, is deprotagonizing.

Paul

Mike,

I must have been unclear. I am describing character death as a definite and functional form of player enjoyment in Narrativist terms. I am also suggesting that this act can represent caring greatly about that character.

Best,
Ron

I am describing character death as a definite and functional form of player enjoyment in Narrativist terms. I am also suggesting that this act can represent caring greatly about that character.

And whoever it was that wrote Spock back to life for the movies after The Wrath of Khan didn't understand this.

Paul

P.P.S. I'm also concerned that we've strayed badly from Jack's topic. Jack, should we move the caring-about-character issue elsewhere?

Back to displacement we go, then. (Another thread about Dead-death and caring and all that would be spunky, unless everyone is satisfied with how it stands.)

I wrote about this on GO a long time ago. I set up a conceptual spectrum, as follows. On one end you are playing a fictional version of "yourself," much as in Villains & Vigilantes or Stuperpowers. You could even go further, extending the end past where it's been taken previously, and make up "yourself" with no frills and have that be the character. In fact, I recall from a GURPS a.p.a. in the 80s that people would introduce themselves with a personal writeup based on 100 points.

On the other end, you are playing a one-step-removed, double-layer character, as in Morpheus, Hong Kong Action Theater, the WEG Tales from the Crypt, or Extreme Vengeance. In these games, Bob is the player, some character or abstract persona is what he plays from session to session, and Bartholemew is a character who happens to be the expression of that persona in a given instance. To clarify, in Morpheus, my "character" is hooked to a VR tank, hallucinating these wild adventures with his character, who might be a cartoony barbarian type. I, Ron, am playing this guy playing his character, and the "intermediate" doesn't even have a name; I don't care much about him, but am having a blast playing Dildo the Barbarian.

Most role-playing games, of course, fall in between these two ends of the spectrum, in that the character is "one layer" from the player, as well as being a different person (fictional entity). I suggest that this spectrum is heavily graded, rather than being composed of discrete points or categories.

Whew. OK, before moving onto consequences, meanings, and applications of the spectrum, any thoughts about it? Rabid disagreements? Effusive praise?

Best,
Ron

To extend the spectrum, Scott Knipe's Human Wreckage was to have the following layers: Player, Film Director, Film Director's favorite Lead Actor, and the Role of the Lead.

Whew! Talk about layers.

Mike