In “The Many Forms of Interactivity,” Ryan dissects the phenomena of ‘interactivity,’ suggesting that the term is not so straightforward as it may first appear. In her discussion of the varying types of interactivity–the variety of which could constitute several blog posts–Ryan states that “the purpose of interactivity is to probe the field of the possible for its own sake” (163). This quote summarizes my current feelings towards the field of online narration: overwhelmed with the vast possibilities. However, I am also excited by the results of comparing this new digital field with the field of tactile literature, of which I am familiar. A close look at a few of Ryan’s forms of interactivity reveals new meaning between these forms of literature.
Within her discussion of ‘Interactive Structures,’ Ryan touches on ‘The Vector,’ which is the most similar to narrative in that it is linear and causal. Ryan proposes that “there is still something magic about summoning new information to the screen as a result of physical action–magic because it takes hidden, mysterious code to mediate between the gesture of the hand and its visible effect” (165). This quote reminded me of our discussion in class about whether we participate in online games for the narrative storyline or to feed our fascination with the technological structure of the game. I also wonder if we have this same thought-process in regards to printed literature? While I’ve often wondered how online stories are formed, I can’t recall a time that I’ve questioned the process of writing a novel. I think this distinction between reading for plot versus experience also feeds into Ryan’s discussion of the levels of interactivity; she divulges that game players often differ from traditional readers in that they do not play for the narrative story but rather for the aesthetics of the game’s competition (181).
Ultimately, I am intrigued by the malleability of online narration that printed literature does not always afford. How would the experience of reading change if novels took on ‘The Network’ format in which multiple nodes allow us to bypass chronological narration (i.e. meet again with a character who had died in a previous story node (167))? Similarly, how would ‘The Vector,’ category’s ability to incorporate audio and additional documents enhance our relationship with print? Is it the responsibility of print literature to ‘keep up’ with the advances of the digital age or can the traditional ways prevail? Perhaps throughout the course of this class we will find that such a dichotomy need not exist.