“Dakota” represents for me some of my initial frustrations with interactive fictive texts like “Queers in Love at The End of The World.” Like “Queers in Love,” “Dakota” arrests readerly agency in the process of reading. Jessica Pressman deems this a “subversion” of “close-reading” in her book Digital Modernism (Pressman 97).
But, increasingly, I have been asking myself what the extent of transgressive digital texts does for the reader. From the perspective of reader response, the answer is seemingly well, little. The texts are frustrating, and at worst alienating, and though they may mirror the content of the subject matter they deal with, I am forced to wonder what the point of having a text that one cannot truly dig into is? Perhaps digital texts like these however should not be read in relation to “literature” and require a different logical parameter when approaching them.
What if “logical” is itself a false parameter by which to approach digital fiction? Seemingly, “Dakota” offers an immersive experience into fast-paced youth and drunken stupor. “Dakota” offers more of a feeling than a narrative, and embodies relations and sensations more than it does story. It’s disorienting use of fragmentation, flashing, and rhythmic drums offers something akin to, as Pressman states, a “cinematic” experience (Pressman 88).
I think this also prompts questions about readerly agency. In the CYOA books, readers for the most part were allowed to assert their own decision making within the story universe. But in Dakota, as Pressman acknowledges, the point of “Dakota” is antithetical to interactivity (Pressman 82). Especially in an age where we have so much individual control over our devices, Dakota seems to divorce us of that agency. But as a reader, I’m not sure I’d gravitate to fiction like that, even if I understand the creativity and thesis of the project.