Category: Group D

Her Story is a video game in which you use a database to try and piece together the murder of Simon, the player’s fathers. In my opinion, Her Story is not your stereotypical type of video game for many reasons. When you first start playing the game, there is not a clear finishing point or marker that you have to achieve; you don’t really know when you are approaching the end of the game, which frustrated me. In addition, at the beginning of the game you know that you are trying to piece together a murder case but you do not know why. It is only when you have watch most, if not all of the videos that the game reveals that the character in which you are playing is  Eve’s daughter and the reason she is trying to piece together the murder. She is trying to understand the actions of her mother. In more stereotypical video games, the main objective of the game is usually pretty clear and laid out at the beginning of the game.

Secondly, in most video games you leave the game feeling pretty accomplished and settled.  However, after finishing this game I felt unsettled and questioned if I truly understood the storyline of the murder. At first, I thought that Eve was a figment of Hannah’s imagination, and then towards the end of the game I believed that Eve was her identical twin sister, who had gotten pregnant by Simon. However, after playing the game I thought that maybe Hannah had had a spilt personality, and at some points she would become Eve after looking at her reflection in the mirror. Even though, I was pretty sure that Eve was Hannah identical twin, I still had doubts if that was the case or if she had a spilt personality. As a result, I still felt unsettled after “finishing” the video game unlike the feeling I would have after finishing more stereotypical video games. In addition, I thought that the background music when you were not watching a clip and the background of Hannah with the police sirens (that would sometime come up after you finish watch a clip) were pretty ominous.

Lastly, using a database to try and understand and piece together the murder was a unique way of solving a mystery video game. “Cactus Blue Hotel” was kind of like a mystery interactive twine video game, and the methods for you to understand why the motel was not just your average motel was completely different from having a database system.  In that game you had to go to people’s apartments and talk to them to understand the mystery of the game. While when playing “Her Story”, you had to enter words that seemed related to the crime and see if new videos appears. In watching the new videos, I would be on the lookout for new key words and people to try and piece together the murder, which I think is pretty neat and an innovate and more interactive way of piecing together Simon’s murder. In addition, I think “Her Story” is an example of how the databases could be used to form a narrative.

To conclude, I believe that “Her Story” is not your stereotypical video game.

As a computer science major, I have had the opportunity to interact with databases, data structures and algorithms. From my perspective, I see databases as the powerhouse all of the things that we interact in our daily lives. With the COVID-19 crisis, we are interacting with social media more than ever. I have noticed recently that I have got a lot more notification from Snapchat, Facebook, and Instagram more than ever. This is due to the databases that power your texts, and making sure that your data stays there safe/unsafe depending on the “terms” that you are giving your data to these corporations, but one thing to realize that is that with school going online, more people go online and play video games.

It must be noted that games are narratives, and that games are made possible by databases. There are many examples of how databases are the backbone of narrative. Think of films, for example. Combining multiple recordings and video cuts, directors create movies, which are undoubtedly narratives.

On the other hand, Manovich in his book The Language of New Media argues that “rather than trying to correlate database and narrative forms with modern media and information technologies, or deduce them from these technologies, I prefer to think them as two competing imaginations, two basic creative impulses, two essential responses to the world.” Based on my observation, I think it is quite faulty not to correlate databases and narrative forms with modern media as databases are almost every where in today’s world.

In addition, if we look at history and how our brains work, it is quite unfair to argue that databases and narratives could be separated. In short, it can be said that narratives are a product of the human brain, part of the human creativity and imagination. It’s reasonable to argue that human brain is a large database that registers every piece of information that it sees. It knows how an animal looks like, and uses its creativity to create “religious” narratives and make gods seem like an amalgamation of two animals. Isn’t it fair to argue then that databases and narratives are allies rather than enemies when we look at it outside of the modern media and information technologies?

I believe that Manovich’s argument needs more support when it argues that databases are competing with narratives. I invite him to consider many more examples where databases go hand in hand with narratives.

As a little kid, Adobe Flash Player could have been one software that I had to download the most. While surfing in the internet finding new games in website like Miniclip.com, the Flash Player would either break or require an update before running the game. Just like most of the kids at the time, I saw the Flash Player as a tool for playing games, but after my encounter with “Dakota” and reading “Kinetic and Interactive Poetry,” my perception of the Flash Player has completely changed.

The internet has allowed us to discover new ways for us to express our feelings through new forms of media, and not surprisingly, as the internet evolved, authors and poets explored conventional techniques to convey their ideas. For instance, the early hypertext authors utilized features such as web page linking to immerse the reader in an interactive story. With the arrival of the Flash Player, authors have shifted how they look at producing online. In Flash, Salter and Murray explain that Flash producers “took the affordances of the platform and the expectations users brought to Flash works and subverted them, or broke out of the affordances and created new systems for their art.” In that sense, Flash authors followed the same pattern as the hypertext creators. They were fearless to use the affordances of the platform to try new things even though the experimentation might fail miserably.

To explore one of the first examples of Flash literary works, I viewed “Dakota”, created by two artists Young-Hae Chang and Marc Voge. Unlike the hypertext works that we explored earlier in the semester, the creators expected the users not to interact with, but to view the content. While words and short phrases are being thrown at me, I felt like I was watching an action movie and trying to catch up with what’s going on in the story line. In Electronic Literature, Rettberg claims that “the use of typographic effects is minimal and controlled, but the pace at which the words are displayed is often very rapid, pushing at the limits of how quickly we can read and absorb the meaning of the words.” Although the idea to direct one’s attention to a couple of words for a couple of second was interesting, I found it quite challenging to understand whether the words being shown make sense. I could see the artist’s intention to challenge in what speeds we could absorb the content being shown at us. It could have been that Chang and Voge were criticizing the pace of information being thrown at us in the information age, but I would have appreciated if the producers included a slide button that would have allowed me to speed the narrative down.

Yet I wasn’t a big fan of “Dakota”, I need to highlight that it made me look at the Flash Player in the ways I haven’t considered before. For me, Flash was just a tool for eye candy and games, but now I also consider it as a medium for kinetic poetry.

The simplicity yet the difficulty of Dakota engages the reader deeply. As both Rettberg and Pressman note, the creator of Dakota purposely avoids the interactivity present in many electronic literature pieces. While at the first I thought the lack of interactive elements in Dakota would make it quite boring, it was one of the most engaging works we have read this semester. Unlike many of the interactive works we have discussed such as Abra: A Living Text, Dakota has a deep meaning based on a traditional work of literature. Many of the works we have explored this semester have used the digital space to merely make their work interactive, but this did not always add depth to the piece. Many creators have used technology to just add flashy elements to literature rather than push and adapt the art of literature itself. Interactivity is present within traditional literature with Choose Your Own Adventure Books; Dakota avoided this element to push the bounds of literature rather than just expand it to the digital space.

Chang states, “no graphics or graphic design; no photos; no banners; no millions-of-colors; no playful fonts; no pyrotechnics. I have a special dislike for interactivity.” (Pressman 82). This quote by the author of Dakota shows the intention behind its simple design. Technology allows the author of electronic literature to add plenty of graphics and visual aids but this does not always add to a story. Compared to Abra: A Living Text, Dakota has a much simpler design but also a more complex meaning. The most interesting thing about Abra: A Living Text was the graphics and colors, rather than the actual words within the work itself.

Besides lacking interactivity, Dakota stands out among all other works from this class as it uses the digital space to completely change the way one goes about reading and interpreting literature. The difficulty of actually reading and analyzing Dakota adds a whole new activity and element to literature. Many works of traditional literature are difficult to interpret and analyze due to the complex and formal writing, but the speed reading used in Dakota makes it almost impossible to merely read the text. The piece uses the digital sphere to bring a new element to life traditional literature cannot. This work urged me to expand my idea of electronic literature as it does not only bring literature to the digital sphere but it changes and alters the very basis of literature itself.

Work Cited:

Amaranth Borsuk, Kate Durbin, and Ian Hatcher, Abra: a living text (2017)

Jessica Pressman, “Speed Reading” from Digital Modernism: Making It New in New Media (2014), pp. 78-100

Rettberg, “Kinetic and Interactive Poetry” from Electronic Literature, pp. 137-143

Young-hae Chang Heavy Industries, Dakota (2002)

This section of the class, The Random and Automatic, has mainly consisted of a series of games that have predetermined ends and/ or story lines.  These game creators have taken out the need for the player to choose- good news for indecisive gamers!  However, this prompts the question of whether or not this is an effective method of game design.

An important point to note in Dakota is the lack of choice the game provides.  It is more of a story told in motion- in my opinion.  This method of story telling reminded me much of “This is How You Will Die”.  Although these games had two very different story plots, they were very similar in the lack of choice the game design provided to the player.

In class, we talked a lot about the aesthetic components of games.  More specifically, we used Twitter bots to compare aesthetics.  The Twitter bots we talked about in class had very different looks; for example, @robotrecipies used a seemingly standard Twitter format.  This did not draw much attention from various viewers as each tweet just looked like the next.  However, each tweet from @factbot1 had a picture that corresponded to the fact that was displayed in the tweet.  Having various images captured my attention more than other bots we looked at.  I think this is a good comparison to Dakota as we can also discuss this games aesthetic properties.  Dakota uses large words flashing across the screen to capture the viewers attention. The goal of having the words flash across the screen fast is to get the viewer to feel involved in the piece, however Jessica Pressman discusses this in varying views.  “(H)is success can be attributed to its simple, minimalist and, indeed, modernist aesthetic. This aesthetic, I argue, has the effect of compelling viewers to close read. The flashing text pro-motes speed-reading while its literary content demands an opposite response” (Pressman, 79).

The minimalism Pressman points out is very interesting to me.  I think that she is right in saying the the very plain text design requires the viewer to focus more on the words that are popping up on the screen as opposed to anything else on the screen or otherwise potentially distracting from the words.  This is very different than the Abra: a living text  app we played.  This app had a lot going on, and many of the components (not all on the screen at the same time) added to the chaos.  I was pretty confused when playing this game as there were so many possibilities the game provided that I did not know where to begin.  I like that Dakota had much less going on, but at the same time wish there was more.  I wonder if there is a better method to clear up this grey area I speak of?

Works Cited:

Jason Nelson, “This is How You Will Die” (2005)

Amaranth Borsuk, Kate Durbin, and Ian Hatcher, Abra: a living text (2017)

Young-hae Chang Heavy Industries, Dakota (2002)

Jessica Pressman, “Speed Reading” from Digital Modernism: Making It New in New Media (2014), pp. 78-100

“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.

In our last unit “The Variable”, we learned that a common characteristic that Twine games share is limitation of choice. Often this limitation of choice can force players to have an emotional experience and to develop empathy, for example, we saw how the limitation of choice in “Will Not Let Me Go” forced players to experience Alzheimer’s through Fred’s eyes.  Now in Dakota, this limitation of choice takes on a new function and purpose. 

“Dakota”  is literary animation that was produced in Flash. Rettberg  in Electronic Literature  describes Flash as a “multimedia software platform” that was seen as a “movie-based production metaphor”. On the other hand, “Dakota” displays black text on a white background and contains no graphics and animations. As mentioned in “Speed Reading”, the creators of “Dakota” ,Young-hae Chang Heavy Industries (YHCHI),  aimed for minimalism and therefore did not want to include anything that may want to distract the reader away from the text.  Since the game includes no graphics or any intricate design, the reader is forced to only focus on the text of the animation and to “close read”.

In the first half of this class we explored hypertext text fiction and how interactivity is a common element these text. For example, we have explored the interactive work of “Queers in Love at the End of the World”. On the hand, Dakota would not be classified as a hypertext electronic literature work due to it’s  lack of interactivity; there are no instances in the animation where the reader can participate. As a result,  there is limitation of choice in “Dakota”. This lack of interactivity then forces the reader to concentrate on text presented in front of them. Pressman states that “ “Dakota” resist the alignment with electronic literature with hypertext and,and favor the foregrounding of text and typography”.  When playing “Dakota”, I felt that I paid a lot of attention to the text because there were no interactive elements and I also had no control of the timing of the work. Since I did not have any control, all I could do was try and pay close attention to the text, even though I could not  keep up the text at some moments.  Thirdly, I definitely paid more attention to the text in “Dakota” in comparison  to “Queers in Love at the End of the World” . Since “Queers in Love at the End of the World” is a timed hypertext fiction, I felt the need to click  on the hypertext words and create as many stories as I could within those 10 seconds. As a result, I did not pay that much attention to the text itself. Therefore this demonstrates how limitation of choice forces the reader to really pay attention to the text itself. 

To conclude, limitation of choice can be used as a technique to get readers to pay greater attention to the text presented in front of them.  

In a movie, speed can make a film more action packed, and can sometimes even leave your audience behind if done improperly. Dakota is a Flash literary animation that uses speed, but with the purpose of locking in attention, even if the audience gets lost in the process. Immediately as you start the work, music begins to pick up with the background changing with the beat. Following that, a countdown begins, alternating between numeric and character representations of the numbers, hinting at the chaos to come. Soon after the countdown, the title appears, only to immediately descend into chaos as words start flashing on the screen at high rates of speed. Even if it feels fast at the start, the words flash faster and faster as you progress through the piece, matched with the music in the background. Large font and fast paced music and transitions leaves the audience overwhelmed as they try to piece together what is occurring, leaving no time to truly process the references or comparisons they made. It was difficult enough just to keep up with the actions that were taking place. In Speed Reading, Jessica Pressman goes into detail how Dakota is based off of The Cantos. In the beginning, it starts off mid sentence just like in The Cantos, but many parts of the poetry is mirrored in Dakota, but at such a high rate of speed, that it is impossible to appreciate the comparisons that were being made.

Because of the difficulty in close reading, the fast music, and rapid animation, it is hard to call this piece a traditional literary work, however, the focus on text also means it cannot be excluded from being a literary work. Therefore, it sits in this middle ground, not a film, and not a literary work. And yet, that is the benefit of electronic works, Dakota combines both the traditional work of playing off of previous pieces, and yet creatively puts it into a riveting electronic form that holds its audience’s attention.

After completing our Choose Your Own Adventure project, I felt quite sad that this form of text has almost completely faded from society. I was very wrong; Choose Your Own Adventure books have not disappeared but rather evolved. As Salter points out in Playing for Empathy, Twine games are known for being “an open-source tool for telling interactive nonlinear stories”. Similar to Choose Your Own Adventure novels, Twine allows you to have an internal ontological experience with a given set of choices digitally.

Twine games have upgraded Choose Your Own Adventure Texts by increasing the exploratory nature of the story. In Twine games such as Cactus Blue Hotel and 16 Ways to Kill a Vampire at McDonald’s, the reader is encouraged to explore their settings and talk to other characters. In addition, the story is constantly evolving as the reader continues the story the options given change and adapt to reflect the past chosen taken by the reader. Another difference between Twine and choose your own adventure books is the complexity of the narrative. What makes many Twine games appealing are the heavy topics explored and the mystery surrounding the plot. Unlike Choose Your Own Adventure books, in many Twine games the reader is unaware of their mission. It is only as the game unfolds that the reader is able to understand the main character and their motives.

The beauty of Twine is that it combines the ease of Choose Your Own Adventure books and the exploratory nature of earlier interactive literature games. When playing games such as Shade, I found myself quickly disinterested as I continued typing commands the game could not understand. On the other hand, when playing a Twine game such as Cactus Blue Hotel I was so truly immersed in the game due to its ease of use. I was easily able to explore the hotel and talk to the guests with a click of a mouse. The choice of options rather than typing out commands made the game move quickly and feel truly immersive. While playing Cactus Blue Hotel, I felt emotionally stuck in the game. I could not physically stand up until I was able to make it out of the hotel. The greatly immersive experience provided by Twine games allows readers to easily understand and connect with the main character.

Work Cited:

Abigail Corfman, 16 Ways to Kill a Vampire at McDonalds (2016)

Anastasia Salter, “Playing at Empathy: Representing and Experiencing Emotional Growth Through Twine Games” (2016)

Andrew Plotkin, “Shade” (2000)

Astrid Dalmady, Cactus Blue Hotel (2016)

As a to-be computer scientist, it is hard not to see the similarities between open source game and software creation. In resemblance to game development companies, software companies only allowed its employees to work on the company’s next milestone software project. In a Wired article, Bill Gates says “open source creates a license so that nobody can ever improve the software.” Even though technology tycoons have disliked open-source software, it has an huge impact on how we create software today. With its focus on innovation, customization, and collaboration, the open source community created fundamentally important software technologies such as the Mozilla Firefox Web Browser and Python Programming Language. Its impact in the industry is so predominant that Microsoft not only acquired GitHub, but also promised to improve the platform with a slogan chanted by Satya Nedalla: “We are all in on open source.”

Twine, an open-source platform for creating text-based computer games, has challenged the traditional practices of publishing computer games. Similar to open source software creation, game designers from all over the world could exercise their creativity on developing games on any topic. This allowed users to concentrate on topics that are usually not conveyed in computer games. In “Playing at Empathy”, Salter analyzes Twine games that are relevant to mental health and highlights an important feature of such games: limitations on choice. While playing “Please Answer Carefully“, one could see how limited choice plays into immersing the user into the mindset of a person, who is being stalked. Presented as a survey, where the reader is expected to have freedom over their choices, the game forces you to make decisions that benefits the stalkers. It expects you to strongly agree to the statement that everyone deserves a second chance no matter what they have done. Similarly, you are not given any freedom but to say that I forgive you, come inside in response to your stalker’s I miss you message.

While playing such games, I feel nothing but disoriented, stuck, and hopeless. If these games are targeted to solve our mental health issues, shouldn’t it be that they give us hope to fight our issues? In Gender and Technology, we discussed a similar case when Apple decided to remove a game called Phone Story that is aimed to reveal the miserable consequences of phone manufacturing. In one of the scenes, the user’s target is to save workers who are trying to commit suicide by jumping out of the FoxConn factory. Although Phone Story helped me become aware of the exploitation that runs in the hardware industry, it didn’t show me a path how to solve this issue. I believe Twine games are also similar in a sense that they portray that mental health is a critical problem in today’s world, but doesn’t show you how you would approach it to solve it. Creators of such games should think more critically not only to immerse the user into somebody’s mental problem, but also shed light on how to escape it.