Clash of Clans “Story of the [Unattainable] Quest”: A Promising New Model for IFs?

Viewing the nearly antiquated experiences associated with hypertextual narratives in comparison to FPS-esque games and MMOs suggests a point of further inquisition and study that I think is worthy of attention. (I am bridging connections between some of the characteristics of FPSs with MMOs, as the quotations directed from this chapter apply to both, simultaneously.)

As we have learned, narrative scripts can be relayed in either diagetic, mimetic, or an enacted mode. The third, concerning digital literacies, according to Marie-Laure Ryan, is “enacted not for the benefit of an audience, as is the case in drama, but as a self-rewarding activity.” Throughout Chapter 28 (A Companion to Digital Humanities), this “reward” is mentioned and questioned, but never fully answered. Perhaps the answer to what this reward (or motivation) is can influence a reconfiguration of digital texts/IFs/hypertexts in a way that will engage the user to replay the narrative.

One game narrative that seems to withstand the test of time is the game narrative that never ends. The chapter includes commentary on The Sims, which is an example of this game narrative. Though somewhat outdated in comparison to the game culture of 2015, The Sims is still popularly played. However, the analysis of the game in coordination with its narrativity is similarly applicable to Clash of Clans. This is one of the most highly rated and most played MMO strategy video games since its release in 2012, which may prove to be more helpful in the search for what makes this particular game narrative popular and sustainable.

As Ryan brings to our attention, IFs “can develop very imaginative scripts that spice up the solving of problems with narrative interest [but] offer very little incentive to re-enter their world once the game has been beaten.” Well, what if the IF can’t be beat?

Is it possible to create an IF with “the story of the quest” that is ultimately unattainable? This speaks to Hayden White (1987) and his critique of a narrative’s “blindness…to the complexity of the problem of truth.” Ryan’s summary of White’s argument is simply that “narrative is not a reliable way to gain knowledge about the past, because it always involves a fabrication. Reality, he claims, does not offer itself to perception in the shape of a story.”

Like The Sims, Clash of Clans is one of the “God” games, where the player is in control of their clan base. There is no “beating the game” with either of these games, which could provide the point of motivation for continuing to play in comparison to IFs. Instead of “beating the game,” these narratives consist of overcoming various challenges, completing achievements, and, in Clash of Clans, winning/losing battles/wars. There is no end to the game. As players progress their clans and bases, the program continues to build the narrative as the players advance.

Why, if these games are never able to beat, are they so popular? I think that White’s argument plays into the possible answer for this. If we are making the analogy of game narratives (or classical narrative) to truths of reality (i.e. life), then IFs and classical narratives are unrealistic. Reality can’t be beat and life can’t be beat. Perhaps the motivation for playing “the story of the quest” presents more of a connection to the reality and truths of the narrative of our own lives: overcoming challenges, achievements, winning and losing. What if IFs were able to create this same narrative or mirror these basic constituents of them?

FPS, and, arguably, MMO “stories…remain in a virtual state until they are mentally replayed” (Ryan). Even though these games “are played over and over again, players rarely ‘replay’ in their minds the story of a game, because these stories only differ from each other” in trivial details (Ryan). While “the stories they generate are worth experiencing in the first person but rarely worth telling to a third party” (Ryan). Clash of Clans refutes this by forcing collaboration between its players and introducing the collective first person. Collaboration between players is forced by individual users having to attack other clan bases and by other users attacking one’s own base. There is no control over who attacks your base. As a result, you have to attack other clan bases in order to sustain your own clan. It isn’t possible to advance the game narrative if the collaboration between players is non-existent. Additionally, as clan bases advance and upgrade, it becomes difficult to stand alone in the Clash world. One must join a clan. Once in the clan, all members can look at each other’s bases, donate troops, go to war, share replays of attacks, and participate in the clan chat. It is constantly collaborative. It is so much so that I know of clans that choose to also meet outside of the clan chat in person and discuss the game narrative, their own experiences, the collective clan experience, layout strategies, attack styles, and troop fulfillment. The greater a clan works together, the more successful the clan will be. This also goes directly back to White’s argument of narrative reality. While the game is fictitious, collaborating with others, learning to ask for donations, sending help to others, problem-solving, dealing with victories as well as losses, and more, are all experiences of the multiple truths of reality (i.e. working together as a community for a purpose). This collaboration is certainly a motivation for continuing to participate and co-create the game narrative as it exists in real time. What if IFs were able to extend this same type of collaboration that seems to be so popular?

If, as Ryan argues, “the motivation of…players is much more narrative than that which drives the players of FPS’s [and MMOs],” then I think that there are two important elements of a successful narrative that seems to foreground the base of player motivation: “the story of the quest” and player/narrative collaboration. If the IF world were to reconfigure the way that game narratives are constructed and tailored the narrative to player’s motivations (as those above), perhaps IFs would have a greater presence in the gaming world. However, this brings into play an entirely different argument of whether or not it is possible, considering the limitations of IFs (recognized vocabulary, number of rooms, actions, etc.). Is it even possible to suggest this reconfiguration with the given platform of IFs? What will happen to IFs if they do not adapt to the motivations of its players? While I have no answers, I think that these points are ones that shouldn’t be dismissed.

Tech-Impaired Anonymous

Hi. My name is Michaela (audience members: “Hi, Michaela”) and I am technologically handicapped. My support groups consists of online forums with equally technologically-retracted human beings who also do not know the answers to my questions. My personal readings outside of our assigned readings have been PDF excerpts of HTML for Dummies that are scattered online. This is the 5th attempt at posting this blog post from two weeks ago, which has somehow led to “failure: internal data corruption” or similar variant pop-ups between clicking on the “Publish” button on my computer screen and what should ideally happen. Thankfully, my tech-handicap has taught me (the hard way) to save and re-save multiple back-ups of things.

This is where I’ve been.

I have been trying to pull both sides of my brain into working together with this stuff, but it is difficult. I am sharing my difficulty with technology in this blog not only to excuse my lack of blogging, but because I feel that even though our students are, most likely, more tech-savvy than we are, there are moments such as the ones that I am having, that address our students daily within our classrooms–either with or without technology.

I think one of the most important things that I have realized from my experiences thus far with all of the programs, code, intricate readings saturated with tech terms, and IF frustrations, that turning on to
technology doesn’t have to be such a turn off for the tech-impaired.

In some ways, I think that I have been focusing on the wrong aspect of these tools.  I shouldn’t drown myself in code or alien data language or (insert techy jargon quip here) to locate a deeper understanding of the Digital Humanities Web Experience. It is much more than the foundations that lead the way to an entirely different hierarchical level of critical thinking.

In other ways, I am finding some different perspectives on digital humanization. When attempting to blog and comment on others’ sites after the first few blogs (which were magically problem-free), I noticed that though I had been participating by reading other blogs and formulating my own responses, I feel like I had been missing out because my work or coordinating responses were not “published.” I’m not sure how to put my finger on it, but the act of engaging through this interface requires the Lacanian “Big Other” to make it count.

While I still grapple with meaningful ways to incorporate the discussion board (as I am doing in my classes right now) and genuinely participate in them (such as this blog), I’m OK with the fact that I’m still not quite sure where these things land for me or how to articulate them within the larger theme of this class.
However, I do know that picking up a bunch of tools because they are on sale and expanding the toolbox
isn’t going to make me a better educator. But, I also realize that these tools must fit a purpose.

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