It’s been brought to my attention that, in a previous post, I might come off as somewhat unkind to Orson Scott Card. That certainly wasn’t my intent. I’ve only read a few of his works, but I admit that what I’ve read so far has impressed me. Here’s why.
Ender’s Game
As far as I’m aware, this is pretty much Card’s seminal work. The presentation of the Battle School, Ender’s struggle as a ‘Third’, the characterization of Peter and the way in which the story ended broke a few rules and wrote some new ones. I recommend that anybody interested in writing speculative fiction in either the short or long form read this book if they haven’t already. It’s full of realistic characters, a well-realized future for humanity that’s within reason, and some pretty riveting conversation. Ender’s one very intense kid.
Enchantment
Orson Scott Card probably isn’t a name that springs to mind when you think of period romance or high adventure. However, Enchantment does a very good job of blending these elements. It’s Sleeping Beauty meets A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court with the legend of Baba Yaga mixed in for good measure. Along the lines of Ender’s Game, this is well worth the reading if you’re a fan of or interested in writing fantasy stories or romances.
Ultimate Iron Man
Marvel’s Ultimate universe is a darker, grittier version of the one with which most are familiar. In that universe, Tony Stark isn’t just a genius, he’s a genius with his brain matter distributed evenly throughout his body. The downside of this is that he has nearly constant pain from contact with everything around him due to the over-stimulation of his neural tissue. Card pens the two mini-series (also available as graphic novels) that bring us through his difficult birth and childhood through the early uses of the Iron Man armor that place him, along with Captain America and Thor, among the ranks of the Ultimates, which is what that universe called their Avengers. Card’s pacing and powerful dialog are here along with some striking artwork.
So yeah, he’s sparing in his descriptions. That’s because the room is taken up with awesome characterization and conversations.
Ignore his politics. Focus on his prose. It’s worth reading.
All that blood means this game is totally dark and edgy. Totally.
I’ve ragged a bit on the length of Dragon Age: Origins as well as the infamous memory leak that completely devoured at least an entire day of my life. But how did I feel about the game overall? How does its writing compare to Mass Effect or even its spiritual ancestor, Baldur’s Gate? Read on, and find out.
Dragon Age is a fantasy setting based in the world of Thedas. Origins introduces us to this world through the nation of Ferelden, which is facing the threat of invasion by twisted creatures known as darkspawn. The only force with the knowledge and experience capable of ending this threat, before it becomes a full-blown contagion of violence and destruction called a Blight, is the elite order of the Gray Wardens. It is this order your character will be invited to join after you get to know the race and/or class you select at the opening of the game.
Stuff I Didn’t Like
“A little club soda will get those blood spatters out of your dress, sir.”
The game’s intent of being a ‘dark’ fantasy is apparently the reason even the briefest of melee encounters will see you and the members of your party spattered in blood. It’s as if Jackson Pollock runs from one member to the other armed with a brush dipped in red paint, giggling with childlike glee. Having this happen in the wake of a bloody close-up kill would work a lot better than having these people constantly covered in gore. It actually becomes kind of hilarious if you try to talk one of your party members after a fight. They will casually talk with you and even joke, without bothering to even wipe the blood out of their eyes. I know it’s foolish to expect complete realism in a fantasy setting, but this always struck me as a bit off.
There’s a lot of loading that happens in this game, at least in the PC version. Especially when playing for longer than an hour or two, due to the aforementioned memory leak. I started seeing the slowly spinning tribal-influenced loading graphic in my sleep.
The Codex of the game is very dry. I’ve started to get used to sparing glances at posted information or an overheard conversation dumping a ream of text into my journal, but in Mass Effect there was some narration on the major entries that helped convey some interesting and world-building information. Now, while Dragon Age’s Codex isn’t essential as most of the background and world-building happens in the course of conversation with others, but the fact remains that the full text presented in-game can be difficult to sift through. Browsing a wiki for the information outside of the game is more informative and interesting.
Quests in fantasy games can often feel a little contrived. Stationary NPCs, especially those who are reputed to be powerful or fearsome, often give tasks to the players that they could easily accomplish themselves if not for some plot-imposed restriction. And in the course of your travels, it’s easy to begin to lose sight of your motivation as you try to hurdle one obstacle after another in what should be a straightforward affair. The two biggest culprits in this area are the tower of the Circle of Magi, and the Deep Roads extending from the dwarven city of Orzammar. Unlike the optional side quests posted on various boards around Ferelden, these areas contain sequences that require you to move from one map to another in what I assume was an attempt to give the game scope but really just felt like they were trying to make a long game even longer. Now, as I said I’ve already had a gripe about the game’s length, but having finished the game it did feel like a sweeping epic which is something I’ll discuss more in a bit. But the Deep Roads in particular just felt overly tedious. When I finally reached Caridin at the end of the Roads, I half expected the big guy to take me through an exchange that’d go something like this:
“YOU WILL GO TO THE WAYOVERTHERE MOUNTAINS, TO THE VERY PEAK OF MOUNT NOOBDEATH, AND BRING ME THE TEN HAMMERS OF AWESOMENESS TO PROPERLY DISPOSE OF THE ANVIL OF THE VOID.”
“Is the anvil bolted down?”
“…WHAT DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH ANYTHING?”
“Well, if isn’t bolted to the stone, why don’t we all pick it up and heave the thing into the molten lava flowing below us? Hell, even if it is bolted down, I’m a mage, Oghren’s a mighty beer-drinking dwarf, Alistair’s pretty badass when he stops whining and snarking, and both you and Shale are immortal super-strong golems. Why don’t we eliminate the bolts, THEN hurl it into the lava? That’d do the job nicely, right?”
“…YOUR SOLUTION IS NOT EPIC ENOUGH.”
“But it just makes more sense to use what we’ve got here than to wander all the way out and up into the mountains…”
“EPIC SOLUTIONS DO NOT MEAN LOGICAL SOLUTIONS. GET ON WITH THE QUESTING.”
“…”
“THERE’S EPIC GEAR IN IT FOR YOU.”
“Fine, whatever.”
Speaking of Shale, it boggles my mind that one of the best characters in the game is only available via DLC. Shale is interesting, useful, deep and absolutely hysterical, but if you didn’t get the right retail copy or don’t have the $15 necessary to download her, you’re shit outta luck, friend.
Stuff I Liked
This view is why the PC version works very well for me.
Regarding the game’s length, while some of the sequences did feel a bit long in the tooth, the overall arc of the game is like that of Lord of the Rings or Chronicles of Narnia, in that we have a sojourn across a foreign land in the name of an epic quest. Seeing the story through to the end, while a frustrating slog at times, is very satisfying. It was like the first time I finally finished all three Lord of the Rings novels. I didn’t really care about Tom Bombadil’s hat or how green the grass is in the Shire, but it was pretty damn awesome to see how everything resolved in the end.
There’s a lot of replay value here. Beyond the different origin stories, there are a lot of choices to make with a given character both in terms of dialog and specialization. No two playthroughs are guaranteed to be the same. In fact, I’ve thought of going back to an earlier save of my mage and tweaking his build just a bit, to make him more of a magic knight and less of an armored healer. Hell, I could change his build entirely and just nuke everything in sight.
The politics and religions of Thedas in general and Ferelden in particular feel three-dimensional. The main NPCs you’ll encounter in your travels also come across as more than cardboard cut-outs, despite their somewhat stiff uncanny valley appearance.
Stuff I Loved
Oghren: “You as sick of runnin’ hither an’ yon for these lazy sodding rutters as I am?”
The speaking characters in your party, while requiring some of BioWare’s trademark micromanagement, are a diverse and well-realized bunch. Shale, as I’ve mentioned, is a stand-out character, and Oghren the dwarf had me rolling pretty much any time he spoke. I mentioned Alistair’s penchant for being whiny and snarky, but for the most part it’s more endearing than annoying. I even found myself warming up to Sten, the extremely stoic Qunari warrior. Another reason I want to play through this game again is to further explore some of the stories behind the party members I didn’t hang out with as often. Your mileage may vary, of course. However, the only reason I imagine someone might not like the character of the Dog is if they just plain hate dogs. Otherwise, I would be very surprised if you played this game and didn’t find yourself wanting a mabari war hound of your own.
It would be easy for this game, billed as a dark fantasy and covered in blood, to focus entirely on combat as a means to resolve all its situations. But there’s diplomacy, puzzle-solving and even some politicing involved as well. Allowing the game’s storylines to expand beyond the combat engine makes it feel less like a straight hack and slash affair and more like an honest-to-whomever role playing game. Solid writing that compliments the action instead of existing solely for the purpose of shepherding us from one combat encounter to the next makes the game more interesting, immersive and fun. Dragon Age: Origins definitely delivers on that score.
There’s a definite feeling that your actions (or inaction in some cases) have long-reaching ramifications in this world. From party members deserting you over a given choice to whole parties of pilgrims getting wiped out in the epilogue because you skipped something, Dragon Age: Origins reminds you that Thedas is much bigger than the microcosm of you and your party. The world is built in this way to such a degree that the Codex feels even more superfluous. Thedas is a rich, deep and rewarding world to explore, and I found myself wanting to spend more time there, darkspawn and ogres notwithstanding.
Bottom Line: If you have any interest in a high fantasy role-playing game that evokes the likes of Baldur’s Gate or Neverwinter Nights, Dragon Age: Origins is worth the investment of both time and money. Fans of straight-forward hack’n’slashers might be better off buying Torchlight or saving up for the upcoming Diablo III. I plan on playing this plenty in the weeks and months to come, which means that for me, Dragon Age: Origins is a great success.
From all outward appearances, not much is happening around here.
Apparently the region has been ‘paralyzed’ by the recent snowstorm. It’s gone by many names – “Snowmageddon”, “Snopocalypse”, “Snotorious B.I.G.”, “The Reveblizzation of St. John”, “Snonarok” – but through the wonders of the Internet and due in no small part to the supply of tea in my cupboard, I’ve managed to stay at least somewhat productive.
Now, I’m as lazy and easily distracted as the next writer. I’m fully aware of my tendency to procrastinate. However, like snow that comes up to one’s knees, it’s not as complete and insurmountable an obstacle as it might seem. It’s just a matter of suiting up, taking up the right tool for the job, and heading out into the environment.
Sometimes it isn’t rejection or constraints of time that can blanket the landscape of your literary journey. Sometimes it’s the knowledge of previous attempts. This is the sixth or seventh time I’ve tried to get this particular work – “The Project” as I have enigmatically dubbed it – off the ground. Every time, I get a little bit further, and every time something comes up that makes me stop and rethink the entire endeavor. It could be any number of things: a contrived plot point, an expository conversation, a character who needs a rewrite to be less of a personal mouthpiece or an entire scene or group of characters the story can do without.
This is why, in choosing to focus on the Project, I essentially started over, and broke the story down to the barest essentials of its plot. I’m very thankful to everyone who chimed in on the Story Bible, as I now have a solid foundation that will help keep things going when I feel I might be writing in the wrong direction. Once the foundation was poured and dried, I began setting up the major and minor characters that would help shape the story. Not everybody needed a full dossier, but mention’s been made of most of the primary “speaking parts” that will come and go throughout the novel’s narrative.
Last night I took a look through some of my previous attempts at this, and it appears I already have a fair amount of material written on the world, its history and its inhabitants. The time may come when I need to stop and compile a new document to keep it all in one place, but an odd thing occurred to me last night while speaking to my wife. I gave her a bit of advice I realized I should be following myself:
“The only way to write is to start.”
So I’ve tracked down a decent, no-nonsense word meter to include somewhere on the site, and tonight after the conclusion of another day of working from home, I’m going to plow forward on the narrative of The Project itself.
I need to finish digging out my car, too. Poor Vera’s been under the snow for days.
So I’ve taken some time to talk about bad protagonists in Final Fantasy games. What, you might ask, are examples of good ones?
I’m glad you asked me that, conjectural reader.
Zidane Tribal (Final Fantasy IX)
With the exception of Amarant, that random amalgamation of muscles and hair on the left of the pictured box art, most of the characters in Final Fantasy IX have depth, emotion and plausible relationships with the people around them. Garnet, the female lead, isn’t an insufferable whiner or completely vain. Vivi is perhaps the most adorable destroyer of worlds in any of these games (unless you count Lulu’s collection of plushies from the following game) and Steiner shows us just how badass a normal guy can be when tossed into these sort of situations. As much as I could talk about them, though, and the plethora of good things I have to say about Freya Crescent, this is about the main protagonists, and in this case, it’s cat/monkey boy Zidane.
He’s not the best main character in the history of gaming, but he’s very nearly a messiah in relation to his two predecessors. From the start, Zidane’s charismatic and fun, from his lecherous gazes at passing women to his interest in both theater and music. Even when the plot begins to twist and turn back upon it self, Zidane never really loses sight of who he is and what he wants to be. In fact, it’s one of his greatest strengths – no matter what someone tells him about ‘fate’ or ‘destiny,’ he is determined to be his own person. Instead of relying on his friends to get him through his most trying time, he actually attempts to forge ahead on his own, rather than endanger them. He shows more consistency and dimension than his previous counterparts, which to me puts him head, shoulders and tail above them.
Terra Branford (Final Fantasy VI)
Zidane reminds me a bit of Locke from this game. In fact, I could discuss any of the characters from Final Fantasy VI at length, because the roster of characters from the game each have unique traits, importance to the plot and dimensions that make the more people than pixels. However, again, I must remain focused on the main hero of the game, or heroine in this case. Terra was the first female protagonist to come to a Final Fantasy game, and to this day, she remains my favorite.
While the game starts her as both an amnesiac and under the control of the game’s villainous omnicidal clown, Terra is quickly revealed to be a compassionate, sensitive and intelligent young woman. Unlike some of the other protagonists I’ve mentioned in other games, as soon as the veil of enemy control is lifted from her, she becomes introspective and self-aware, growing as a character and becoming more comfortable and confident in both herself and her friends. Her arc is well-plotted and executed without major fault, and this consistent and realistic growth adds to her appeal as a cypher for the actions and attitudes of the player.
This player, at least. Most of the opinions I’ve ventured here are purely subjective. Feel free to discuss them at your leisure and fling poo at my cage. However, when compared one against the other in terms of character growth, motivations and appeal, I hope you can see why some of these protagonists succeed while others are complete and total failures.
Issue 239 of the Escapist is now available, entitled “Anti/Hero.” Below is the article I pitched for the issue.
NOTE: Due to circumstances mostly beyond my control, this article has been divided into two parts. Below is part the first.
Final Fantasy is arguably the most popular series of role-playing games from Square/Enix, and one of the selling points of a role-playing game is who drives the epic story forward. In some cases, this means the player fills in the blanks left open by the designers (i.e. Commander Sheperd in Mass Effect), while in others the player takes control of the lead character in a party. Given that developers want people to play their games, why do the protagonists of so many Final Fantasy games seem completely unlikeable?
A good protagonist is the cornerstone of a successful story. Take a look at Luke Skywalker, John McClain, Marty McFly or Frodo Baggins. Heck, even Kevin ‘Neo’ Anderson isn’t a bad protagonist in the first Matrix film. He’s as confused, shocked and awestruck as we are during the course of the story, before he and everyone else in the franchise gets railroaded into even murkier and more confusing references to the murky and confusing philosophy of Baudrillard. But in all of the above cases, you have someone who’s a bit of an everyman, someone with whom the audience can relate right away, who goes through trials and tribulations in a somewhat realistic and endearing way. In Star Wars, where it’d be all too easy for the special effects to take center stage as they did in more recent films (which I’ll touch on more later), Luke Skywalker is the beating heart of the narrative. Frodo Baggins, a short and reluctant individual, deals with his challenges the way most of us probably would. John McClain, a hard-nosed beat-walkin’ cop, shows us that one can be heroic while still being very human.
Bad protagonists, on the other hand, go so far as to unintentionally verge into anti-hero territory. Not because they break the law in the name of justice, but because they exemplify the antithesis of heroism. It’s a matter of degrees when it comes to Final Fantasy, so let’s take a look at the three biggest offenders, and see just how heroic these “heroes” really are.
Cloud Strife (Final Fantasy VII)
Cloud isn’t necessarily a bad guy. A product of the evil ShinRa Corporation’s SOLDIER program, Cloud’s past is something of a mystery even to himself. Still, he acts confident to the point of arrogance in his abilities up until the point of his nervous breakdown. He assumed control of the mercenary group ‘for the right price’ and after his breakdown is more concerned about protecting the planet by atoning for his sins. In both instances, his motivations are more selfish than selfless. He is at least loyal to his friends, especially towards the end, but the fact of the matter is he got off to a very rocky start.
I’m not entirely sure why people chose to follow him. Sure, his abilities were inspiring, and Tifa’s a childhood friend who never forgot the promise he made to protect her, but when we first meet him and see how he deals with the people around, he acts like a bit of a dick. Advent Children and other works have tried to make Cloud into something of an emo crybaby, but he doesn’t blame other people for his shortcomings over the course of the game. He just pretends he doesn’t have any at first. It’s only after personal tragedy that Cloud becomes more introverted and self-aware, but by that point the damage is done. He’s not the worst protagonist in Final Fantasy’s history, but he’s far from the best. At least he has something resembling character growth.
Squall Leonhart (Final Fantasy VIII)
Again, the word “emo” gets lobbed at Squall quite a bit. But despite his haircut, leather jacket and disposition, I wouldn’t go so far as to calling him that. He really isn’t an emo character. The problem is he isn’t much of a character at all. He’s an orphan dedicated to proving himself in the paramilitary academy called Balamb Garden, taking it upon himself to master the tricky and dangerous gunblade. Like Cloud, he’s self-confident in his abilities but there the similarities end.
His cold aloofness towards people around him is probably his most prominent character trait. While it’s understandable in relation to his would-be love interest, the whiny and insufferable Rinoa, upbeat Zell and gentle, intelligent Quistis aren’t able to get around his psychological armor. And don’t get me started on the whole issue of him pursuing Rinoa over Quistus. That’s even more outrageous to me than Cloud pursuing Aerith over Tifa.
It takes quite a while for Squall to finally warm up to just about anybody, including and especially his supposed love interest. He’s a bit more consistent in his growth than Cloud, but this growth is so minuscule and comes so late in the game that it might as well have been skipped altogether. With all the interesting things going on, from possession to dream states to travel into space and through time, you’d think Squall would act more as a cypher for the player and less as a completely blank and lifeless character in and of himself. Instead of allowing the player to impose choices and personality upon their representative in the game world, like Mass Effect or Dragon Age, Squall is just sort of there. You can’t influence who he is and how he acts, and while this would be fine if he had a personality for us to learn about, for most of the game, he has about as much personality as a block of concrete.
Tidus (Final Fantasy X)
Tidus has personality. It’s too bad that he’s such an asshole.
Tidus is a blitzball player drawn into the plight of the world called Spira by a malevolent force dubbed ‘Sin’. Gibberish aside, what Final Fantasy X brings us is a story of a young man, barely more than a child, transplanted from the world he’s known all his life into another place to which he has a mysterious connection. It’s full of foreign people speaking in strange tongues, but hey, at least they have blitzball.
Words used to describe Tidus include ‘cheerful’ and ‘sensitive’. I mostly saw him as whiny, narcissistic, dense and self-congratulatory. When the game begins, he isn’t very nice, he treats people around him badly and he’s worried primarily about himself. He’s also put into a situation with a female character, Yuna, and they just happen to fall in love because the script requires this game to be a sweeping romance I guess.
Tidus, in retrospect and given the wording I’ve paraphrased heavily from Confused Matthew, reminds me of someone.
