"You Don't Play, You Volunteer" Response.

First off, allow me to apologize for the lateness of this post.  I had a miscommunication with David, who also posted this week, and it turns out we were writing over the same article.  So, here’s my new post over Dr. Hess’ piece, “You Don’t Play, You Volunteer”: Narrative Public Memory Construction in Medal of Honor: Rising Sun.

            For this article, Hess dove into a narrative and ludological analysis of Medal of Honor: Rising Sun, a video game released in November 2003 during the Gamecube, Xbox, and Playstation 2 generation.  Since I spent more time than I care to admit playing this game as a 14 year old, I had an easy time slipping into the rhetorical world Hess wrote about; however, for the sake of those who do not partake in video games, I’ll offer an overview of the ludological and narrative focuses of this game (as researched by Dr. Hess) before diving into the interactive effects and implications Hess discovered within these aspects of Medal of Honor: Rising Sun, as well as an overall reaction to this piece and how it applies today.

            Just as with novels or films, video games too have overarching themes for audiences to experience and attribute meaning.  However, unlike the vast majority of novels or films, video games such as Medal of Honor: Rising Sun construct meaning through both narrative devices as well as player interactivity.  While the industry's humble begins from Tetris to Super Mario World leave much meaning to be desired, now, as Hess states, “computer mediated environments, such as multiple user dungeons, chat rooms, and especially gaming, have reached increasing complexity and realism” (p. 340).  Now that the technology exists, digital gaming presents interactive simulations that interweave player action with complex narratives to present fully rhetorical situations (i.e. Mass Effect), and in Medal of Honor’s case, one that uses historical events as a backdrop for a soldier-simulation in WWII (Hess 2007). 

            Due to this unique situation, Hess used narrative and ludological criticism to analyze how the narrative and interactive elements of Rising Sun.  Take a look at how Medal of Honor: Rising Sun is presented.  Hess stated that “the intersection between the gameplay narrative and the historical narrative is underscored through mission objectives” (p. 345).  Here, the objective (scene) is set up through a cinematic where players are caught up on the narrative and goals they have to complete.  Once the cinematic is over, the player takes first-person control of the main character, and it is up to them to fulfill the mission.  As an ordinary gamer taking the place of an ordinary soldier, the player is now thrust into a vernacular perspective on the wartime events that follow (Hess 2007).  The first person perspective of the interactive experience during historical moments in WWII rhetorically place the player in a situation that seems credible and real, leading them to a perspective of patriotic vengeance on Japan in which events played out seem like they actually happened as the player experienced them.

            However, as narratives tend to go, there is a beginning, middle, and end to the player’s journey, and in order to reach the end, the player must play the part.  Hess writes, “while immersed in the text, the player interacts with its limits, borders, and environment” (p. 344), and playing the part in this “authentic” historical environment leads to the critical blindness described in the article.  This blindness leads us to the implications Hess describes as Rising Sun using intertwined narratives to create a story of personal revenge, with the players actively becoming involved in at type of public memory that reigns in themes of nationalistic pride and jingoism.  One of the most important things to realize, however, is that the game is both, as Hess puts it, static and dynamic (353).  There is only one way to win, but getting there is an interactive journey taken on by the player.  Thus, the “politics of remembrance” are being brought to a new audience in a new way.  By reconstructing the war in this way, players are not only experiencing it, but also creating it themselves.

            It is easy to see that the rhetorical situation in video games is, at the very least, complex, and this complexity lends to the potential for game to use narrative construction as a work of art and tell stories that can affect the player in ways only a video game can.  Yet as technology increases at a rapid pace, so does the propensity for influential video games.  Call of Duty: Black Ops, which came out a few years ago, uses historical wartime settings, events, and characters (from JFK to Castro) in a very similar fashion to Medal of Honor: Rising Sun.  Here, the façade of better animation, better graphics, and better production value are offering the opportunity of better truths.  But while not all games profess these sorts of narrative arguments and conscious (or subconscious) representations, Hess’ research allows us to recognize the propensity for video games to attribute such important meaning to what is experienced within them.   

The focal point here is that video game narratives offer a unique opportunity for participatory experience within an emerging art form, and rhetoric in these moments is experienced from multiple vantage points thanks to interactivity.  Wolf states in his Game Studies and Beyond article that “with the addition of interactivity, the image is not just a window but a tool that allows one to (metaphorically) reach through the window frame to find things and manipulate and interact with them instead of just viewing them” (p. 117).  Video games implement different thematic production and narrative techniques found in film or the written word, but with interactivity, the rhetorical situation becomes much greater than the sum of its parts.  Now it’s your turn, classmates.  What do you think this means for the video game industry?  Does participation in a narrative actually grant players choice, or is it just as linear as the railway cars in Holocaust museums?  Do video games have the potential to become not just artistic, but the medium for an entirely unique rhetorical experience, or are they doomed to be simulative constructs that will remain planted in the linear?