| Author |
Message |
Mats W (Kålroten)
| | Posted on Friday, February 03, 2006 - 11:20 am: | |
I have noted certain striking similarities between our occupation with board games/puzzles and the central notions of medieval alchemy. The focal point in alchemy was the 'Vas Hermeticum', the alembic, or the alchemical retort, which are all different names for the alchemist's vessel where the 'warring elements' were subjected to heat and underwent "circular distillation". In our gaming business the board, as such, is the equivalent of the hermetic vessel, while in it the warring elements are added and sealed off from the outside world. In alchemical manuscripts this is depicted as the coniunction of 'Sol et Luna', 'Rex and Regina', winged and wingless dragon. The latter bite each other's tail, forming a circle, symbolic of the process. The same idea is also portrayed as the 'Uroboros', the tail-biting serpent.
The circular distillation implies that 'dissolutio' (the forming of vapour) follows upon 'coagulatio' (the forming of substances on the bottom of the retort) in a circular motion. I came to think about this mythologem when I developed Bario, which uses this recycle concept. However, the cyclic motion is, in itself, a more general symbol. It implies the maintenance of a transformative process in a substance that from the beginning lay inert. The goal of the process was the appearance of a 'spiritual substance', i.e., the alchemist's gold, or the 'red elixir' (et al.). From the chaos, the 'prima materia', of crude material substances, will arise a refined spirit, the 'Spiritus Mercurius', the Stone of the Philosophers, which had wonder-working properties.
So, my point is that, unconsciously, we follow the alchemists' procedure when we tend to get obsessed by the transformations in our vessels, that is, our board games. This is essentially the same as the alchemist's laborations with his chemicals. We are in fact trying to synthesize the most holy substance from our games. I think that involved in this work is a phantasy of "The Perfect Game." We search to find this game that will have wholesome effects on the ones who play it, and will make them healthy, and bestow on them long lives, and also have benevolent effects on the surrounding world.
Ancient and medieval people viewed board games as doorways to the spritual sphere. I think this phantasy is still going on in our unconscious. But, unlike the ancients, modern people are generally unaware of such spiritual aspects of things. However, when one comes to understand this then one can better understand medieval mind's obsession with board games, which they notoriously carved into temple walls and roofs. In Gloucester Cathedral, according to Murray, there are several Fox and Geese boards incised on the stone seats. From the well in Norwich castle (a holy place) was retrieved a game scratched on a flat stone. Fox and Geese boards also occur in the cloisters of San Paolo, Rome. In India, according to Prof. Rangachar Vasantha, board games are depicted in murals, and they were deliberately built into roofing slabs, or the floor of temples in ancient India. In the temple at Kurna in Egypt there are more than 70(?) board games painstakingly carved into the roofing slabs.
Clearly, the board game represents a spiritual mystery, a vessel in which the spirit is captive, and this is where our fascination stems from.
Mats |
Derek Nalls (Omegaman)
| | Posted on Friday, February 10, 2006 - 3:42 pm: | |
Personally, I must take exception to your analogy although I find your prose interesting. Moreover, I strongly doubt that I speak only for myself.
Your analogy of board game creation to alchemy is utterly off-track since we at least, can and should use modern knowledge, techniques and tools from mathematics, geometry, combinatorial game theory, computer science, etc to assist our intuition, abstraction and value judgments. By contrast, the alchemists were (mis)guided exclusively by philosophical, mental guesswork.
The alchemists were dreadfully stupid, mystics from medieval times who engaged in pure pseudoscience and failed completely in their goals. Essentially, they attempted to achieve the fruits of nuclear chemistry in the absence of the basics of ordinary chemistry (or even, the periodic table).
By logical extension, ideas (which many of us hold) regarding quality criteria and sound game-design principles validate the concept that some games are better than others and ultimately, that theoretically one game can be better than all others, incapable of being improved upon or virtually perfect.
If you do not believe you are trying to define rare, high quality within your games, then why are you inventing games at all? How can this craft possibly be worthwhile or purposeful to you if the infinite variety of boards, pieces, rules, etc available for board games represent total chaos, anarchy, nihilism and/or relativism to you? |
Mats W (Kålroten)
| | Posted on Saturday, February 11, 2006 - 1:21 am: | |
But, in the historical record, the motives underlying the creation of games are often much different from the rational criteria you account for. A good example is Madagascan "Fanorona". Nigel Pennick ('Games of the Gods') says:
"As a game of combat , Fanorona is clearly an unsatisfying game, for it takes no account of superior skill, as would Nine Men's Morris or Chess, for it wipes out any advantage , and levels the score. But Fanorona cannot be seen in terms of a game of skill, for it has a symbolic and divinatory function. It represents the essential unity of the combating forces of the world, and guarantees that the loser now will later win. As a form of meditation for two people, it could not be better. In Madagascar, the Royal House employed ritual professionals who played Fanorona on important days of state when important decisions were to be taken, or the outcome of events involving combat were required to be known" (p.215).
So it should be possible to create a game for Zillions that does not put any demand on your intellectual skills but is merely good for "meditation". The point I tried to make in my earlier message is that we are governed by two kinds of motives: (1) conscious rational motives, and (2) unconscious motives that are often irrational. The criteria you mention belong to (1), and I won't contradict their validity. However, the unconscious motives, which are more along the lines of alchemy, will always be there, whether you like it or not, or whether you choose to disregard these motives or not. As to the alchemists' activities, we know today that their fantasies were projections of the psyche. Apart from their chemical discoveries, their fabulous images are today regarded as foreboding modern depth psychology, as authors like M-L von Franz has demonstrated. So it's not the question of "relativism" but of a more complete picture of what drives a human being. |
Derek Nalls (Omegaman)
| | Posted on Saturday, February 11, 2006 - 9:57 am: | |
Then you agree that the ancient methods typical to board game creation sharply contrast the modern methods typical ... although numerous exceptions of psychological, mystical or religious motivation persist (as you point-out)? |
L. Lynn Smith (Interrupt27)
| | Posted on Saturday, February 11, 2006 - 11:23 pm: | |
Isn't the art of food preparation a form of alchemy? Think about the various transformations which occur during the simple baking process.
Alchemy is an excellent allegory for game design.
No matter what elements a developer attempts to quantify as essential to the 'perfect' game, there will always be an elusive value. Enjoyment. The final arbitrator of all games.
This value is totally subjective. There is no formulae which will derive this particular value. It is as elusive as the Philosopher's Stone. |
Greg Schmidt (Gschmidt)
| | Posted on Saturday, February 11, 2006 - 11:41 pm: | |
Inspiration for a game can originate from a multitude of sources. Alchemy, religion, mysticism, mathematics, computer science, daydreaming, etc. just to name a few. I see no incongruity in drawing on inspiration from a diverse set of sources. |
Derek Nalls (Omegaman)
| | Posted on Sunday, February 12, 2006 - 1:20 am: | |
"Alchemy is an excellent allegory for game design."
I will acknowledge that alchemy is an applicable allegory for the history of board game design. That speaks very badly of its history and the typical quality of gameworks of ancient origin. However, I do not acknowledge that alchemy is a sufficiently applicable allegory for the present, modern era of board game design. Moreover, I predict that it will become even less applicable as the future unfurls due to the ever-increasing power and influence of theoretical and technological tools. |
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