Saturday, 28 December 2019

Thematic Index


I've done some rearranging of things on here lately and thought it would be a good opportunity to pull links to all my critical work together in one place. There's an introduction to my old podcast about JRPGs here, and I want to highlight my enormous Twine essay about Persona 3, Boogiepop, gender transition and death, Empty Halls//Don't Laugh. For the rest, here's a breakdown of the blog posts:

JRPGs

These are a collection of writings about 'JRPG' as a genre label, the sorts of common features found under this label and the appearance of a 'gender crisis'. Some of these are fairly early efforts, and I need to revisit many of the claims, but I still think the underlying ideas have some merit.

A personal reflection on my own experiences of the 'death of the JRPG', from which I developed a (currently-stalled) project on the first JRPGs to appear on the Xbox 360, between 2006 and 2009; the first JRPGs developed directly for a US-made console and a predominantly US audience.

This was my first attempt at collaboration with Val Carter and LeeRoy Lewin, a collaboration that would eventually lead to the Dead Genre Chronicles podcast. Over the almost five years since, we haven't really found anything to overturn the fundamental insight that we were nosing at here, that JRPGs are characterised by a particular non-representative kind of abstraction and a particular use thereof in narrative pacing.

A brief attempt to characterise the abstraction of time and duration in JRPGs.

Time again, this time the expression of time within narratives.

Using a contrast with the Legend of Zelda series to clarify (hopefully, a little) the kind of abstraction we take to typify JRPGs.

A direct investigation of the 'death of the JRPG' and the role in it of a particular kind of youtube-centric rhetoric from the late 00s, via an analysis of the reception of The World Ends With You.

Mostly a joke, but there's a serious point at the end of this one.

A detailed analysis, of a kind I'd like to do more of, of what it means for a game to be 'turn-based', and whether there's any period of JRPG history in which one stable concept of 'turn-basis' was ubiquitous.

Final Fantasy

I have spent way too much of my life writing and thinking about the Final Fantasy franchise, especially the entries since the turn of the century. Several of these are personal reflections on individual games, but others are substantive engagements with the franchise's history and contemporary status.

Originally a mini-episode for Dead Genre Chronicles, in this essay I dug into the critical reception of FFXII and identifying a turning point in the western reception of JRPGs attendant in part on its troubled development.

Written before the release of FFXV, in this essay I wondered about why the FF games of the 21st century turned their attention so heavily towards female heroes and lead characters.

A critical review of World of Final Fantasy, a game which uses an unexpectedly sophisticated bait-and-switch narrative to call into question the habitual expectations JRPG fans have of an FF-branded game.

The marketing campaign for FFXV was a bizarre, extravagant spectacle. Here, I did my best to dig into why.

My review of FFXV, in which I grappled with the question of why so few western critics had paid any attention to the fact that the game was clearly, for all its flaws, a pointed critique of America at the end of the American Century

And the personal reflections:
On my loyalty to FFXII at a time when it seemed largely forgotten even by its corporate owners.
On FFVII and its fans, shortly after the remake was announced.
Why FFXIII's Lightning resonates so much for me.
I was genuinely surprised to hear a port and remaster of FFXII announced in 2016, and did my best to put words to why it was important to me.
There's a lot more in this than personal reflection, including a fairly deep read of the narrative structure of FFXIII, but ultimately it's about home, family, and the hostility of both to queerness, a theme I plan to revisit more analytically in other work.

Realism

These five pieces are a gradual and inconsistent evolution of an idea I'm still struggling to express, about what exactly 'realism' means in a videogame context. The first few are really ropey, and all are heavily steeped in my philosophical background, but I've tried to offer introductory-level explanations throughout.

I start here with a classic philosophical problem of the truth of fictional claims (did Sherlock Holmes live at 221B Baker Street?), and a brief foray into Kantian metaphysics.

This time I turn to the debate between Newton and Leibniz about the nature of space and the question of videogames contain or merely simulate spaces.

There's less explicit philosophy in this one, where I focus on emotional impact as a ground of reality.

Here it's George Berkeley's turn to take centre stage (though really I was using his theories all along); this is probably the most detailed metaphysical engagement I've made with this topic so far.

This is the best of these five pieces, and digs much more directly into what people are actually expressing care about when they talk about realism in videogames; it's a product of an ongoing shift in my philosophy from analytic to critical methods, and there's a substantial engagement with John Locke towards the end, which I plan on developing further in the future.

Tales

In 2015 I made an effort to play all the Tales of games, from Tales of Symphonia onwards, as part of a project on Tales of Vesperia and JRPGs on the Xbox 360 (see above). That project is on the shelf at the moment but I did some writing about each of the games.

On how Tales of Symphonia 2's combat reflects its central themes of fragility and isolation.
On the more subversive elements of Tales of Vesperia's sidequest design.
On toxic masculinity in Tales of Graces.
More on Vesperia, and how its deeper meaning emerges from surface absurdities.
How Tales of Vesperia challenges conventional ideas of heroism.
On the relationship between masculinity and the idea of 'uncharted territory' as manifested in the map-making sidequests in Vesperia.
Another sidequest in Vesperia, and how it affects the temporality of the game.
On silent protagonists and dialogue choices – a theme that would come up repeatedly on the Dead Genre Chronicles podcasts – in reference to Tales of Xillia 2's Ludger Kresnik.
My attempt to put a capstone on my love for this franchise, unfortunately written too early to include the most recent instalment, Tales of Berseria, about which I might have been even more powerfully moved.

Dead Genre Chronicles introductory listener guide


Dead Genre Chronicles was a podcast I did with Valori Carter and LeeRoy Lewin from August 2015 to September 2018. In it, we developed what we think is a pretty robust critical method and genealogy for studying JRPGs, but in the process we recorded well over fifty hours of podcasts, so what follows is a sort of introductory outline.

We recorded an end-of-year roundup at the end of each of our three years, which provide a brief summary of our responses to each game and each year as a whole:



 

The Model

These are the episodes in which (in my opinion) we did the bulk of the work establishing our method and genealogy. Given the format, it comes together a bit haphazardly, but I think it does come together in the end.


There probably couldn't have been a better place to start the podcast than Live-a-Live, a 1994 Squaresoft game for the SNES which was never localised. It's an incredible exercise in exploring the possibility space of JRPGs, and we referred back to it constantly throughout the rest of the podcast. Because this was our first episode, it's technically and structurally a bit ropey, but well worth persevering through.


Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door is a brilliant but idiosyncratic game, and what we discovered was that its idiosyncrasies were born of a deep understanding, on the part of its designers, of the JRPG design traditions they stand in contrast with.


Every year, we forced Leeroy to nominate at least one game for us to cover, and Breath of Fire II was his first pick. It turned out to be a great choice, as the ways in which it draws from and builds on the Dragon Quest franchise pushed us to pay more attention to that franchise's role in the development of the genre (of which more in a moment).


There are lessons to be learned from bad games as well as good ones. Ni No Kuni: Wrath of the White Witch is a tedious slog because its designers failed to understand why certain typical JRPG mechanics took the forms they did. NNK nods at all the tropes, but none of them fit together well.


The Dragon Quest franchise is the spine of the JRPG genre; what we learned this episode, playing Dragon Quest V, was that the influence of DQ spreads much more widely through the genre than western commenters usually recognise. Lots of design decisions, especially in the 21st century, make a lot more sense when related back to DQ than just to Final Fantasy.


My first encounter with LeeRoy's critical work was an argument of his about the relationship between Earthbound and Dragon Quest, and we explore that link in more detail here. Earthbound is a funhouse mirror to the ur-JRPG, but far from a thoughtless one, and its many subversions again illuminate that history in further important ways.

The Top Three

These are, to my mind, our best episodes – the episodes where we brought our best critical skills to games that most richly rewarded them.


Nier has a much higher profile now than it did when we recorded this, thanks to its less-interesting, more polished sequel, but it stands on its own as one of the most inventive games of its generation. It also has some of the best peripheral and side-quest writing ever in a commercial game, making it excellent grist to a JRPG scholar's mill.


Final Fantasy XII arguably marks the start of the period characterised as the 'death of the JRPG'. Certainly, its complicated critical reception and the persistent rumours about its troubled development have done its legacy no favours, though the recent Zodiac Age remaster has prompted something of a reevaluation. In this episode we set the game in its contemporary context, noting its attempt to comment on American imperialism in Iraq, nuclear disarmament, and the role of 'freedom' in gamer rhetoric.


The final showdown. If FFXII can be used to mark the start of the death of the JRPG, FFXIII is its peak. I hope that in this episode we were able to give a clear critical response to the game itself as well as unpacking why it became such a genrepocalypse.

The Trash Bin

Over the years, we covered a number of games which we really don't recommend anybody spend time on, but these three stand out as the most irredeemable.


Suikoden II is sometimes held up as the best JRPG of all time, but this was unrecognisable to us. After a faintly promising introduction, it spirals off into incompetent, genre-illiterate tedium, with a plot that borders on reifying fascist propaganda.


I used to like Skies of Arcadia, and it was instrumental in the formation of my interest in JRPGs, but it is super racist. Like, really super duper amazingly racist. There are ways to do steampunky/golden-age-of-piracy-styled games without drowning yourself in colonialism, but Skies doesn't try any of them, and its formulaic plotting and plodding encounter design turn it into a horrible slog to boot.


Suikoden 2 only flirts with fascist propaganda; Treasure of the Rudras openly embraces it, and none of its attempts at experiment (themselves weaker than Live-a-Live's from two years prior) can overturn that fundamental fact.

The Cult of Square

In the late 90s, following the release of Final Fantasy VII, Squaresoft became one of the most important development companies in gaming. In addition to their trio of PS1 Final Fantasy games, they put out a second, less structured trio on the same platform, each of which in its way has achieved cult status. We tackled all three of these in our first year, and while we weren't impressed, taken together they're an interesting window on how the history of the JRPG took shape.


Chrono Cross is a beautiful game, perhaps the most beautiful ever made in the PS1 paradigm of 3D-animated models on prerendered backgrounds. It's a potent mood piece but burdened by the incomprehensible lore linking it to its insufferably-overrated predecessor, Chrono Trigger


Look, I'm a total sucker for Tetsuya Takahashi's wild loremongering, but this game is fifty hours of hollow overambition with ten minutes of interesting cutscene (from which I developed a forty-minute lecture in this episode) at the end. It's a great example of how easy it is to trick gamers into thinking you're being profound by mumbling some references to psychoanalysis and existentialism.


Final Fantasy Tactics wants so much to be the kind of sophisticated political storytelling that Yasumi Matsuno would eventually accomplish with Final Fantasy XII, but wastes far too much of the goodwill earned by its first chapter on a simplistic supernatural conspiracy story that can't even stick its landing.

The full list of episodes, including our two spin-off podcasts, Myth and Kin (on the Witcher franchise, featuring Val and Samuel Howitt) and World Revolution (on indie and underground RPGs, featuring LeeRoy and John Thyer) is here, and here's a Youtube playlist with all the DGC episodes.