Recently, I’ve been interested in games that are “autobiographical.” They’ve only just come across my radar, but they’re also a relatively recent phenomena. Games like Cibele or Dys4ia or That Dragon, Cancer, which are explicitly autobiographical (or semi-autobiographical). There are others, I’m just in the very early stages of research. I prefer the term “automedia,” which Julie Rak outlines in her wonderful essay “Life Vs. Automedia” because games are more than just writing: it’s a combination of video, writing, coding, pictures, drawings, etc. But Rak’s essay explicitly addresses the autobiographical acts and practices of players on Sims 3 and not necessarily a game that is made to be an automedia like Cibele or like That Dragon, Cancer. So I plan on working out these ideas – how to discuss autobiographical games – in a paper and during the upcoming conference season.
But I also tested out these ideas in my “Digital Lives” class earlier this term. I find classes to be a productive way of testing out ideas and approaches when I’ve thought them through enough. The lecture was on Cibele, and a few of my students were interested in pursuing either the game or the topic “autobiographical games” for their research paper. One of my students decided on The Beginner’s Guide, a game that I have heard before but have not played. When the student described the game to me, it was on the basis that it was a biographical or autobiographical game because the game was about a game developer “Coda” but it was also about “Davey,” the author of the game, and his relationship to Coda (and this is why in Life Writing, the / in auto/biography, is quite useful). The student described the game as simply: You walk through Coda’s games as the narrator describes the story behind Coda and his relationship to Coda. The student then said that the climax of the game is Davey’s realization that he had wronged Coda and admits fault for why their friendship fell apart. (This introduction of the game was important to me because it framed how I was approaching the game. This sounds odd, but if I had heard nothing about the game itself and played it, I would’ve maybe been more skeptical about whether or not it’s auto/biograpical).
So, I thought it was another interesting auto/biographical game – a game composed by an author of another individual’s games, which tell – or you are led to believe that they tell – a narrative of this person’s life and their relationship to the narrator. Without even playing it, the game, as described by the student, reminded me of Anna Poletti’s “Autobiography and Play,” in which she outlines the concept of “archive of play”: the play of the author with the data of their archive to assemble it into the narrative that readers or viewers read/see. Except for The Beginner’s Guide, the play of the author is not with their own data but another’s (and the author manipulates Coda’s games throughout the game so the player can access inaccessible areas or speed up the process). And more, games also introduce an additional “archive of play” – the player’s play. Though, the player’s play with the data in The Beginner’s Guide is highly limited to what Davey chooses.
But then I played the game. And then I read all of the hoopla over the game when it first came out in 2015. ***Spoiler Alert***
So one major discussion was: if these are Coda’s games, did Davey have his permission to use these games? (the narrative of the game suggests “no,” and Davey has those games because they had been sent to him in confidence). But the follow-up question is: who is Coda? And is he actually real? Or is Coda Davey himself?
These sets of questions are interesting to me from a Life Writing Studies perspective. Because Wrenden, the author, does not confirm or deny whether or not Coda is real, the game poses some serious ethical questions if he had simply used these games to create his own narrative (Davey says that the act is meant to reach out to Coda and to apologize). And, as many people pointed out when the game was released, this puts some ethical responsibility on the player, who plays the game, and the distributer of the game.
And even if Coda is “fictional” or about Wrenden, the game still questions the ethics of the player, the complicit willingness to go through someone’s private games.
I do not want think of The Beginner’s Guide as being purely fictional, though, as some suggested. If Coda is fictional and represents Wrenden himself, and that this “Davey” and “Coda” relationship represents different stages in Wrenden’s life, this is still approachable from a Life Writing angle. Or maybe Coda is someone else kept anonymous, but the games are Wrenden’s own (another suggestion), it’s still auto/biographical. All auto/biography has its artifice.
So I appreciate this student bringing this game to my attention. The game is interesting because how you choose to analyze it depends on what you choose to believe. The student did. But I also think that in order to discuss the ethics of the game, some kind of confirmation that Coda is a real person is needed.
So, I’ve got that game on my mind. But I’m also currently working through dissertation chapter revisions and marking. And it’s almost the holidays. So yeah, I’m looking forward to conference season to work out these ideas.