The Journal of Interactive Narratives
Video games have emerged as a transformative narrative form with a wealth of material for critical analysis. To establish the up-to-date scholastic discourse games now merit, J.O.I.N is dedicated solely to the study of interactive narratives and aesthetics.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Drowning Olympus: The "God of War" Series as Inverted Flood Myth

By Dominic Palmer


“At any rate, if one adds earthquakes, famines, plagues, etc., it is likely, on present evidence, that ‘catastrophe’ can be considered as a universal or a near-universal theme in mythology” (Kluckhorn 272).

“We created a world of peace, a world of prosperity, a world that lives in the shadow and safety of my mountain. A mountain that has come to be the absolute measure of strength and power. Now, on this day, that power is to be tested. The mortal Kratos, seeks to destroy all that I have wrought.” (God of War III)

Poseidon's Death (Warning: this video contains graphic violence)

Near the beginning of God of War III, the ocean levels rise when Poseidon falls at Kratos’ hands, drowning everything and everyone beneath Mount Olympus. As Kratos’ assault on the Olympians continues, other gods fall, leaving the world covered in plague and darkness. On a literal level this final chapter seems but an epic tour of vengeance for series (anti-)hero Kratos, who Zeus realizes has become “death itself, the destroyer of worlds” (God of War: Ghost of Sparta). But a consideration of the cataclysm’s figurative import shows that the story concerns more than simple destruction; God of War III’s chaos instead represents a conclusion to the inverted flood or “catastrophe” (Kluckholn 272) myth suggested by the series entire. Enid Peschel claims that in the catastrophe myths of most cultures, “the deluge comes as punishment; the survivor is obedient to the deity; and recreation, established along the culture’s religiously described lines, reverts to origins” (Peshcel 117). The Old Testament’s tale of Noah exemplifies such a structure. As the story goes, an angry God cleanses the Earth of corrupt men but allows one righteous man (and his family) to survive and propagate, thereby inspiring future generations to strive for piety. In effect, Kratos’ role and actions throughout the God of War series turn this traditional structure on its head.


The gods atop Mt. Olympus

In the series’ first game (chronologically, not developmentally), God of War: Chains of Olympus, Kratos has “pledged himself as champion to the gods of Olympus” (God of War: Chains of Olympus), who have promised him freedom from his sins in return for his service. Athena asks him for “unquestioning obedience” (GoW: CoO) and Kratos obliges, beginning a grueling quest to save a kidnapped Helios. At this point he seems to exemplify the role of the flood myth’s pious man—a character who, as posited by Enid Peschel, is central to the flood myth, where the only survivors are ones “obedient to the deity” (Peschel 117). Yet early on, it is clear that Kratos stands in opposition to such traditional obedient figures. For instance, Charon initially suggests to Kratos that “we are both slaves to the Olympians,” and the titan Atlas informs him he that has forgotten his proper relation to Olympus. He asks, “What good is the promise of an Olympian?” prompting Kratos to admit, “It is all I have” (GoW: CoO). Indeed, it is but the promise of obedience that remains, not obedience itself. Kratos even confides to Eos in the sun temple that he feels he has become “but a slave to Zeus and Olympus” (GoW: CoO). As early as this point in the game we can see, therefore, that Kratos’ opinion of the Olympians is jilted and skeptical, making him unlike the blindly obedient religious figures central to previous flood myths.
In God of War, the next game sequentially, Kratos sees for the first time the prospect of freedom from the gods—a freedom foreign to the relatively powerless characters in other catastrophe myths, where the deities doling out punishment seem omnipotent. With Kratos supposedly approaching the end of his service to the gods, Athena promises him that, should he save her city from Ares’ siege, the gods will finally forgive him. Kratos then seeks out Pandora’s Box so that he may kill Ares and prevent Athens’ destruction. When he succeeds, it seems that he has both prevented catastrophe and, for the first time, escaped the gods’ control, as he has killed his former master, one of the Olympians.


Zeus vs. Kratos

But Ares’s murder and Athens’s salvation belie a dark conspiracy; the murder does not yet signal the series’ irrevocable change in the relationship between gods and men, as the other Olympians desired Kratos’ victory all along. Because they remain in control of Kratos (and never actually grant him freedom from his sins), the balance of power does not yet shift. His continuing inequality becomes all the more clear at the beginning of God of War II, when Zeus revokes the godly powers temporarily granted to Kratos and kills him. Explaining that Kratos could have kept his powers, had he made choices more wisely during the events of God of War: Ghost of Sparta, Zeus places the blame for Kratos’ misery on Kratos himself. But Kratos describes the situation far more accurately, saying, “A choice from the gods is as useless as the gods themselves” (God of War II). Vowing revenge on Zeus, he miraculously escapes Hades and seeks to murder the Sisters of Fate—the only avenue by which he can gain true freedom from the gods. When he succeeds in killing the deterministic Fates, he finds himself finally independent. Without their ability to control all mortals’ destinies, Kratos can act outside the gods’ will and lead an assault on Olympus. This begins the traditional myth’s inversion where a mortal, rather than a god, initiates a worldwide deluge.
In God of War III, the mortal-led cataclysm begins, strongly distinguishing this tale from the myths where the “ineptitude of humans” causes the flood (Birrell 216). Kratos pledges during God of War II’s conclusion to “bring the destruction of Olympus” (GOW II), a “punishment” (Peschel 116) for the gods rather than mortals. In the third game he makes good on his word, tearing through gods and titans alike, all of whom he sees as symbols of an archaic social and religious order. Each of these deities’ deaths results in worldwide catastrophes, ridding the world of Olympus’s remnants and allowing for a new order, rather than recreating “the culture’s old religious system” (Pescher 118). The rage flooding Olympus and the cataclysm left in Kratos’ wake thus conclude the series-long inverted deluge myth.


Zeus looking upon the destruction

God of War’s catastrophe motif represents the slow death of the religious order, as well as the death of all superior and deity-like beings. While other stories often feature one pious man’s survival above the flood, Kratos, feeling he has cleansed the world both within and without after ridding the world of Zeus’ tyranny, commits suicide atop Mount Olympus. This final violent act emphasizes the anti-religious cleansing, leaving humanity free from the gods’ oppression. Furthermore, beyond simply preventing the otherwise infinite parricidal cycle of godly violence (i.e. a son of Kratos would eventually then kill Kratos), this final sacrifice also suggests that a less brutal, more secular age may finally emerge, one in which the will of humanity will take the place of the destructiveness of nature to serve as a mechanism for new social change.

Sources

Birrell, Anne. “The Four Flood Myth Traditions of Classical China.” T’oung Pao, Second
         Series, Vol. 83 (1997), pp. 213-259.
God of War. March 22, 2005. Sony Computer Entertainment. June 2011.
God of War II. March 13, 2007. Sony Computer Entertainment. June 2011.
God of War III. March 16, 2010. Sony Computer Entertainment. June 2011.
God of War: Chains of Olympus. March 4, 2008. Sony Computer Entertainment. June 2011.
God of War: Ghost of Sparta. November 2, 2010. Sony Computer Entertainment. June 2011.
Kluckhorn, Clyde. “Recurrent Themes in Myths and Mythmaking.” Daedalus, Vol. 88, No. 2,              
          Myth and Mythmaking (spring, 1959), pp. 268-279.
Peschel, Enid Rhodes. “Structural Parallels in Two Flood Myths: Noah and the Maori.” 
          Folklore, Vol. 82, No. 2 (Summer, 1971), pp. 116-123. 

Monday, June 6, 2011

Call for Submissions!

We are seeking insightful, cogent and concise works of criticism, approximately 1,000 to 2,500 word in length, focusing on a specific aspect of video game narrative or form. Essays need not be limited to the analysis of only one video game per piece and may range anywhere from one particular scene or character to a game or genre as a whole. While we encourage writers to submit analyses of current video games, we recognize that older games also merit discussion.

Contact us at info.interactivenarratives@gmail.com.
Wise Fool on Radio: Three Dog’s Role as Shakespearian Jester in Fallout 3
 by Timothy H. Smith


            Early in Fallout 3 the host of Galaxy News Radio (GNR) introduces himself as “Three Dog—jockey of discs and teller of truth.” He explains his interest in “fighting the Good Fight” and believes his broadcasts provide a necessary contrast to Enclave Radio’s propaganda. He presumes (correctly) that Enclave President John Henry Eden has less than admirable intentions and aims to “tell the Wastelanders what time is it is.” But the oftentimes silly dissident is more than a merely amusing distraction for players; he is also the narrative’s self-reflexive centerpiece. Through his commentary and song selections he actually functions much like Shakespeare’s famous fools, enriching, contextualizing, and commenting upon the game’s central narrative.


Three Dog

            Discussing the jester’s role in King Lear, Lawrence Green writes, “The Fool is continually focusing on Lear from different directions which shift as quickly as Lear responds to them” (Green 261). In Fallout 3, Three Dog similarly reacts to the player-controlled Lone Wanderer. His response to the character’s taking a break from the main quest to find the Declaration of Independence for the Capitol Preservation Society is perhaps most illustrative of his humorous—but insightful—reflections on the character’s decisions: “The kid has recovered one of this country's most important historical artifacts—the Declaration of Independence. Huzzah! The time of British oppression is finally over! Now we can finally turn our attention to the super mutants, raiders, and radscorpions.” Three Dog’s reports on events’ ramifications also remind the Lone Wanderer of his influence (or lack thereof) across the Capitol Wasteland. For example, should the player fail to save a town from super mutants, Three Dog will broadcast, “Now, I've got new reports from the settlement known as Big Town. Somethin' about super mutants takin' residents prisoner... All I know is the kid could have helped, and didn't. Nice going, asshole.” On a smaller scale he will refer to the character’s general reputation, calling him the “Scourge of Humanity” or “Ambassador of Peace,” among several other possibilities.
And while he may not sing self-reflexive songs like his predecessors—such as Feste does throughout Twelfth Night—Three Dog does jockey songs that resonate consonantly within the Fallout universe. The Ink Spots’ “I Don’t Want to Set the World on Fire,” for example, speaks to the game’s central conflict between personal interest and communal responsibility as early as the first cinematic. The song’s opening lyrics, “I don’t want to set the world on fire/ I just want to start a flame in your heart,” mirror the initial position of the Lone Wanderer, who has been chased out of his comfy underground vault into a harsh nuclear wasteland. Exiting Vault 101, the Wanderer seeks out his father for answers but finds himself forced into a struggle over water sources. As competing influences pull him in different directions, he loses any hope for a pleasant, anonymous lifestyle with the last remaining member of his family. And with his father’s eventual death he has nothing left to do but act as possible messiah. The verse’s lyrics, “I’ve lost all ambition for worldly acclaim./ I just want to be the one you love./ And with your admission that you feel the same,/ I’ll have reached the goal I’m dreaming of,” therefore function ironically, as the Wanderer ultimately has no choice but to “set the world on fire”—one way or another. Such is the tragedy of the song’s inclusion, for his personal interest is inevitably squashed by the responsibility he has thrust upon him. Becoming either hero or villain of the wastes is his only option, thereby furthering the irony that the world has already been set on fire literally, anyway. 
            Other songs on Three Dog’s GNR reflect less on the plot but do contextualize the Lone Wanderer’s unpleasant quest. Danny Kaye’s “Civilization” progresses from the position of a person in the jungle unwilling to move to the cities, singing, “Bingle, bangle, bungle I'm so happy in the jungle, I refuse to go./
Don't want no bright lights, false teeth, doorbells, landlords, I make it clear/ That no matter how they coax him, I'll stay right here.” In a clear case of dramatic irony, the song, which was written before the war, presents a cynical view of civilization that civilization has since justified with nuclear destruction: “They have things like the atom bomb,/ 
So I think I'll stay where I ahm
./ Civilization, I'll stay right here.” Also on GNR, Roy Brown’s “Butcher Pete” accentuates the game’s violent aesthetic: “Butcher Pete’s got a long sharp knife
. /He starts choppin’ and don’t know when to stop
. / All you fellas gotta watch your wives/ 
‘Cause Pete don’t care whose meat he chops.” This story of a man chopping women like meat mirrors the behavior of raiders and slavers the Wanderer meets throughout the Wastes (and potentially even the player himself, should he choose to act malevolently).
As a DJ trying to “always dazzle ‘em and spread the word,” Three Dog is thus jockeying in a way that jives with A. J. Close’s succinct definition of Shakespeare’s fools, who are “connoisseurs of the different species of human folly, and are adept at demonstrating, by urbane satire, that their fellow-men are as much fools as they” (Close 350). Basically, Fallout 3’s Three Dog may be goofy and bark foolishly, but at least he barks wisdom, allowing the Wanderer (and by extension the player) to reflect on his behaviors in much the same way one of Shakespeare’s wise fools provoke thought among a production’s participants. His character ultimately reminds people that effective storytelling techniques transcend particular artistic mediums and work in literature and interactive platforms alike.
[Final Note: It is therefore unadvisable for those wishing to explore Fallout 3’s narrative fully to shoot Three Dog with a laser pistol.]

Sources
Close, A. J. “Sancho Panza: Wise Fool.” The Modern Language Review Vol. 68, No. 2 
           (Apr., 1973), pp. 344-357
Fallout 3. Version 1.7.03. July 31, 2009. Bethesda Softworks. June 2011.
Green, Lawrence D. “Where’s My Fool? Some Consequences of the Omission of the Fool 
           in Tate’s Lear.” Studies in English Literature, 1500-1900 Vol. 12, No. 2, Elizabethan 
           and Jacobean Drama (Spring, 1972), pp. 259-274