The Alchemyst: The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel, a speculative fiction novel by Michael Scott, is a solid example of where the reader’s senses are evoked to great effect. In the excerpt below, Scott manages to appeal directly to three of the five, and implies a fourth. Exposition in fiction would go nowhere without visual descriptions, so it is a given that every author will use them, sometimes even to the point of excess.
Robert Jordan comes to mind with his penchant for describing blades of grass; the Wheel of Time turns slowly indeed. Unlike the more gassy storytellers, however, Scott’s prose is lean and precise, as he manages to stuff plenty of visual details into a small space simply by using the right words.
She was startled when the woman’s bright green eyes snapped wide open and she whirled around to look across the street…just as all the little square windows of the bookshop abruptly developed cracks and two simply exploded into dust. Wisps of green and yellow smoke curled out into the street and the air was filled the stench of rotten eggs. Sophie caught another smell too, the sharper, cleaner smell of peppermint. (p. 17)
Consider the use of snapped in the first sentence – intended to demonstrate the speed and thus the urgency in her expression. Yet snapped is also a sonic word, and while we can assume that the woman’s eyes did not make such a sound, it serves well as a beat, a moment preceding the rise of tension in the story. She then proceeds to whirl around, again a word that creates a visual, but also a sound, and even a feeling – the implied whipping of her coat as she turns, and the gust of air kicked up by the sudden movement.
We can also clearly picture the wisps of smoke, and not just any smoke, but green and yellow, which in the story are the colors of two opposing forces. We know from this description that an unseen battle is taking place behind those windows. So much detail, both explicit and implicit, simply by using the right visual cues.
But it would hardly be enough for an author to use visual descriptions and rely on mere implications of the other senses. It is also interesting to consider that a book heavy on visual language could be translated into Braille for a reader born blind, and for whom such words have much less, if any significance. Yet so many writers rely almost exclusively on visuals, to the expense of the other senses.
Sound is nearly as common, from the more obvious explanations of characters’ tones or inflections, to the more visceral onomatopoeia – bones crunching or innards squishing. Words like explosion are both visual and aural, the latter implied due to it involving windows, which allows us to hear glass shattering with our mind’s ear, even though it is not actually described. Before the explosion, we see the cracks forming, but again, a word like cracks serves a dual purpose. Implied is the straining and popping we associate with glass cracking as we recall similar events from memory. Scott could have easily spent another few sentences describing the sounds, but in this case it is unnecessary for all that is implied through our own experience.
Touch is probably a close third in a writer’s repertoire, as they describe the feeling of the icy winds biting exposed skin, or the sharp penetration of a blade through flesh for the person on either side of the knife. Scott makes ample use of touch throughout the novel though not in the above paragraph.
It seems especially rare, however, that an author will tap into the reader’s sense of smell or taste, except for under the most trite of circumstances like breathing in the wind off of the ocean or sampling the greasy starches and sugars of a doughnut for breakfast. Such things tend to be inconsequential, arbitrary details the author throws in just for the sake of doing so.
But for Scott in The Alchemyst, the sense of smell is evoked for significant reasons. In the above paragraph, he describes the odors of rotten eggs and peppermint. Much like the colors green and yellow, these two smells are also associated with one of the protagonists and one of the antagonists. Each of the two characters is a sort of magician – an alchemist and a necromancer to be specific – and when they invoke their powers, these odors of rotten eggs or peppermint fill the air.
Even if we had not already been told, we might automatically associate yellow – a color of caution or sickness – with the rotten egg smell, and the green – of leaves, and indeed mint – with peppermint. And we’d be correct. It is interesting to think of how a different juxtaposition of the same elements might disrupt a story’s believability. Would it cause a sort of dissonance if, in fact, the yellow smoke carried the peppermint odor? I think so. Or what if the “good guy” was the one who used powers that reeked of rotten eggs? He might make for a rather unlikeable sort, certainly not the person you want on your side in a fight for the sake of the world.
What The Alchemyst in general, and the above paragraph in particular demonstrate, is how the reader’s senses can be tapped not just for the sake of creating a scene, but also infusing it with nuance, with meaning. Within the context of the novel, these details, which might be applied to say, a cooking accident in another book, convey so much more than just how the characters physically experience the world. They express all the tension and urgency of high stakes conflict and even combat, all without mentioning any of those things explicitly. Evoking the senses is one of the most powerful tools that an author can use, one that can give spare prose like Scott’s the same impact as that of a more flowery writer.
This post could also be entitled: “Uncharted 2 and Why I Can’t Enjoy Anything Anymore.“
Let me preface this rant by saying that Uncharted 2 is a remarkable game, on both technical and aesthetic levels. It is in fact the PS3’s “killer app” and is well-deserving of all of the accolades it has received thus far. I have been playing it for the past two weeks and I am still discovering little details that demonstrate both the level of skill and love for the craft that can go into a triple-A title. But perhaps it is for all those accolades and that demonstration of skill that I must call the game out on a several fronts.
I’ve had discussions with various people – particularly African-Americans – about video games where they expressed to me their problem with the prevalence of white protagonists. They felt a disconnect from the characters they were playing for this reason, felt they couldn’t “relate” to them. For a long time, whenever I had this conversation, I thought it was silly.
Afterall, there were plenty of ways/reasons to identify with a character outside of race/ethnicity. Most of these games were taking place on other worlds, where our racial categories did not exist. Even where themes of discrimination were visited, as in Chrono Cross, it was a problem between humans and some actual other race – like Elves or Metahumans. What did it matter that the heroes in these worlds happened to be blue-eyed blonde-haired ubermensch? I’m looking at you, Cloud Strife.
In an earlier post, I discussed the need for designers to incorporate a wider range of ethnicities in video games. As to why they haven’t done so up to this point, and why the few non-white characters tend towards stereotypes, I offered up one possible explanation.
Part of the reason for this is that a large number of games come out of Japan, which being nearly homogeneous in terms of ethnicity, and insulated – both physically and culturally – may lack a strong frame of reference for depicting a diverse cast of characters. Where the games are made in the Europe or the United States, where ethnic variety is more common, stereotypes may instead emerge as a consequence of one-dimensional writing. Perhaps a developer cannot be bothered to do the research into all of the nuance and idiosyncrasies that rise from a character’s ethnic experiences.
Jade from Beyond Good & Evil
While those developers who have at least made the attempt to be more inclusive should be acknowledged, it is more important to point out where more work needs to be done. I am almost six years late in discussing the case of Jade from Beyond Good & Evil, but an interesting post by Jason over at Microscopiq brought the issue to my attention. The post discusses the “first 11 black video game stars”, specifically those characters of visible African descent who were not only featured in games, but were the main character. Jade was amongst those mentioned.
At a glance, some – if not most – people would question whether or not Jade qualifies as “black” in any sense. Arguments could be made for virtually any ethnicity as her appearance is quite ambiguous. The only solid support for Jade being a “black” heroine is in looking at the original concept art, which featured some earlier renditions of Jade with either locks or braids in her hair, and features more commonly associated with certain peoples of Africa.
Jade Concept Art
From the concept stage to the final version, much was changed, and we have a character who could pass for virtually anything.
There are many possible reasons for the change, such as wider market appeal, as an ethnically ambiguous character alienates no one. It is also a truism that the mainstream beauty standard – set mostly by Americans and Europeans – is not inclusive of distinctively “non-white” features, particularly Africanesque features. For marketing’s sake – and this literally could’ve been a decision made by marketing against the wishes of the original designer – Jade could have been altered to resonate more with the mainstream. Looking at the final version, is it enough to say that Jade was intended to be “black” by the designer, or even that she is so in his/her mind, in order to claim her as such? I would say that it isn’t.
Jade’s ethnic ambiguity alone, however, is not enough to dismiss her from the ranks of black heroines. After all, blackness is subjective, varying from place to place and culture to culture. If we take it to be synonymous with “African”, then the ethnic diversity of that continent means that Jade could look like anything. But here’s where we get to another important point.
Jade is most certainly not African. Because she is not even from this planet. Beyond Good & Evil takes place on the fictional world of Hillys, where people like Jade are classified as “homo sapiens”, distinguished from other humanoid races such as “Capra Sapiens” (goat people), “Sus Sapiens” (pig people), and “Felis Sapiens” (cat people). The concept of race that divides human populations on Earth simply does not exist on Hillys. For that matter, there are no social divisions between any of the “Sapiens” – they are subclassified solely for the sake of compiling a photographic catalogue of all of the planet’s species. That is to say, these distinctions are biological, and do not manifest at all in the culture of Hillys.
This is an important point, because the meaning of “blackness” on planet Earth is defined mostly in a social context. There are some vague overlaps into a biological context – some valid, particularly with regards to medicine, and some not – where genetics is cited incorrectly to support a social or political argument. Without getting too much into the meaning of blackness, there is the experience of so-called “black people” to be considered, which historically, and with few exceptions, tends to be one of hardship, oppression, social inequality, prejudice, and even dehumanization. This is particularly true of those peoples of Africa who were sold into slavery, and who even in the aftermath, have been forced to face social and economic oppression.
Coming back to video games, what would be required for a character to be considered “black”? Appearance could be one qualifier, but as we see in the case of Jade, this can become dubious due to the wide variety of physical characteristics that can be classified as “black”, a reflection of the extreme diversity to be found within such a vague and subjective category.
The “black experience” could be another qualifier, as in a situation where a character is forced to face certain indignities, in spite of her ethnic ambiguity. There are undoubtedly women who resemble Jade and who have been forced to endure such conditions. In the United States, by way of the one-drop rule, it is common for a woman of fair skin to be deemed a “black” woman by virtue of her other features, and therefore share in the black experience. Jade as she appears in Beyond Good and Evil, however, fails to meet either of these qualifiers.
Cree Summer
The only remaining qualifier brings us back to the designer’s intent. Without speaking to Michel Ancel or his art team, we cannot know which ethnicities inspired Jade’s appearance from original concept to final incarnation. Perhaps then, we could derive clues from the voice actors chosen to play Jade. We have to take this with a grain of salt, however, because the ethnicity of voice actors do not necessarily match those of their characters. Cree Summer, who is African-American, is one of the most prolific voice actors in the field, and because her voice does not invoke any particular ethnicity, she has been tapped to play a wide range of characters – most of which are not African-American or “black” in any sense. She got her start playing Penny from Inspector Gadget.
Penny from Inspector Gadget
What this suggests about the willingness of game producers to cast black actors for their voices versus their willingness to craft black roles may be another subject worth exploring. As for Jade, since the game was released in different languages, she was played by several different voice actors. But with respect to how Jade’s voice corresponds to her ethnicity in the mind of the developer, we should take a look at the actor closest to the developers – Ubisoft Montreal – which would be the one cast for Jade’s French voice. Her name is Emma de Caunes, and thanks to the artist John Karp, we can see her picture below modified to resemble Jade.
Emma de Caunes as Jade
Even had Jade’s voice actress been of any French-African ethnicity, it would’ve been a stretch to therefore consider the character as being of any African ethnicity. The example of Cree Summer demonstrates the distance between the identities of voice actors and their characters. In any case, Emma de Caunes is not of any visible African descent, and therefore we cannot use her ethnicity as a case for Jade’s “blackness”.
This brings me to my final point about Jade, which is that in spite of the developer’s original intent, any ethnic inspiration for the character, how Jade is perceived by her audience may be even more important. By looking at a few random samples of fan-created art for Jade, we can gain some insight into how others perceive her ethnicity. An extensive spread of Jade fan art can be seen at the deviantART Beyond Good & Evil Fan Club, where not one rendition depicts Jade with Africanesque features.
Because an artist’s work will necessarily be based in part on their personal experiences, and probably in some way reflect the artist him or herself, it stands to reason that the artist’s own ethnicity may factor into how they depict a character. What we see is that in spite of the varied ethnicities of the artists, not one of them depicted Jade with features any more distinctively Africanesque than what we see in the official Ubisoft rendition. Had these artists had even an inkling that the developer intended Jade to be “black”, then it may have been more likely that we would have seen that understanding reflected in their work.
While we cannot discount the possibility that Jade’s features would’ve been “de-ethnicized” even had she been more clearly Africanesque – as is common amongst fan artists of Storm from Marvel Comics – we can at least say that nothing about Jade seems to encourage fans to depict her as “black”.
So in the end, based on overwhelming evidence, we are forced to conclude that Jade from Beyond Good & Evil is not “black” in any sense of the word. For the reasons discussed above about how races are defined, and how they do not correspond to any human categorization on the planet Hillys, she cannot accurately be considered “white”, “Asian” or any other race/ethnicity from Earth. She can only barely be classified as human, being a “homo sapien”, but those who have played the game also know that she is a little something more. I’d like to count Jade amongst “black” female protagonists in video games, due to the fact that there are otherwise none, but doing so actually sets a weak precedent.
It is not enough to be inspired by Africanesque features, only to see that inspiration disappear for the sake of market appeal. And it is regressive, if not plain insulting, to create a character of color – in terms of background and appearance – only to completely undo it in a future incarnation, as in the deplorable example of Vanessa Lewis from Virtua Fighter. Note the lighter skin, thinner lips, altered facial structure, and reduced hips from the Virtua Fighter 4 version (background) to the Virtua Fighter 5 version (foreground).
(Vanessa Lewis | Background: VF4 Foreground: VF5)
As technology improves, and as the content of games expands in terms of breadth and depth, opportunities only increase for representing diversity. In the future, it will not be enough for a character to have darker skin, thicker lips, or a different eye shape. We will have to see different cultures and experiences represented as well. This wouldn’t have to be a limitation with regards to restricting the game setting to Earth.
After all, there is always interstellar or cross-dimensional travel. There is also alternative history. And already, plenty of creators have told stories of other worlds, only to draw inspiration from the experiences of the peoples of Earth, because doing so adds a certain richness and credibility.
As I discussed in Ethnic Depictions in Video Games, there has been a want for protagonists of color with which gamers of color can identify. If gamers cannot identify on a superficial level – i.e. by appearance, if they cannot identify on the basis of a common social experience, and if they cannot identify by way of voice, then there is little remaining to connect them to the character. For most gamers this probably will not taint their experience with a game, as the lack of inclusive ethnic representation has become the norm.
But there is certainly a call, albeit muted and scattered amongst the more thoughtful pockets of the gamer population, for game developers to be more inclusive in their thinking.
The Escapist – an online publication best known for analyzing and discussing video games as a cultural phenomenon, rather than a mere form of entertainment, is currently discussing racial [in]sensitivity in games. The article Gangbangers, Victims, and Whores by Christina González, which discusses how Latinas are depicted in games, is a particularly insightful read.
The timing for this week’s Escapist happens to coincide with a bill proposal in the New York State Assembly also taking aim at racial insensitivity in video games. Sponsored by Assemblyman Keith L.T. Wright, the bill seeks to:
Prohibit the sale to minors of certain rated video games containing a rating that reflects content of various degrees of profanity, racist stereotypes or derogatory language, and/or actions toward a specific group of persons.
While this bill may just be the latest in what seems to be an endless crusade on the part of the state of New York against the gaming industry, the concerns raised by Wright are legitimate. Race and ethnicity, and how they are depicted in video games, has been a point of contention ever since games started receiving serious consideration as media. One point that is often made – and that I have made myself – is that video games are severely lacking in hoisting non-white characters to the status of main protagonist.
Those of us who are not white, but hope to identify with the characters we play in games the same as anyone, find the industry to be deficient. At best we have had to settle for ethnically ambiguous characters, often in non-Earth settings, which while fulfilling an aesthetic need still leave players wanting for a more substantial connection. When characters of non-European ethnicities are depicted in video games, it is true that they are often stereotypes.
Barrett from Final Fantasy VII
Part of the reason for this is that a large number of games come out of Japan, which being nearly homogeneous in terms of ethnicity, and insulated – both physically and culturally – may lack a strong frame of reference for depicting a diverse cast of characters. Where the games are made in the Europe or the United States, where ethnic variety is more common, stereotypes may instead emerge as a consequence of one-dimensional writing. Perhaps a developer cannot be bothered to do the research into all of the nuance and idiosyncrasies that rise from a character’s ethnic experiences.
So Wright is valid in his concerns about racial stereotypes in that they not only leave players without a character with which to identify, but with a caricature that debases them or their culture. Where I think Wright is wrong, however, is in thinking that the solution to the problem lies in more restrictive legislation. Most games with racial stereotypes are also mature-rated games, and laws are already in place to protect minors from playing them. The efficacy of these laws is questionable, and so simply imposing a second and redundant law is not likely to fix the situation.
In my opinion, it’s necessary for lawmakers to start recognizing games themselves as an extension of culture, to place them within the general category of “the arts”. Viewed that way, games may be held to a higher standard, as are film and literature. Rather than restrict the sale of a game with objectionable material, perhaps it would be better to encourage developers to release material that is less objectionable, or that at least places it in its proper context. For example, were game developers to be provided an incentive, such as an arts grant or tax subsidy, they may be more inclined to develop culturally relevant and accurate games. Recognizing games as art could inspire more developers to create games as art, rather than simply to turn a profit.
The restriction on mature-themed games, up to and including the blacklisting of anything receiving the “Adults Only” rating, has done nothing to stop younger players from experiencing them. Even where parents are educated as to what’s out there and mindful of what their children are playing at home, they cannot monitor what their children are playing when they aren’t watching, or what they learn by proxy from peers who have played games with objectionable content.
It would be more more effective to reward developers who perform admirably, who raise the bar in creating games as art, rather than punishing those who produce fluff. The fluff will continue to exist, of course, because sometimes those games are just plain fun. But they could be balanced by an increase in the alternative – games with real substance.
Game developers could then take the time to craft characters and settings that are three-dimensional – in how they’re written as well as how they’re rendered. Three-dimensions allow for dynamic characterization and provide room for development beyond stereotypes and caricatures.
