Michael Harrison over at the Wired Blog provides an interesting review of a book that sounds, at least by its marketing, as a must-read for any adult who delved into role-playing as a kid. However, while I will still most likely take a stab at reading this book, it’ll probably be for a very different reason than I (and Harrison, as he notes in his review) would have expected.
Harrison’s review of Mark Barrowcliffe’s The Elfish Gene: Dungeons, Dragons, and Growing Up Strange correctly notes that the book, its cover, and its pitch all point to a whimsical, nostalgic reflection of a childhood where, through certain awkward stage’s in many boy’s life development, they participate in role playing. However, Harrison reports that Barrowcliffe’s book, while a fascinating read, is much more consistent with a memoir of an individual who has yet to come to terms with his past, and instead blames the messenger. Of course, I’ll have to read the book myself in order to form an informed opinion, but on the face of it, I would have to agree with Harrison’s take: to the extent that someone’s childhood was so negatively impacted by various difficulties (including bullying), one can hardly blame Dungeons and Dragons for any excess a child or adolescent shows towards gaming. Fact is, most kids who do play role-playing games (or any other game, for that matter), play it with a healthy moderation. Of those who once went too far, most will, with adulthood, be able to look back on their period of uber-geekdom with at least some degree of humorous self-deprecation. If an adult has not, and does not feel they can, come to terms with any painful experiences of their past, the thing to do is to work through it, not dump on the available coping mechanism at the time, which was overused. Short form: If you are an adult and obsessively playing a role-play game (or anything else obsessively), that is “the messenger;” take a look at whether you are living the life you want. If not, figure out what you need to do to improve it
If Harrison’s portrayal of Barrowcliffe’s take on gaming is accurate, then my take is not to indict D & D for the difficulties Mr. Barrowcliffe experienced, but rather to hope that Mr. Barrowcliffe (and anyone else who retreats into gaming or any other activity excessively) learns to deal with their past experiences in a way that allows them to moderate their activities, and achieve a healthy, functional balance in life. On the other hand, as Harrison notes, this simply proves too difficult, it may be that certain obsessive types need to avoid the obsessive material. Most kids who play role-playing games, even if socially awkward at some point, eventually develop those skills necessary to interact with the world in a more functional manner. That someone doesn’t is not an indictment of the game, but rather an indication of the difficulties being experienced by the person. Cutting oneself off from their avenue of escapism may be most effective for those most struggling in this manner, much like the alcoholic having to give up alcohol completely in order to allow other parts of their life to emerge. However, switching escapist avenues, which is what the author apparently did (into heavy metal music) actually reinforces the avoidant behavior.
This book certainly, at the very least, sounds like a great read. I like Harrison’s take on this book in the context of Nick Hornby’sHigh Fidelity, another work that examines how a man can avoid maturity, difficult situations, etc. through a retreat into obsessive interest in a certain, comforting activity. In High Fidelity, the protagonist ultimately demonstrated some insight into his reluctance to engage the world on its terms, and to start taking chances, be proactive, and, basically, live. It doesn’t sound as if Barrowcliffe has reached that point. If Barrowcliffe had written High Fidelity, it sounds like the end of the book would have blamed music for Rob Fleming’s difficulties in relationships and in life, rather than Fleming’s own unwillingness to take the steps necessary to address those problems. On the other hand, maybe Harrison's got it wrong; it's possible Barrowcliffe has worked through this stuff, and it is Harrison who is overreacting. I know one way to find out for sure - stop typing about it, and read the dang thing!
This is a post I may have to revisit once I read this book, which is now on my “To Read List,” currently at approximately 28,246 books at last count...
Oh, and here is a link to Barrowcliffe's blog, if you are interested. Some fun posts, particularly about "most Fantasy Song Ever." Yes, Rush would have to be on that list somewhere...
Do take a look at the blog today.
I thought the Wired review was fair and balanced and -most importantly from my point of view - positive.
However, I do take issue with his point that I blame D&D for ruining my youth or that I'm a trembling wreck today. I'm also not at all embarrassed about some of the silly things I did. I'd be more worried if I'd grown up without doing anything like that.
And when I say I wasted my youth, er, I thought that was what you're meant to do. God forbid a child should be dull enough to actually achieve something.
If my children ever look like achieving anything, I spark up Grand Theft Auto and point them towards the control pad.
Hope you enjoy the book if you get to read it.
Mark Barrowcliffe
Posted by: Effilc Worrab | November 08, 2008 at 12:44 PM
Hey, nice to have a post from the author! I appreciate your comments, and as I said (thankfully! I always appreciate a disclaimer when it covers my...) I'll have to read the book in order to get a sense of where Harrison was coming from, versus your take. In any event, it definitely sounds like a great read, and I'll definitely write an updated post once I've read it.
Posted by: Jeremiah Dwyer | November 08, 2008 at 11:23 PM