All of this week’s readings used elements of literary criticism to examine digital games. All three authors were quick to note that there wasn’t complete overlap, but the tools of literary analysis are certainly in play here. In his piece, Aarseth notes that, at least according to the state of the humanities at the time of his writing, “nothing can be studied that is not already within a field” (p. 16). He critiques this approach, but also warns of going too far in the other direction by assuming that the games field is entirely unique because of the new medium.

Juul’s examination of the paradox of failure was, for me, one of the more compelling ideas discussed in this reading. He compares failure to reading tragedies or watching horror films, but again is careful to note that there is not a complete overlap. I think Juul made a few other perceptive points in this piece, too. He distinguishes between the rule systems of games and the actual fictional worlds within those games themselves. So for instance, “to win or lose a video game is an actual, real event determined by the game rules, but if we succeed by slaying a night elf, that adversary is clearly imaginary” (p. 25). I’ve never considered before how game players, myself included, almost subconsciously fluctuate between these two perspectives.

Juul also distinguishes between failure that occurs when a player is playing by his or her self against an AI and system of rules, and failure that occurs when playing against other humans, either in a video game such as a first person shooter, or analog games like Settlers or tennis. I would argue that the differences between these two forms of failure are greater than Juul makes them out to be, almost to the point that they are different sensations entirely. The single player failure is expected in games, as Juul demonstrates we are likely to be unhappy with the game if this doesn’t occur. Nevertheless, it is a process that we are quite used to, one that helps us to learn to play the game better and often incentivizes the use of the full range of features available to us in a game. Failure in human competition is quite different. Though it may inspire us to reevaluate our tactics, we can never go back and undo our failure. When we complete a video game, we tend to think of it as just that. We don’t consider it in terms of a won-loss record, which would usually feature 1 win (beating the game) and something like 4,327 losses (at least if your gaming skill is anything like mine). With games like settlers or tennis, however, it is a different story. There is no “beating the game” involved, and losses, though they can educate, are not really part of a process of completion in the same way.