[Forty years ago this weekend, Nintendo released its first game system, and video gaming and American culture changed significantly. So this week I’ll blog about a handful of other games that likewise changed things, leading up to a weekend post on Nintendo!]
On three
takeaways from the pioneering educational game.
I used
“pioneering” there not just for the Dad Joke-worthy pun (although duh), but
also because it highlights the most obvious and important historical issue with
The Oregon Trail, one I
wrote about in this blog
post: the absence of Native Americans, Mexican Americans, and really
any ethnic American communities from its vision of the West. I didn’t notice
that absence at all as a kid enthralled by the game, and that’s precisely the
point: Oregon Trail played into
stereotypical visions of American pioneers, and indeed like all
popular art that traffics in stereotypes it also amplified and further
entrenched those limiting images. I’m not suggesting that the game should have
focused centrally on Native American communities, nor that a children’s video
game had to include graphic depictions of war; every game has the right to
choose its own subject and to present it in a way that’s appropriate for its
audience. But a game set in the mid-19th century American West needs
at least to include the communities and cultures that are part of that world,
and on that question Oregon Trail
came up very short.
With that
most important thing said, there are also other historical lessons we can learn
from what Oregon Trail’s designers
did choose to include. Another one that would be easy to miss (and that I’ll
admit I hadn’t thought about at all until brainstorming topics for this post)
is the deeply solitary nature of the Trail as the game portrays it. I didn’t
have a chance to play the game while researching this post, but as I remember
it at least the player really doesn’t see any other wagons or people between
leaving Independence,
Missouri and arriving in Oregon. Perhaps players do encounter waystations
for supplies or the like along the way, but I’m thinking here about other
travelers, about the idea of wagon
trains (which as I understand it were a typical way for families to traverse
the Trail). I understand the game’s goal of forcing players to deal with
all the myriad challenges themselves, rather than offering them the possibility
of relying upon other families for aid—but that choice does seem to reinforce
another stereotypical American image, that of “rugged
individuals” (rather than what to my mind is a far more shared historical
experience, of communal survival).
I don’t
want to emphasize only frustrations with the game’s portrayal of its historical
subjects, though. After all, there are reasons why Oregon Trail was one of the most successful video games of its era,
and indeed why it remains successful today, as it’s one of the only games from
my childhood that my sons have also heard of and played. And one of the things
I think Oregon Trail does best is
capture the profoundly fraught and contingent nature of life (and death) in its
mid-19th century moment. The most famous such element is the
constant threat of illness, especially that damn
dysentery. But while some such negative outcomes (like getting one of those
diseases) were mostly due to chance and bad luck, many others emphasized
contingency—how one bad decision could produce disastrous and even fatal
outcomes, not only immediately (ie, if you choose to ford a river that’s too
deep or wild) but also far down the road (ie, if you purchase the wrong
supplies and end up stuck or dead hundreds of miles later). Given hindsight,
the past can sometimes feel inevitable or predetermined—but it was of course
just as contingent and unfolding as our present and future, and in its specific
but significant way Oregon Trail highlighted
those realities quite potently.
Next
GameStudying tomorrow,
Ben
PS. What
do you think? Video games, past or present, you’d analyze?
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