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My New Book!
My New Book!

Monday, December 11, 2023

December 11, 2023: Boston Tea Party Studying: Causes

[This coming weekend marks the 250th anniversary of one of the most significant events in Colonial America, the Boston Tea Party. So this week I’ll AmericanStudy a handful of layers to that important moment, leading up to a special weekend tribute to some of the many BostonStudiers from whom I’ve learned a great deal!]

On a few key 1773 moments along the way to the Boston Tea Party.

1)      The Tea Act: One of the many (many many) crucial historical issues about which I knew very little for much of my AmericanStudying life was the role of the British East India Company in American colonial and Revolutionary history (to say nothing, as that hyperlinked article notes, of its roles in the whole world during this period). It’s not just that the company dominated trade between so much of the world, but also and even more importantly that the English government was willing to do whatever it could to support that economic institution. One such step was the Parliamentary Tea Act, which passed in April 1773 and went into effect in May; the law granted the East India Company virtually sole rights over the tea trade between England and the American colonies. This was far from the first controversial such law—that would be the Stamp Act of 1765—but it was another key step in the road toward Revolution.

2)      Franklin’s Satire: If laws were one form of historical documents that helped precipitate those Revolutionary responses, another of course were the impassioned and activist writings—often anonymous or pseudonymous, but no less potent for it—produced by colonial leaders. In September 1773, four months after the Tea Act went into effect, the London newspaper The Public Advertiser published such a work by none other than Ben Franklin himself. Entitled “Rules by Which a Great Empire May be Reduced to a Small One,” Franklin’s essay was deeply satirical, poking fun at a number of British missteps but certainly dwelling at length on precisely the kinds of economic extremes comprised by laws like the Tea Act. It’s impossible to know whether the anger that led to the Tea Party would have happened without this textual encouragement, but again these different layers undoubtedly worked together at the very least.

3)      The Dartmouth: Four total ships left England in November 1773 with the first shipments of East India Company tea affected by the new law; one (the William) was lost at sea and the other three arrived in Boston a few weeks later, with the first to dock being the Dartmouth. As that first hyperlinked article above highlights, the Dartmouth had originated in Nantucket, reflecting the complex interconnections between American shipping and these English companies and laws. Indeed, as I’ve argued both here and in Of Thee I Sing about Revolutionary War Loyalists, that community were just as much part of America (and thus the new United States) as were the revolutionaries. The Nantucket Quaker Rotch family behind the Dartmouth (and a second of the four ships, the Beaver) offer one small window into those multiple American communities, all of which were present at the Boston Tea Party in December 1773 to be sure.

Next Tea Party post tomorrow,

Ben

PS. What do you think? Tea Party takes you’d share?

Saturday, December 9, 2023

December 9-10, 2023: Crowd-sourced Board Game Studying

[On December 1, 1948, a Connecticut inventor named James Brunot copyrighted a new board game called Scrabble. Like many great games Scrabble has endured and grown ever since, so for the 75th anniversary of that pivotal moment I’ve AmericanStudied it and a handful of other board games. Leading up to this crowd-sourced post on those and other great games—add your thoughts in comments!]

Larry Rosenwald follows up Monday’s post on Scrabble, writing, “Not part of what you'll cover, but it's always puzzled me that I'm so bad at Scrabble - I mean, I'm good with words in lots of ways, but winning at Scrabble requires (and cultivates) very specific skills, which I don't have.”

Betsy Cazden adds, “I had no idea Scrabble was a brand new thing during my childhood! We played it a lot.”

Ashlee Rhodes follows up Tuesday’s post on Monopoly, highlighting this podcast episode on the game’s origins.

Other BoardGameStudying takes:

Katherine N. Yngve highlights, “Settlers of Catan, maybe from a post-colonial perspective?” On a different note, she adds, “I think I learned from playing the board game 1776 that defeating the British is hard. How does the USA event exist?????”

Paul T.  Miller goes with Masterpiece, “a game that ostensibly helps one learn about art but is really an exercise in unbridled capitalism with profiles of uber wealthy and social dilettantes acquiring paintings the rest of everyone couldn't imagine even traveling to see in a museum. the game has million dollar bills!”

And Dr. Captain Abraham Tweets that “card and board games that are all about feelings and interpersonal communication capture America in the early 1970s perfectly.”

Next series starts Monday,

Ben

PS. What do you think? Other games you’d highlight?

Friday, December 8, 2023

December 8, 2023: Board Game Studying: Collaborative Games

[On December 1, 1948, a Connecticut inventor named James Brunot copyrighted a new board game called Scrabble. Like many great games Scrabble has endured and grown ever since, so for the 75th anniversary of that pivotal moment I’ll AmericanStudy it and a handful of other board games. I’d love your thoughts on these, others, and board games over for a competitive yet collaborative crowd-sourced weekend post!]

On the more common form of collaborative board game, and a unique alternative.

Back when I was writing regularly for the excellent Good Men Project, I published a piece on why I found it important when my sons were young to lose to them on purpose (if as subtly as possible) most of the times that we played board games together (which was a lot of the time!). That was over nine years ago, and certainly my perspective has entirely and appropriately changed over time; for many years now, in the far less frequent times we get to board game together in their increasingly busy lives, I’ve greatly enjoyed competing fully with them (and still losing to them quite often and quite happily, natch). But I still try to do so without the most toxic sides of what competition can draw out of any of us, and for that reason among others I have a special place in my heart for a particular genre of board game: collaborative ones, where the players work together to achieve a common goal.

Most of the collaborative games we’ve discovered and enjoyed fit a particular and familiar mold: there’s an external threat that’s drawing ever nearer, and the players have to work together to defeat it before it destroys them. Probably the best-known game of that variety is Pandemic, which we’ve gotten to play a couple times and found very challenging but fun; we’ve also enjoyed the multiple games in the Forbidden series (Desert, Island, Sky, etc.). Most games of this type can be pretty serious and even bleak, though, so we’re particular fans of Munchkin Panic, a collaborative game set in the delightfully silly world of Munchkin card games and featuring such threatening adversaries as the Gelatinous Octohedron and the truly terrifying Potted Plant. After all, if you’re playing a collaborative game of this type there’s a genuine chance that you could all die (otherwise, it wouldn’t be much of a game), and in that case I suppose we’d prefer to die feeling delightfully silly rather than serious and sad.

Because of our (well, definitely my, but I think the boys share it as well) fondness for collaborative games, I’ve also sought out others in the genre, including those that offer a different experience from that most familiar one. And by far the most unique and compelling one that we’ve found is Mysterium, an evocative and haunting game which asks the players to use images in complex ways to communicate with each other and solve a shared puzzle before time runs out. Mysterium’s collaborative gameplay and goals feel quite distinct from the more familiar type, which makes for a fun change of pace for folks like us who enjoy this genre overall. But it’s also just one of the most beautiful games I’ve ever seen, and there’s something to be said for immersing yourself in an aesthetically attractive and compelling world for those minutes or hours that you’re gaming with friends and loved ones. Meet you all at the gaming table!

Crowd-sourced post this weekend,

Ben

PS. So one more time: what do you think? Other games you’d highlight for the weekend post?

Thursday, December 7, 2023

December 7, 2023: Board Game Studying: War Games

[On December 1, 1948, a Connecticut inventor named James Brunot copyrighted a new board game called Scrabble. Like many great games Scrabble has endured and grown ever since, so for the 75th anniversary of that pivotal moment I’ll AmericanStudy it and a handful of other board games. I’d love your thoughts on these, others, and board games over for a competitive yet collaborative crowd-sourced weekend post!]

On three board games through which I learned a lot about war histories and stories.

1)      Ambush!: Ambush!, which began with a focus on post-D-Day European campaigns and then expanded to include Italy and the Pacific as well, stands out as (by far) the best solitaire board game I ever played. But its style of gameplay also captures the uncertainty and constant danger of warfare as well as anything I’ve encountered: as the player moves his eight squad members across the board in pursuit of each unique mission, anything and everything can suddenly transpire: sniper fire, the arrival of an enemy tank, an encounter with a civilian, a mine or other explosive device being triggered. Awaiting the results of each move was, as board games go, as nerve-wrecking as it gets.

2)      Sink the Bismarck!: Something about board games with exclamation points, I suppose. Inspired by one of the most unique naval histories in World War II, as well as the 1960 British film of the same name, Sink the Bismarck! was an incredibly complicated board game, and I’m not sure I ever played with every rule and feature (or even most of them). To be honest, I spent a good deal of time just examining the board, the pieces and cards, the rules and peripheral materials, learning not only about the game but also about the histories and stories connected to this famous German battleship, to the Axis and Allied naval armadas, and to all the complexities of naval warfare. I don’t think Michael Scott Smith would mind that outcome one bit.

3)      Gettysburg: Ah, the genius of Avalon Hill’s Gettysburg, a game that was at one and same time deeply grounded in the battle’s histories (the board alone taught me a great deal about the battle’s locations and landscapes) and open to each player’s and game’s unique choices (I still remember the time I had J.E.B. Stuart’s cavalry flank the Union lines and capture General Meade, winning the battle in one fell swoop; luckily for all Americans it didn’t really work out that way!). The battle and war are history, but the game made them come alive, made them new and meaningful for each player and experience. I owe much of my enduring love of history to precisely such effects.

Last board games tomorrow,

Ben

PS. What do you think? Other games you’d highlight for the weekend post?

Wednesday, December 6, 2023

December 6, 2023: Board Game Studying: Careers

[On December 1, 1948, a Connecticut inventor named James Brunot copyrighted a new board game called Scrabble. Like many great games Scrabble has endured and grown ever since, so for the 75th anniversary of that pivotal moment I’ll AmericanStudy it and a handful of other board games. I’d love your thoughts on these, others, and board games over for a competitive yet collaborative crowd-sourced weekend post!]

[NB. I wrote this piece for the Fitchburg Historical Society’s Summer 2020 newsletter, so it’s a bit longer than my usual blog posts, but it’s also too perfect for this week’s series not to include here!]

My sons and I have been serious board gamers for most of their young lives (they’re now 14 and 13 years old), but in this locked-down moment we have taken our board gaming to a whole new level. As usual that has meant multiple daily repeats of the same current obsessions, which at the moment includes a new favorite, the delightful card game Exploding Kittens; and a 1980s classic, Iron Crown Enterprise’s wonderful Middle-earth-set Riddle of the Ring. But this new reality has likewise required a deep dive into the backbench of our voluminous collection, assembled across many years, three apartments, and roughly three-dozen obsessions. At the bottom of one of our piles, hidden beneath larger boxes and thus far too long forgotten, was a game I had ordered from eBay many years ago: the 1971 version of Careers.

The original Careers (which we had played with my parents at their Virginia home, prompting our interest in ordering our own version of the game) was released by Parker Brothers in 1957. The 1971 edition kept much of the same design and gameplay, but offered, as the back of the box notes, “a bright, new board and some new career choices, like Ecology, which reflect the world of the 1970s.” And indeed, playing the 1971 game with two curious and thoughtful middle schoolers felt very much like entering a time machine and emerging in early 1970s America, to learn a number of interesting and at times frustrating lessons about that moment (and perhaps about legacies into our own).

As you might expect, gender was a particularly overt and eye-opening subject. The 60s women’s rights movement meant that the most blatant sexism of the 1957 edition—which featured for example a space called “Shopping Spree” in which “your wife” spent an exorbitant amount of your cash on hand—had disappeared. But the 1971 game still has a number of details which read quite differently in the era of #MeToo. In the “Big Business” career path, you can receive 4 hearts (a measure of happiness, but one often linked to relationships and love) for “Lunch with your secretary.” In the “Sports” path, you receive 2 hearts for “Play touch football with the girls.” And in the “Teaching” path, you receive 4 hearts when your “New principal is a bachelor,” which of course not only condones workplace romances with serious boss/employee and power dynamic issues, but also assumes that anyone going through the “Teaching” path is a woman (compared to the game’s overall default, which as these other “romantic” spaces suggest tends to be that the player is male).

That latter space likewise illustrates a second, somewhat subtler takeaway from the game: the cultural attitudes toward distinct career paths. Perhaps it’s because I’m a teacher so my sensitivity was up, but I found the attitudes toward teaching particularly striking. Besides that “bachelor” space and its assumption of teaching as a gendered (and romance-centered) profession, it’s interesting to note that teaching is the career which features the most happiness rewards, but through one specific and strange lens: of the three other happiness spaces in the path, two are framed as opportunities to not have to do the job at all (“Snow storm, no school” gives you 2 hearts; while the culminating “School’s out” space gives you 8, one of the game’s biggest happiness payouts overall). Taken together, these spaces create an image of teaching as a profession for women who are more interested in landing a powerful bachelor than, y’know, educating young people.

Perhaps the other most telling career path is “Space.” Just the existence of this career path at all reflects a very different historical moment than our own, the era of the 1969 Apollo XI moon landing and subsequent missions which made astronaut was one of America’s most desirable careers (as in the 1957 edition, “Space” is tied with “Sports” for the career path which offers the most rewards). Moreover, while some of the Space path’s rewards are for successes within the career itself (“Successful lift-off” offers 6 stars [fame], while “1st man on Mars” offers a game-high 16 stars), many others indicate that a career in Space is geared more towards celebrity than exploration. If you “Endorse Crunchies,” you receive a “$2000 fee”; if you “Sell your life story,” you “Collect $5,000”; and if you “Sell moon craters,” you “Earn $10,000.” Those financial rewards are second only to those available in the “Sports” path (and in both cases they are among the path’s culminating, most rewarding spaces), illustrating a pair of careers in which capitalizing on celebrity seems to be a chief pursuit.

While the American Studies scholar in me might have expected some of these details about 1971 attitudes, it’s also important to note a final category of lessons from the 1971 edition of Careers: unexpected, surprising details. For example, one of the biggest punishments in the “Politics” career path (and in the game overall) is the culminating “Caught with mink” space, which causes you to “Lose ½ your Fame”; I wouldn’t have said that the anti-fur and animal rights movements were prominent enough in the early 70s to occasion such a punishment (and it’s possible that they weren’t, as my fellow American Studies scholar father reminded me that VP candidate Richard Nixon had famously claimed that his wife Pat would never wear a “mink coat” in his 1952 “Checkers” speech). On the other hand, the “Big Business” career path features a number of surprising spaces which indicate just how fully (in the game’s imagining) the corporate world remained about cozying up and kowtowing to power rather than achievement or innovation: if your “Uncle is the treasurer” your salary goes up $1000 (which seems unethical and potentially illegal, but hey) and if you “Let Boss win at golf” it goes up $2000, while “Dent boss’s car” is one of the path’s negative experiences.

Perhaps the most surprising details are contained within the aforementioned, new “Ecology” career path. While the path is partly oriented toward scientific study (if you earn a “Science” degree in College you can enter Ecology for free), many of its spaces focus instead on the goal of living a more environmentally aware life. That includes both individual actions (both “Bicycle 50 miles to work” and “Invent self-destructing containers” earn you financial rewards) and collective goals (“A smog-free day” and “Swim in unpolluted river” both earn you happiness rewards). Since this was the only new career path in the 1971 edition, it’s fair to say that the creators wanted to emphasize both threats to the environment and opportunities for action with this addition to the game; just a year after the 1970 founding of Earth Day, then, the American environmental movement was clearly making an impact on national conversations and narratives.

Who said that homeschooling and play have to be two different lockdown activities? Next board games tomorrow,

Ben

PS. What do you think? Other games you’d highlight for the weekend post?

Tuesday, December 5, 2023

December 5, 2023: Board Game Studying: Monopoly

[On December 1, 1948, a Connecticut inventor named James Brunot copyrighted a new board game called Scrabble. Like many great games Scrabble has endured and grown ever since, so for the 75th anniversary of that pivotal moment I’ll AmericanStudy it and a handful of other board games. I’d love your thoughts on these, others, and board games over for a competitive yet collaborative crowd-sourced weekend post!]

On point, counterpoint, and counter-counterpoint when it comes to a complex game of capitalism.

I think it’s become relatively common knowledge that the board game which evolved into Monopoly was originally invented to be critical of that capitalist concept. But it still bears repeating just how fully and intentionally that was the case: Elizabeth “Lizzie” Magie (1866-1948), a radical feminist author and activist who subscribed to Henry George’s progressive and anti-monopolist economic theories, invented The Landlord’s Game in 1904 and began self-publishing copies in 1906 in order to educate the public on the dangers of monopolies. To that point (but perhaps also unintentionally complicating it, as we will see), Magie included two sets of rules with that original version of the game: a monopolist set that rewarded players for bankrupting their opponents; and an anti-monopolist set which rewarded each player when all players did well. I’ll dedicate a post later in the week to collaborative games, but it’s pretty interesting to think that Monopoly had the potential to be part of that genre.

That it did not evolve that way is due largely to a moment and person which together embody the worst kind of the capitalism that Magie and her game critiqued. The Landlord’s Game never achieved huge success but remained in distribution for the rest of Magie’s life, and at a 1932 dinner party in Philadelphia an unemployed man (as with the invention of Scrabble yesterday, this was the Depression era) named Charles Darrow played the game with a few friends. Darrow loved the game, took a written copy of the rules home with him that night, and apparently decided to start distributing it (with some changes to the rules and board, but with the core concepts the same) as his own invention under the name Monopoly. It was from Darrow that Parker Brothers originally bought the rights to the game in 1935, although to their credit when they learned about Magie’s version they also bought the rights to her patent. But while Parker Brothers may have done the right thing, Darrow clearly learned precisely the wrong lesson from The Landlord’s Game, and then some—he didn’t even purchase the property from which he would seek to make his fortune, but simply stole it from its rightful owner. (That’s my interpretation of a somewhat ambiguous situation, at least.)

In any case, after Parker Brothers acquired the game and (with the help of cartoonist F.O. Alexander) significantly developed the board and look, Monopoly took off and became the iconic board game it has remained ever since. One particularly interesting moment in that trajectory, and one that definitely relates to Magie’s original vision, took place in 1973, when San Francisco State University Economics Professor Ralph Anspach (1926-2022) published his own competing game entitled Anti-Monopoly (alternately known as Bust the Trust). Parker Brothers successfully sued for trademark infringement, but Anspach won on appeal, with the court ruling that monopoly was too generic of a concept to be trademarked; Anspach was able to keep producing his game for the rest of his life, even after a new 1984 law generally protected trademarks more rigorously. I won’t pretend to know the ins and outs of copyright law, past or present, but I will say that a game called Anti-Monopoly challenging Monopoly’s hold on the market is about as pitch-perfect for the origin story and inventor of this board game as any detail could get.

Next board game tomorrow,

Ben

PS. What do you think? Other games you’d highlight for the weekend post?

Monday, December 4, 2023

December 4, 2023: Board Game Studying: Scrabble

[On December 1, 1948, a Connecticut inventor named James Brunot copyrighted a new board game called Scrabble. Like many great games Scrabble has endured and grown ever since, so for the 75th anniversary of that pivotal moment I’ll AmericanStudy it and a handful of other board games. I’d love your thoughts on these, others, and board games over for a competitive yet collaborative crowd-sourced weekend post!]

On three examples of the moments and stages through which a game becomes an icon.

In 1931, an out-of-work New York architect (this was the Great Depression, after all) and gaming enthusiast named Alfred Mosher Butts wrote an article entitled “A Study of Games.” Butts was a particular fan of word games and puzzles like crosswords, and after analyzing countless examples of the genre like those found in the New York Times he decided to invent a game of his own that could replicate the experience of completing such puzzles but involve multiple competing players at once. At first he called the game Lexico, and it required the players to write down the letters and words themselves; but having had no luck marketing his proposed game to companies like Parker Brothers and Milton Bradley, in 1938 Butts added a board component, renamed the game Criss-Cross Words, and began manufacturing copies himself.

Butts wasn’t able to make too many of those self-produced copies, but one of them found its way into the hands of a Newtown, Connecticut social worker, Federal government employee, and would-be game designer named James Brunot. Brunot and his family loved Criss-Cross Words and believed it had potential; in 1948 he bought the rights from Butts (offering to pay him a royalty on every copy sold), changed a few of the rules and the name to Scrabble, and received the copyright 75 years ago this week. At first Brunot and his wife Helen likewise manufactured their own copies of the game, producing around 18 copies a day out of their Newtown home (which they renamed the Production and Marketing Company). But for whatever reason—and I do think the name change had something to do with it; Scrabble is a great name—demand was much higher, and the Brunots sold 2400 sets in 1949 alone, moving production to an abandoned schoolhouse as it expanded.

The third of these pivotal stages is a bit more ambiguous and might even be apocryphal—but what is the story of an American icon without some legendary details? As the story goes, the influential president of Macy’s department store, Jack Straus, played Scrabble while on a family vacation in 1952 and fell in love; when he returned to work he was frustrated to see that his stores did not carry the game, and demanded that they do so. Almost immediately the demand outstripped what the Brunots were able to produce, and they licensed manufacturing rights to the longstanding game company Selchow and Righter. No matter how much the Brunots were able to do, it’s unlikely that a home-manufactured game could ever have achieved the widespread popularity that Scrabble has; so whether the Straus story is entirely accurate or not, there’s no doubt that the 1952 transition to both department store sales and an existing manufacturer was a key moment in Scrabble’s evolution from quirky invention to one of the most successful board games in history.

Next board game tomorrow,

Ben

PS. What do you think? Other games you’d highlight for the weekend post?