Creation of Narrative in Tabletop Role-Playing Games - Jennifer Grouling Cover [72]
Similarly, scholars of both narrative and rhetoric have discussed the power of storytelling, in general, to make sense of experience. W.R. Fisher’s (1984) article “Narration as a Human Communication Paradigm: The Case of Public Moral Argument” builds on MacIntyre, who argues that it was not reason but storytelling that separated humankind from animals. Thus, Fisher (1984) claims that narrative is the dominant paradigm for interpreting and understanding experience (p. 1). Similarly, Jerome Bruner (1991) sees narrative as “an instrument of mind in the construction of reality” (p. 6). Ochs and Caps (2001) stress narrative as a “sense-making process” rather than a “finished product” (p. 15). Narratives, then, seem to have direct relevance to society and the way that we interpret the world around us. They seem to serve a rhetorical purpose. However, the TRPG consists of fictional narratives, not personal stories about the AW. Current narrative theory has not always distinguished between fiction and nonfictional narratives and for good reason. Walsh (2007) points here to the influence of Hayden White and the argument that all narratives (White focuses on histories) are to an extent inherently fictional (p. 39). Yet, one might argue that the need for fictional narrative is not one of making sense of the world but about escaping from it. TRPGs have also been heralded for their escapist qualities. When players are immersed in a fantasy world, they may feel like they can escape from the AW. Certainly the world is fictional and the experiences depicted in the story, such as casting spells or speaking with orcs, are not directly analogous to real-world experiences. Murray (1998) explains that “a good story puts us safely outside ourselves” (p. 100). Fine (1983) explains that TRPGs do just that. They create a “world set apart from the everyday world” (p. 183). However, it seems to me that the position of narrative as meaning-making versus narrative as escapism do not have to be seen in opposition. Fine (1983) admits that even D&D’s fantastical events “are grounded in the physical world” (p. 183). Mackay (2001) agrees that TRPGs establish an “alternate reality” but that this reality is “derived from patterns established in the artifacts of popular culture” rather than actual events (p. 81). Escapism is a powerful draw of the TRPG, but in order for a world of fantasy to make sense, it must in some way connect to the AW.
Returning to possible-worlds theory, I offer an explanation of the connection that fictional narratives might have with the AW. Ryan (1991) explains that the principle of minimal departure states that when we create an alternate possible world (APW), we tend to interpret it based on our assumptions about the AW (p. 51). For example, in order for us to understand the entangle spell that David casts on the orcs in the Blaze Arrow story, we must assume that without the spell, orcs move freely about the earth in a manner much as we walk about ours. Because this assumption is in play, we are able to comprehend the idea that the entanglement spell prevents the orcs from moving normally.
TRPGs offer a particularly interesting test case for the principle of minimal departure because of the way they shift so quickly between real and imagined worlds. While we apply the principle of minimal departure to the characters in the fictional world (including the narrator), Ryan (1991) states that even in the case of first person narration we are able to differentiate the author from the narrator. As an example, she explains that if John Smith wrote a tale about a gnome named John Smith, the reader would not simply picture John Smith as a gnome but would understand that the gnome is a character separate from John Smith, the author (Ryan, 1991, p. 59). While a traditional narrative may allow the reader to separate author and narrator clearly, this separation becomes more complicated in