nkeirle

Has anyone else been reading The Luminaries? I finished it a while back and haven't been able to get it out of my head. It's just incredible, but I'm finding it kind of hard to pin down exactly why. No one I know has read it, despite my overbearing recommendations, but it'd be really awesome if anyone here fancies a chat about it.

Man, it frustrates me to no end the way so many fantasy worlds just have a kind of incontestable, in-world canon (especially when every merchant and town guard is happy to regale you with these stories at the drop of a hat). History isn't just interesting because interesting things happen in history; in large part it's interesting because of the conflicting accounts and the grey areas and the difficulty of pulling something together with any kind of narrative coherence. When a games developer says something like "We've created ten thousand years of history and lore for our game" it nearly always feels like they're missing the point. Like, there's a reason History undergrads don't just read Hume's The History of England and call it a day. History is one of the most conflicted, shifting field of inquiry there is - you can't just write 'John founded the kingdom of Johnplace in the year 338, and he ruled with a benevolent hand for many years, before The Dark appeared.' and call it lore, or call it history. I mean, you can, but you suck. Have people in your game disagreeing about the facts. Have varying, conflicting mythologies and interpretations of events. Have people outright lying to you. Have a book with a heavy-handed introduction exclusively dedicated to slagging off a competing historical scholar. In conclusion: Morrowind is one of the only games that do history well, and might only be topped by The Void, which is definitely the best at history.

When I think about it, Morrowind is probably the game that formed 90% of my interests when it comes to both fantasy worlds and games in general. Years later, weird, intricate, carefully-crafted fantasy worlds are like my gaming crack. And not only was Vvardenfell a huge, varied place to explore, but unlike Oblivion, Skyrim, and so many open world fantasy settings since, it was weird and intricate; mysterious and intimidating; old and lived-in. I still remember making barefoot pilgrimages to holy sites, stumbling across Ashlander tent-settlements, and desperately searching through bookstores to find out why the dwarves suddenly all disappeared. Opening the game case and laying that huge, glossy map across the table to pick out new places to travel felt pretty amazing. And nearly every little thing in the world contributed to its unique sense of place, from the open xenophobia of many of the native Dunmer, to the way that the cultural encroachment of the empire (as well as the Nords in the very north of the map) is felt in varying degrees throughout the island through something as simple as competing architectural styles. It felt like Bethesda put so much thought into every little aspect of the game, and these details really made the game what it was. Yeah, it's mechanically pretty broken, and yeah, plenty of games have made bigger, shinier, more grandiose game worlds, but so few have ever had the weird, byzantine glory of Morrowind.

Yeah, that does suck. But it's a pretty tiny book, so even with the hardcover it's not bulky or anything.

Massively late to the party, I know, but I picked this up on a whim a few months ago and it hit me hard. I was amazed with Barnes' ability to write a book with three such radically different sections (a brief history of ballooning, a fictionalised account of a bohemian affair, and an account of Barnes' own grief at the death of his wife), and not only make each part individually beautiful, but somehow weave them all together to make a greater statement about life. Need to form a book club just so I can get more people to read this.