As promised, a post about giants
So Joe sent the Thursday Night crew's mailing list links to four posts on Jonathan Tweet's blog on Gleemax. There was one on the storied tradition of gaming group in-jokes, and a pair that revealed to me the influence of Doctor Strange on early D&D art. One in particular, a synecdoche illustrating how novel D&D's appropriation of myth and folklore really was, had me in its thrall. But then I picked up my book and said, "nu-uh!" in a Fridge-Logic-like moment of realization. I'm getting ahead of myself, though.
For those who refuse to follow links, Tweet describes the traditional, indirect methods for dispatching giants: chopping down the beanstalk, of course, as well as tricks, traps, misdirection, lies, and finally miracles. Along came Gygax's Against the Giants series:
Young fantasy enthusiasts of today can't appreciate the breakthrough that was the cover of G1 Steading of the Hill Giant Chief. While fairy tales taught us that giants needed to be outsmarted, G1 told us all that Option B was to assemble your friends, draw your swords, and cut the giants down. Today, the cover is unremarkable, even pedestrian. In 1978, it was a revelation.
His argument in the post is framed in terms of folklore vs D&D, but it shifts slightly when he reiterates his point in the comments, "...killable giants may have started before D&D, but D&D is what brought it home."
I'm no medievalist, but Cervantes seems to imply that Chivalric Romance was full of this kind of stuff. So in chapter 47 of Part One of Don Quixote, the canon goes off on Romances to the curate who's trying to cure Quixote of his madness. In chapter 48, their discussion turns to the state of theatre in Spain. Luckily, we're saved from further literary criticism when the party decides to take their siesta. Sancho uses this opportunity to convince his master that he's not enchanted by asking, quite awkwardly, whether Quixote feels the urge to urinate.
Where was I? Oh yeah! Here's an excerpt from the canon's rant from chapter 47:
But what beauty or what structural harmony can there possibly be in a book or story where a youth of sixteen gives one slash of his sword at a giant as tall as a steeple and slices him in two halves as tidily as if he was made of almond paste?
Not to mention Quixote trying to take on a gang of windmills. These aren't the only examples from our past; this giant isn't quite steeple-sized, but even King Arthur gets in on the action!
Still, the sentiment in this response, that folkloric giants are emblematic of the lies we tell children to keep them safe, struck a chord with me. If Steading of the Hill Giant Chief is about facing adult problems with your friends, what, if anything, do all of these pre-D&D power fantasies about killing giants mano-a-mano say?
Speaking of Jonathan Tweet, I've been lobbying to get the Thursday Night Crew to play his games Everway and Over the Edge. I actually didn't play a role-playing or story game last night Jeff and Mona brought Fantasy Flight Game's Battlestar Galactica board game. I'd heard lots of good things, a few bad things, and some funny things, so after a few gut-wrenching minutes of internal debate, I decided not to run Ghost/Echo. As a direct result of this decision, I discovered that BoardGameGeek has Twitter integration, and I had a fun time to boot. I'll write more thoroughly on the subject if I run out of zany ideas next week.
For those who refuse to follow links, Tweet describes the traditional, indirect methods for dispatching giants: chopping down the beanstalk, of course, as well as tricks, traps, misdirection, lies, and finally miracles. Along came Gygax's Against the Giants series:
Young fantasy enthusiasts of today can't appreciate the breakthrough that was the cover of G1 Steading of the Hill Giant Chief. While fairy tales taught us that giants needed to be outsmarted, G1 told us all that Option B was to assemble your friends, draw your swords, and cut the giants down. Today, the cover is unremarkable, even pedestrian. In 1978, it was a revelation.
His argument in the post is framed in terms of folklore vs D&D, but it shifts slightly when he reiterates his point in the comments, "...killable giants may have started before D&D, but D&D is what brought it home."
I'm no medievalist, but Cervantes seems to imply that Chivalric Romance was full of this kind of stuff. So in chapter 47 of Part One of Don Quixote, the canon goes off on Romances to the curate who's trying to cure Quixote of his madness. In chapter 48, their discussion turns to the state of theatre in Spain. Luckily, we're saved from further literary criticism when the party decides to take their siesta. Sancho uses this opportunity to convince his master that he's not enchanted by asking, quite awkwardly, whether Quixote feels the urge to urinate.
Where was I? Oh yeah! Here's an excerpt from the canon's rant from chapter 47:
But what beauty or what structural harmony can there possibly be in a book or story where a youth of sixteen gives one slash of his sword at a giant as tall as a steeple and slices him in two halves as tidily as if he was made of almond paste?
Not to mention Quixote trying to take on a gang of windmills. These aren't the only examples from our past; this giant isn't quite steeple-sized, but even King Arthur gets in on the action!
Still, the sentiment in this response, that folkloric giants are emblematic of the lies we tell children to keep them safe, struck a chord with me. If Steading of the Hill Giant Chief is about facing adult problems with your friends, what, if anything, do all of these pre-D&D power fantasies about killing giants mano-a-mano say?
Speaking of Jonathan Tweet, I've been lobbying to get the Thursday Night Crew to play his games Everway and Over the Edge. I actually didn't play a role-playing or story game last night Jeff and Mona brought Fantasy Flight Game's Battlestar Galactica board game. I'd heard lots of good things, a few bad things, and some funny things, so after a few gut-wrenching minutes of internal debate, I decided not to run Ghost/Echo. As a direct result of this decision, I discovered that BoardGameGeek has Twitter integration, and I had a fun time to boot. I'll write more thoroughly on the subject if I run out of zany ideas next week.