video games on The Sidewise Historian

History Made Fun

[Ningyang Chen] — Sat, 30 Jan 2021 00:00:00 +0000

Dreadful memories of a dreaded subject

For a schoolkid brought up in China in the late 2000s, history and other ‘fact-heavy’ subjects were never all that appealing. I remember having a difficult time cramming my brain with unending lists of significant historical events and figures whose names included some of the least memory-friendly combinations of Chinese characters. And as I failed to detect any correlation between the two (except perhaps some random mnemonic associations), the taught formula – who did what when where why – did little to decrease my anxiety towards the subject. Despite my considerable efforts, the unflattering exam results invariably suggested that history was not my forte. Even in the rare cases where I managed to get a decent score on a test, I would flunk it completely if I retook it the next day, since the information would refuse to stay any longer than overnight. I felt sad and upset about my lack of interest in the subject, as we were taught since childhood that learning these ‘facts’ by heart was the least we could do to stay connected to our cultural roots, as it were, and to pay due respect to the nation’s great history.

I was not the only one who suffered the misery of learning the subject in this constraining way, though. My fear and distress were shared by many of my science-minded classmates, who found memorizing the periodic table a lot more pleasant. Understandably, I bid an early goodbye to my most dreaded subject by choosing to become a college student majoring in English. I knew that as a humanities student, I would be reading history somewhere along the way, but taking the subject off the menu as the main course offered no small relief. Above all, it relieved me of the burden of memorizing stuff taught in a way that made one believe that it was the ultimate truth, the only way in which one ought to approach things that had happened in the past. Inquisitive student though I was, I spent much of my pre-college years being sceptical about the value of rote-learning things perceived as important yet meaning little to me.

A turning point

In my sophomore year as an English major, we studied an essay entitled ‘Why Historians Disagree’ by Allen Davis and Harold Woodman, compilers of Conflict and Consensus in American History. That piece of writing included what struck me then as the most rational and sensible arguments about history as a substantial domain of knowledge. The authors’ closing remark even aroused in me a desire to read up on some of the ‘disagreements’ generated in the field: ‘When students realize that there is no one easy answer to the problems historians raise and that “truth” is but an elusive yet intriguing goal in a never-ending quest, they will find the study of history to be a significant, exhilarating, and useful part of their education’. As a result, I began to read bits and pieces of history, mostly written in English, and was amazed at its lively diversity, which invited and made room for reflection and exploration. Though one does not normally need to develop literacy in a foreign language to relearn and appreciate the learned accounts of history in one’s native culture, this is how things turned out in my case.

A relook a decade later

It was not until a decade later, however, that I took a serious look back at my dreaded school subject. To my delight, I have begun to notice subtle changes in the teaching and learning of history in the local context, with technologically enhanced methods developing rapidly in response to the pressure to modernize and internationalize the subject. In particular, as the notion of gamification becomes increasingly trendy in the global discourse of education, a host of less rigid teaching and learning approaches have emerged, one of the most contested of which is the use of digital historical games. It is not that I belong to a generation with no access to similar fun alternatives. It is just that back in my school days the connection between learning and gaming had not been meaningfully established in a context where a social stigma about gaming prevails to this day.

My first realization of the changes came from my aunt, who has been teaching for over twenty years as a secondary school history teacher in China. As I noticed that she seemed to be enjoying more leisure time than before, I asked her what had happened. ‘The students now have access to a wide range of resources; they can figure out their ways to learn and choose what they like’, she explained, ‘and they prefer the more fun way, which means I can have some fun myself’. Married to a devoted gamer-cum-pharmacist, she readily embraces the idea of edutainment and encourages her students to try new, fun ways to learn the subject. Her only daughter has grown up to be a game guru, and this senior computer science major dreams about becoming a game developer in the future. That my twenty-year-old cousin outperforms me in both history and gaming is not surprising. That I lack the experience to properly construe the idea of historical games is not surprising either. Yet I’m taken aback by the changes that seem to have been taking place in a system famous for its ‘exam-driven education fever’.¹ Could it be the case that history is now being made fun for Chinese schoolkids as well? A combined keyword search for ‘history’ and ‘game’ on Baidu (the Chinese Google) compelled me to explore further.

As my search results show, high on the list of titles popular among Chinese players are Uncharted Waters, Nobunaga’s Ambition, Epic of the Grand Regent and Romance of the Three Kingdoms by Koei, as well as Europa Universalis, Crusader Kings, Victoria and Hearts of Iron by Paradox Interactive. While Chinese players seem to have a taste for imports, domestic developers and publishers may have some catching-up to do in terms of consumer base expansion. A number of gamers shared their experiences on social media sites of how game-playing assisted their learning in one way or another. One devoted gamer recalled his writing from memory a full list of countries involved in World War I in record-breaking time when he was twelve, which stunned everyone, including his history teacher. Another recounted turning her hobby into a research interest and completing an MA with a thesis on the translation of foreign history-themed games. Still another made a thorough analysis of the portrayal of China across the four most popular Paradox games and suggested reasons for its overall powerful image in these titles.² Interestingly, this research-minded gamer took notice of a number of subtle discrepancies between what he had read in his secondary school textbooks and what he had found in Hearts of Iron III. As our textbooks record it, prior to the Anti-Japanese War, the Republic of China had not yet entered an era of heavy mechanization. In the game, however, the supposedly light machinery equipment was used to produce heavy weaponry, with tanks assembled in looms and aircraft carriers constructed in flour mills. While the gamer did not go so far as to argue that the developers had intended to give the country an in-game advantage, he did note that the contrast between the in-game scenario and the historical reality was amusing.

Loose details such as these may bother the stern-faced historians who cannot tolerate the smallest fabrication in accounts or stories, yet most gamers are kept too cognitively occupied during the game to be bothered by the occasional deviations the virtual reality presents. At the same time, they seem to remain fully aware of the distinction and respect what comes to be known as the ‘historical fact’, as stated in the parenthetical disclaimer to Lin’s post: ‘All the descriptions of the powerful countries in the above games under discussion have nothing to do with the real history’.³ All seem to subscribe to the understanding that history is more than just a video game. Moreover, with some care and knowledge, they may engage themselves not only deeply but also critically with the game and expect to get more out of it than a trophy.

Reflections on the changing landscape

Honestly, when it comes to history in the sense of happenings beyond our experience of time and space, nobody knows for sure what the reality is, and one can only seek ways to approximate that reality. While textbooks offer one such way, games can serve as an equally valid one. Yet we intuitively find the former more authoritative, reliable and serious than the latter, given our received attitudes towards an academic versus an entertainment genre. Overall, it could be this sharp perceived contrast that stands in the way of legitimizing gaming as a beneficial way of learning.

In comparison with the traditional method of spoon-feeding ‘facts’ to students, gaming offers a fun alternative by engaging students in an interactive experience of history. What is remarkable here is the imaginative dimension gamification adds to the scene. Although it is a long way from revolutionizing the history curriculum, it does help relax our perception of history and the way it is narrated and interpreted. In the Chinese context, history can be approached in two distinct ways: the official, authoritative, orthodox way, known as the zheng shi (standard histories), and the folkish, unsanctioned, unorthodox way, the ye shi (wild histories). The former is upheld as the most appropriate, desirable interpretation that best serves the interests of the country and its people.⁴ Given its ‘venerable tradition of official historiography’,⁵ it is no surprise that history textbooks in the country’s secondary schools offer a uniform account that discourages alternative understandings, hence the pressure to memorize things to be passed on as cold, hard facts.

In this regard, the host of opportunities the gamification of history offers may outweigh the betrayal and distortion of the historical record it possibly induces. The liberation from the conceptualization of history as the presentation of indisputable facts can only be beneficial. After all, history cannot be imposed on individuals who, as equal inheritors of the past, have a right to find their own ways to connect to that past. They should be trusted to explore history with judgements they make based on personal knowledge and experiences. History can be made fun and meaningful by engaging individuals in creative efforts towards mining the riches of the humanities.

Lan Yu and Hoi K. Suen, ‘Historical and Contemporary Exam-Driven Education Fever in China’, KEDI Journal of Educational Policy 2, no. 1 (2005): 17–33. ^[return]
Zhiwei Lin, ‘“P she si meng” li de zhongguo tai qiang le [China Is Portrayed as a Great Power in the Four Popular Paradox Interactive Products]’, Chuapp.com (blog), 13 September 2017, http://www.chuapp.com/article/284074.html. ^[return]
Lin, ‘“P she si meng”’. ^[return]
One documented example of this strategic interpretation can be found in Chairman Mao’s particular interest in historical studies. In reviewing a Chinese historian’s writings on the civil war history of China, Mao praised the stance the author took in writing his work: ‘It is good for you to clarify in your book your judgement on fighting back and surrender. It would help the ongoing anti-Japanese war if you condemn surrenders in South and North Dynasty, South Song, Late Ming and Qing and hold them as negative examples while eulogizing those who fought against the invaders’ (original in Chinese; my translation). See Mao Zedong, Maozedong shuxin xuanji [Selected Correspondences of Mao Zedong] (Beijing: People’s Publishing House, 1983), 136–37. ^[return]
On-cho Ng and Q. Edward Wang, Mirroring the Past: The Writing and Use of History in Imperial China (Honolulu: University of Hawai‘i Press, 2005), xiv. ^[return]

Video Games: Rewriting History in the Public Mind?

[Wenqing Peng] — Thu, 21 May 2020 00:00:00 +0000

A very interesting phenomenon aroused my attention when I was watching a Chinese TV show. The show featured a game in which one of the participants was asked to act out (without speaking) the well-known historical figure Xiang Yu (项羽, 232–220 BC). The contestant performed just three actions, and his partner immediately got the right answer. This made me really confused, as the three actions didn’t suggest anything related to Xiang Yu to me, but everyone both on the show and in the audience seemed to understand them straight away. I then took some time to learn more about these actions and discovered that they were famous as representations of Xiang Yu’s skills in the multiplayer online battle arena Honor of Kings (王者荣耀), a video game so prevalent in China that almost everyone has heard of it – even if, like me, they’ve never really played it.

For me, mention of the name Xiang Yu brings to mind key phrases like ‘general of Chu’, ‘strong character’, ‘proud’ and ‘brave’, as well as the famous story of ‘his rejection of being captured after his defeat and committing suicide on the bank of the Wu Jiang River’ (霸王乌江自刎). Xiang Yu’s heroism has been glorified in Chinese stories and poems, such as the one by Du Fu (杜甫): ‘Jiangdong has no lack of brave lads among its offspring, / Who knows if a comeback might not be in the offing’ (江东子弟多才俊,卷土重来未可知). Even Xiang Yu’s farewell to his concubine Yu Ji has moved countless readers across the centuries to tears. Xiang Yu himself composed a number of songs, and his last, written shortly before his defeat and death, has become well known in history:

力拔山兮气盖世, 时不利兮騅不逝。騅不逝兮可奈何, 虞兮虞兮奈若何!

I could pull mountains down, oh! With main and might,
But my good fortune wanes, oh! My steed won’t fight.
Whether my steed will fight, oh! I do not care.
What can I do with you, oh! My lady fair!

—Translated by Xu Yuanchong (许渊冲)

So, do contemporary TV audiences and other ordinary people in China immediately think of these key words and famous poems when they hear the name Xiang Yu? Probably not. What comes more easily to mind are the more popular actions of the general’s video game counterpart. Is that a sad commentary on modern society? It’s hard to give a simple answer.

Personally, I would rather the public remained aware of historical facts and retained images of figures more closely related to real history, as real history and classic literature are important representatives of our culture as a whole. However, we cannot deny other ways of reshaping history; even in some classic literary works, such as San Guo Yan Yi (Romance of the Three Kingdoms), we find many adaptations of historical facts, but these works remain classics nonetheless. Why shouldn’t we grant the same licence to video games?

Though they do not represent an authorial way of reshaping history, video games, as a relatively new form of culture, ‘play’ with history in their approach to the past. As Andrew B. R. Elliott and Matthew Wilhelm Kapell note, ‘When history can be simulated, re-created, subverted, and rewritten on a variety of levels, new questions arise about the relationship between video games and the history they purport to represent, questions that traditional historical approaches cannot properly address’.¹ Historical video games create a different relationship to the narrative and experience of history. Even if the game designers’ intentions in engaging with history are innocent, and they genuinely try to construct a past world as authentically as possible, players are not exposed to a faithfully reproduced past, but to a version deeply influenced and reshaped by the fact that it is being presented in a game that they are trying to win. That is why Xiang Yu’s in-game actions have become so profoundly embedded in today’s Chinese youth culture as a major part of the image of that historical hero. This makes us rethink the question ‘What do we mean by history?’

Andrew B. R. Elliott and Matthew Wilhelm Kapell, ‘Introduction: To Build a Past That Will “Stand the Test of Time”: Discovering Historical Facts, Assembling Historical Narratives’, in Playing with the Past: Digital Games and the Simulation of History, ed. Matthew Wilhelm Kapell and Andrew B. R. Elliott (New York and London: Bloomsbury, 2013), 1–29, 2. ^[return]

Book Review: Playing with the Past, edited by M. W. Kapell and A. B. R. Elliott

[Simon Coll] — Mon, 09 Dec 2019 00:00:00 +0000

Matthew Wilhelm Kapell and Andrew B. R. Elliott, eds., Playing with the Past: Digital Games and the Simulation of History (New York and London: Bloomsbury, 2013) (Website/Google Books)

For a lifelong fan of video games who has more recently developed a sideline as a historian, the chance to review this book was too good to pass up. As its title suggests, Playing with the Past brings together a collection of essays on the ways in which games present, discuss and promote understanding of historical topics, from the joint perspectives of ‘narratology’ (that is, a focus on story) and ‘ludology’ (the analysis of gameplay).

While not itself a work of popular history, therefore, the book explores a medium that has enormous potential to popularize historical events and processes – and, more importantly, to encourage a mode of historical thinking more sophisticated than anything games are usually given credit for. The editors elaborate on this in their introduction, citing in particular Sam Wineburg’s research on the use of games to enhance learning in schools. According to Wineburg, the main difference between the historical outlook of school students and that of historians lies not in their level of knowledge, but in their understanding of the nature of history:

For the students, history is what is written in the textbook, where ‘facts’ are presented free of bias. For the historians, historical inquiry is a system.… It is a way of knowing based on using specific evidence to support claims rather than trying to establish a set of facts that exist without bias. (p. 15)

The transition from the former mindset to the latter is one familiar to students of history at any level from undergraduate onwards. From relatively uncritical faith in the authority of history as presented in textbooks and historians’ narratives, they are required to progress to an appreciation of history as process, unfolding as a result of a series of decisions and turning points – which, crucially, could have had different outcomes.

This is what Kapell and Elliot mean when they refer to ‘historical contingency’, that sense of the dependency and fragility of historical events that is especially important to an understanding of why they occur. They argue that a major advantage of video games, and one that allows them to serve as an educational tool even inadvertently, is that they encourage players to understand, and indeed exploit, this idea of contingency in order to succeed. Most of the contributions to this volume focus on analysing the ways in which different games attempt this.

Within this overall goal, however, this study incorporates an impressive variety of perspectives and debates. The book is organized thematically, with each of its five sections exploring a different way in which history and video games intersect. These sections include an examination of causation, teleology and other concepts related to the process of history (Part One); a survey of games confronting questions of Western cultural bias and politics of representation (Parts Two and Four); as well as more unusual angles, such as a collection of essays on the issues raised by modding and user-generated content (Part Three); and a section on counterfactual historical scenarios and the ways in which they reflect the social and political concerns of the present (Part Five).

The games investigated in these sections also cover a surprisingly wide range, moving beyond explicitly historical games (such as Civilization, Age of Empires or the Total War series) to more intriguing choices (including the Fallout and Resident Evil games). Standout chapters include Josef Köstlbauer’s study of simulation games, Tom Apperley’s discussion of mods as an expression of ‘counterfactual imagination’, Hyuk-Chan Kwon’s contribution on the Romance of the Three Kingdoms RPG series in China, and Joseph A. November’s and Tom Cutterham’s essays on the Fallout games.

Equally importantly, the essays in this book also take into account the peculiarities of video games as a medium – that is, as products that are played, and whose interactivity is key to their significance. It is this ‘ludic’ quality of games above all that makes them particularly well suited to popularizing the idea of historical contingency, and rendering it comprehensible on an almost instinctive level.

Games are distinguished from other forms of narrative or historical exploration by the agency that they grant their players, which allows them to influence the outcome, or at least the details, of the plot. In choosing one action, or trying to bring about one outcome, over another, players automatically engage in a decision-making process that hinges on an appreciation of all the relevant chains of cause and consequence. By presenting this process within a historical scenario (either real or imagined), games encourage players to apply their knowledge of these causal relationships to their view of history. This applies, moreover, even to those games without an explicit educational remit – as the inclusion of titles such as Resident Evil and Call of Duty in this volume illustrates. This ludic strand of the book’s approach is especially apparent in Part Three, as well as those chapters (such as Rebecca Mir’s and Trevor Owens’ contribution on Sid Meier’s Colonization) that unpick the ways in which a particular game’s expectations or victory conditions reflect the cultural and historical assumptions of its designers.

Since it is undoubtedly true that more people play video games than will ever dedicate themselves to an in-depth and critical study of history (and this is certainly no bad thing), Playing with the Past is a profoundly important, as well as entertaining, investigation into the hidden depths of the medium. As such, it is enthusiastically recommended.

This is a (slightly revised) version of a review I wrote for History to the Public in 2015. If you’re sorry this post is over, feel free to read the original here.