Near Myths: exploring the wisdom of games

Ever since I discovered the power of games, I've suspected that they are more powerful than I guessed. I'm beginning to think that they may be, in their playful way, the kind of archetypes that Jung describes as "primordial images and symbols found in the collective unconscious, which - in contrast to the personal unconscious - gathers together and passes on the experiences of previous generations, preserving traces of humanity's evolutionary development over time. " I've come to see them as mythical metaphors, as Joseph Campbell has come to understand myth and metaphor. They are a theater without dialogue, a literature without words, each one revealing its wisdom in play.

In my essay on the children's game of Hot Bread and Butter I note that:

"Hot Bread and Butter," among other things, represents an idea of power. To gain power, you must 1) take certain risks, and 2) be lucky. To use your power effectively, you must not use it too strongly. Only on one occasion did I see a child hit others too hard. The next child who found the belt went after the tyrant - and for the rest of the game the offender never wandered more than ten feet from the base. Alliances didn't seem to be of much help. The overcautious don't have much fun. And, finally, when there are no more worlds to conquer, you set the sword in the stone and watch.

I have learned to see children's games as scripts for a kind of children's cultural theater. I see them as collective dreams in which certain themes are being toyed with - investigated and manipulated for the sake of sheer catharsis or some future reintegration into a world view. They are reconstructions of relationships - simulations - (myths) - which are guided by individual players, instituted by the groups in which they are played or abstracted by the traditions of generations of children.

I've explored the near mythic quality of games further in the Games Preserve Reports where I note, as one of many examples, the game of Monster:

This is played by very small children, almost as soon as they are old enough to waddle. Somebody is Monster usually (it's type-cast). That person chases everybody else. Everybody else runs and runs until the Monster catches them and eats, or tickles, them up. Then, everybody runs away again, and the Monster does his thing.

This game usually ends with the exhaustion of the Monster.

As a (myth), it's fairly obvious. It describes a relationship between a fear or an authority and its victims. It is an irreversible relationship. It is enforced equally, by the pursued as well as the pursuer.

So, here is my suggestion: make it a practice, from time to time, after you play a game, any game, really, sit down with your coplayers and tease out the learnings. I think you will be amazed at the clarity and intimacy of the truths awaiting you.