What "The Monster at the end of this Book" Teaches Us About Video Games

     Did you read this book when you were young? It was my favorite, mostly because Grover is hilarious. In this book, Grover reads the title page and gets nervous, because he is scared of the monster at the end of the book. He doesn't want to get to the end of the book and see the monster, so he does everything in his power to stop you from turning pages. He begs and pleads, ties corners of pages together, and freaks out everytime you turn the page. I, the young reader, have god-like powers in this scenario and continue on, until we find that Grover himself was the monster and drugs are what we should really be afraid of.

     I've been reconsidering this book, because I recently found the sequel, Another Monster at the end of this Book, which adds Elmo to the mix. When I say "found," I mean it literally: it was sitting on a projector at work and I took it, along with a couple other children's books.

     Here's what I've reconsidered: What if there was a real monster at the end? I mean, what if we got to the end and Grover was right all along and ends up stuck in a page with a scary creature? I, the almighty page turner, would be a huge jerk to do that to the poor guy. If I knew that there was actually a monster at the end of the book, shouldn't I stop reading pretty early on to keep my lovable, furry old friend Grover safe?

     These sorts of dilemmas come up all the time in video games. I think it's a trope of Japanese storytelling. You'll be progressing through hours of game time, and if it's a good game you become pretty attached to the world and characters filling the game. Video games progress linearly, so for the most part you have to keep moving forward, and at some point you take an action that causes unbelievable devastation. The whole world lies in ruin, forests become wastelands, monsters roam the city, and it's kind of your fault. It's up to you (and maybe your misfit gang of rebels) to make right these awful wrongs. No one in the world ever blames you, because the bad guys were going to do bad things anyways, but dang it!! I was working so hard to get the three spiritual stones so I could protect princess Zelda, and Ganondorf wanted me to do it all along to realize his true power?! I feel so used!

     I have come to the point in a couple of games (Final Fantasy 3 and Zelda: Ocarina of Time come to mind, both truly fantastic games that you should try if you haven't) where I know that progressing in the story means things get real bad before they get good again, and they are bad for a long time. If I enjoy the world before it gets bad (which I do, it's happy and fun and the music is uplifting), why would I progress? If I am truly taken by the story, the best thing I could do for those little people is leave my game on and my character standing in a field, playing some music. This is a tough concept to grapple with when you are 12 years old.

     This method of having the hero unwittingly bring about disaster must be a flawed story-telling method, at least when the reader is an active participant. As I said earlier, in my experience it's a very Japanese approach (based on the video games I've played and cartoons I've watched, and yes I am an adult). It's different from the heroic cycle of western lore. In that heroic cycle, evil is coming towards the protagonist and he/she refuses to take action early, for whatever reason, and this leads to disaster. The refusal to take action is the problem, and the hero has to fix it. Conflict is pushed upon the hero. This is vastly different than the hero unwittingly unlocking the magical powers that end the world. As a powerless observer, watching someone screw up and try to make amends is very entertaining, but as an interactive controller of the story, this method of progression is unsettling and doesn't make me want to continue.

The Fourth Wall

     That's where video games are trying to be different. Video games work hard at being an interactive story, much like Grover and his book. Grover breaks the fourth wall and talks to the audience as easily as I break his brick wall between pages. Video games talk to the main character, but tell me I am that character, which is the same thing as talking directly to the audience. They try to make the player/reader feel like he's involved and has a say in what happens. Instead of watching a movie where the hero saves the world, they let you push a few buttons (or turn a few pages) to help along that protagonist, but in truth you have little control over how the story goes (kind of like life, which is essentially a bigger world with more systems and variables at play, but the ending is going to be the same no matter what choices you make -- you will die). Games work harder and harder to make their worlds a self-sustaining story, but whatever the programmers include in their game is what dictates how the story goes. There really is no freedom (at best there are multiple endings to work towards) in a video game, much like a book or a movie (In truth, video games are fundamentally the same as those choose-your-own-adventure books that you think will be so fun at first and then you realize you'd rather just read a good story). 

Grover and I both break it (we are very strong)

     Part of the problem is just bad story telling. Video games have wonderful visuals and truly beautiful music, but the dialogue and narration are exceedingly poor (Game makers are working on that and getting better, this is after all a young medium.) When a video game does a good job of immersing me in the story, making me feel like I am the one who is going to save princess Zelda, the video game needs to recognize that I don't want to hurt any innocent bystanders, just like how I wouldn't want to make Grover run into the swamp thing either. If it wants me to truly invest in the world and become immersed in its characters and interactions, it either needs to a) not have me be the one to end the world, or b) have that end of the world come about in a way that is very consistent with the established characters and themes.

     I've thought of ways this is similar to real life. How walking down a path will take you to the end of that path. If you don't like where you're heading, turn around (if you don't want to end the world, stop playing). Predestination in life is another obvious discussion that could arise from reading Grover's book. I am sure that discussion happens all the time when little Johnny and his mom realize they actually had no control over Grover's fate, the almighty author did. I think there are lots of little pieces that have application, but nothing worth expanding upon. I suppose the nice thing about these stories is that they end and begin in very good places, you just have to get through the bad stuff in-between to finish. This is a good life lesson. Things will work out and drugs are the real monster.