11 July 2023

Caillois—MPG (ii)


Roger Caillois
trans. Meyer Barash
Man, Play and Games (1961)


[27]

2. From Turbulence to Rules

Rules are inseparable from play as soon as the latter becomes institutionalized. From this moment on they become part of its nature. They transform it into an instrument of fecund and decisive culture. But a basic freedom is central to play in order to stimulate distraction and fantasy. This liberty is its indispensable motive power and is basic to the most complex and carefully organized forms of play. Such a primary power of improvisation and joy, which I call paidia, is allied to the taste for gratuitous difficulty that I propose to call ludus, in order to encompass the various games to which, without exaggeration, a civilizing quality can be attributed. In fact, they reflect the moral and intellectual values of a culture, as well as contribute to their refinement and development.

Does he not notice that the double-thesis of reflection and contribution pulls the pin on the grenade that basic freedom is standing on?

The double-thesis forms the basis for the instrumentalization of culture, at which point play can no longer be

Free,
Separate,
Uncertain
or
Unproductive

(pp. 9-10).


I have chosen the term paidia because its root is the word for child,...

... I shall define it, for my purposes, as a word covering the

[28]

spontaneous manifestations of the play instinct: a cat entangled in a ball of wool, a dog sniffing, and an infant laughing at his rattle represent the first identifiable examples of this type of activity. It intervenes in every happy exuberance which effects an immediate and disordered agitation, an impulsive and easy recreation, but readily carried to excess, whose impromptu and unruly character remains its essential if not unique reason for being. ...

This elementary need for disturbance and tumult first appears as an impulse to touch, grasp, taste, smell, and then drop any accessible object. It readily can become a taste for destruction and breaking things. ... For the child it is a question of expressing himself, of feeling he is the cause, of forcing others to pay attention to him.

How's that for expression?

feeling he is the cause

Isn't much expression
really about that
and not at all about
that-which-is-purportedly-expressed?

In this manner, K. Groos recalls the case of a monkey which took pleasure in pulling the tail of a dog that lived with it, each time that the dog seemed to be going to sleep. ...

The child does not stop at that. He loves to play with his own pain, for example by probing a toothache with his tongue. He also likes to be frightened. He thus looks for a physical illness, limited and controlled, of which he is the cause, or sometimes he seeks an anxiety that he, being the cause, can stop at will. At various points, the fundamental aspects of play are already recognizable, i.e. voluntary, agreed upon, isolated, and regulated activity.

Soon there is born the desire to invent rules, and to abide by them whatever the cost.

I know not whether the suggestion of, in this case, phylogeny recapitulating ontogeny, has any merit, but this rule-making and rule-following impulse seems important. Elsewhere people (especially children) absolutely loathe following rules; that is, other people's rules.

Conversely, when we made the rules ourselves, following them becomes self-enhancing. It follows that we probably made them self-interestedly in the first place, and this this self-interestedness is reflected not merely in our commitment to them but in the very structure of the rules themselves, at least to some degree.

I court tedium in pursuing this point only to say: abiding by rules we did not make ourselves, whatever the cost , this is not easily attained; and so where it is in evidence we might do well for look for other self-enhancing features of the engagement. We might do well to seek the explanation in base animal motives rather than in noble intellectualized ones, even/especially when the behavior in question is itself garnering our attention precisely for being (apparently) noble and intellectualized. Which is merely to reiterate a prior point. But it is a point that is missed too often, I think.

...

[29]

...

In general, the first manifestations of paidia have no name and could not have any, precisely because they are not part of any order, distinctive symbolism, or clearly differentiated life that would permit a vocabulary to consecrate their autonomy with a specific term. But as soon as conventions, techniques, and utensils emerge, the first games as such arise with them:... At this point the contradictory roads of agôn, alea, mimicry, and ilinx begin to bifurcate. At the same time, the pleasure experienced in solving a problem arbitrarily designed for this purpose also intervenes, so that reaching a solution has no other goal than personal satisfaction for its own sake.

This condition, which is ludus proper, is also reflected in different kinds of games, except for those which wholly depend upon the cast of a die. It is complementary to and a refinement of paidia, which it disciplines and enriches. It provides an occasion for training and normally leads to the acquisition of a special skill, a particular mastery of the operation of one or another contraption or the discovery of a satisfactory solution to problems of a more conventional type.

The difference from agôn is that in ludus the tension and skill of the player are not related to any explicit feeling of emulation or rivalry: the conflict is with the obstacle, not with one or several competitors. ...

[30]

...

Games such as solitaire or the ring puzzle, although part of the same species, already belong to another group of games, since they constantly appeal to a spirit of calculation and contrivance. ...

It is common knowledge that what to begin with seems to be a situation susceptible to indefinite repetition turns out to be capable of producing ever new combinations. Thus the player is stimulated to emulate himself, permitting him to take pride in his accomplishment, as against those who share his taste. There is a manifest relationship between ludus and agôn. In addition, it can happen that the same game may possess both, e.g. chess or bridge.

The combination of ludus and alea is no less frequent : it is especially recognizable in games of patience, in which ingenious maneuvers have little influence upon the result,...

Ludus is also readily compatible with mimicry. In the simplest cases, it lends aspects of illusion to construction games such as the animals made out of millet stalks by Dogon children,... However, it is the theater which provides the basic

[31]

connection between the two, by disciplining mimicry until it becomes an art rich in a thousand diverse routines, refined techniques, and subtly complex resources. By means of this fortunate development, the cultural fecundity of play is amply demonstrated.

But by the time of diverse routines, refined techniques, and subtly complex resources , who is really still playing? Certainly not "the players themselves," upon whom "the effect" of play is "lost" in the complexities. And if it is the audience who is actually playing, then they are not playing within the realm of routines and techniques.


In contrast, just as there could be no relationship between paidia, which is tumultuous and exuberant, and alea, which is passive anticipation of and mute immobility pending the outcome of the game, there also can be no connection between ludus, which is calculation and contrivance, and ilinx, which is a pure state of transport. ...


Ludus, in itself, seems incomplete, a kind of makeshift device intended to allay boredom. One becomes resigned to it while awaiting something preferable, such as the arrival of partners that makes possible the substitution of a contest for this solitary pleasure. ...

There is also an aspect of ludus that, in my opinion, is explained by the presence of agôn within it: that is, that it is strongly affected by fashion . The yo-yo, cup-and-ball, diabolo,

[32]

and ring puzzle appear and disappear as if by magic and soon are replaced by other games. In parallel fashion, the vogues for amusements of a more intellectual nature are no less limited in time;... It is probable that crossword puzzles and detective stories will run the same course. Such a phenomenon would be enigmatic if ludus were an individual amusement, as seems superficially to be the case. ...

Industrial civilization has given birth to a special form of ludus, the hobby, a secondary and gratuitous activity, undertaken and pursued for pleasure, e.g. collecting, unique accomplishments, the pleasure in billiards or inventing gadgets, in a word any occupation that is primarily a compensation for the injury to personality caused by bondage to work of an automatic and picayune character. It has been observed that the hobby of the worker-turned-artisan readily takes the form of constructing complete scale models of the machines in the fabrication of which he is fated to cooperate by always repeating the same movement, an operation demanding no skill or intelligence on his part. He not only avenges himself upon reality, but in a positive and creative way. The hobby is a response to one of the highest functions of the play instinct. It is not surprising that a technical civilization contributes to its development, even to providing compensations for its more brutal aspects. Hobbies reflect the rare qualities that make their development possible.

As always, the thesis of compensation seems incomplete at best. It seems a good candidate for a McLuhanish outflanking.

Then again, here I am constructing a complete scale model of Man, Play and Games in my nonwork hours.

In a general way, ludus relates to the primitive desire to find

[33]

diversion and amusement in arbitrary, perpetually recurrent obstacles. Thousands of occasions and devices are invented to satisfy simultaneously the desire for relaxation and the need, of which man cannot be rid, to utilize purposefully the knowledge, experience, and intelligence at his disposal, while disregarding self-control and his capacity for resistance to suffering, fatigue, panic, or intoxication.

The funny thing is, there were perpetually recurrent obstacles long before there was industrial civilization . It is leisure time, a byproduct of industrialization rather than an essential ingredient in it (perhaps a seed of its own destruction, actually), that has heightened the importance of play and games. Some people had leisure time before industrialization, and some people didn't have any at the height of it. I would think mass gaming promises to differ a bit from its predecessors, especially in its social aspects.


...







[36]

Table I. Classification of Games











[37]

CHAPTER III

The Social Function of Games




Play is not merely an individual pastime. It may not even be that as frequently as is supposed. To be sure, there are a number of games, notably games of skill, in which an entirely personal ability is displayed and which should not occasion surprise when played alone. However, games of skill may quickly become games of competitive skill. ...

[38]

...

...

...the game of cup-and-ball. An Eskimo is disguised as a very schematic representation of an animal, bear, or fish. He is stabbed many times. The player must use his weapon in a predetermined order, holding the knife properly. Then he begins the series again, his knife held inside his index finger, then emerging from behind his elbow, next pressed between his teeth, while the thrust of the weapon describes even more complicated figures. If he misses, the awkward player must pass the weapon to a rival. The latter goes through the same motions, trying to catch up or take the lead. While stabbing and withdrawing, the player simulates an adventure or analyzes an action. He tells the story of a journey, a hunt, or a combat, enumerating various phases of the dismemberment of his prey, an operation that is a female monopoly. ...

[39]

...

At this stage, the game of skill is obviously a cultural phenomenon, an aid to communion and collective recreation in the cold and long darkness of the Arctic night. This extreme case is no exception. However, it has the advantage of suggesting at what point games that are among the most personal in nature or intent lend themselves, in certain circumstances, to developments and refinements that bring them close to institutionalization. It would seem that play lacks something when it is reduced to a mere solitary exercise.

Games generally attain their goal only when they stimulate an echo of complicity. Even when the player could in principle conveniently play alone, games quickly become a pretext for a

[40]

contest or an exhibition,... Most of them indeed seem to reflect stimulus and response , thrust and parry, provocation and contagion, and effervescence or shared tension. They need an attentive and sympathetic audience.   It is unlikely that any category of play would be an exception to this law. Even games of chance seem to be more of an attraction in a group, if not in a crowd. ...

It is also painful to find oneself alone at a spectacle, even at the movies, despite the absence of living actors who would sufter from lack of an audience. It is also clear that one is disguised or masked for the sake of others. Finally, games of vertigo are in the same category—swinging, horseback riding, and tobogganing demand an effervescence and collective passion to sustain and encourage the intoxication that they produce.

Therefore, the different categories of play—agôn (by definition), alea, mimicry, and ilinx presuppose not solitude but company.

Hardly a contradiction of Lasch's riff on the "unobserved" quality of "superior performance." Rather it is a confirmation: the average performance has the quality of being observed, whether or not it is attempted only to be observed; but the superior performer seems to be playing alone, even if they are unlikely to think so even to themselves.

Moreover, a necessarily restricted circle is most often required.

And note just how profoundly this thesis of restriction mediates the thesis of presupposed company .

Each plays in his turn, as he desires and as required by the rules, so that the number of players could not be multiplied indefinitely without reducing the frequency of individual play. A game permits only a limited number of participants. ...

Yet the mass spectatorship permitted by present technology is functionally limitless. This makes the restricted circle especially indispensible for anyone who wants to really play rather than just ("merely") play. But the technology was made this way for a reason, and that reason has more powerful backers than your little game ever will.


Under certain conditions, even the games intended by their very nature to be played by a limited number of players exceed the limit. They reflect forms which, while doubtless remaining in the domain of play, evolve a bureaucracy, a complex ap-

[41]

paratus, and a specialized, hierarchical personality. In a word, they sustain permanent and refined structures, institutions of an official, private, marginal, and sometimes clandestine character, whose status seems nonetheless remarkably assured and durable.

Except of course to everyone who is not part of it. But no doubt they have their own. The possibility for such institutions to coexist in a way that, say, religions or political philosophies cannot, this must be counted among the happier aspects of the condition chronicled, e.g., by MacCannell. But, per Becker and followers, few of us seem content to leave well enough alone in this particular area.

...


No comments: