Welcome to the Playpen, our space for ferrety banter and whimsical snippets of things that aren't quite long enough for articles (although they might be) but that caught your eye anyway.

at 13:54 on 07-08-2015, Axiomatic
>Size Matters: Long books are serious books.

As a fantasy reader, I can confirm this.
at 19:58 on 05-08-2015, Jamie Johnston
Meanwhile – you folks have got to check this out – 'Shut down Nouvella! First-ever *reverse* kickstarter':

American publishing has always centered around the Great American Novel, and we believe it should maintain this purity of vision. However, the recent proliferation of the independent publishing scene combined with millennials’ puerile attachment to things that are smaller, lighter and sleekly designed has serious implications for the continued dominance of the Great American Novel.

Nowhere is this disturbing trend more obvious in our industry than with indie publisher Nouvella, which publishes pocket-sized works of fiction between 10,000-40,000 words.

With your help, we intend to shut Nouvella down.
at 19:50 on 05-08-2015, Jamie Johnston
Wow, that's... not even bad in an entertaining way, just in a bad way.
at 12:24 on 03-08-2015, Arthur B
The Dissolve has an excellent article on Sean Connery's weird trainwreck of a final film. Make sure to watch the videos for the full horror.
at 21:10 on 27-07-2015, Craverguy
Even though I'm an American (or maybe because I'm an American; we don't have many legitimately leftist politicians here), I am quite enthused at the prospect of Jeremy Corbyn leading Labour.
at 10:07 on 27-07-2015, Shim
Those both sound reasonably good, though I tend toward's Melanie's. Like any subgenre though, it's hard to pin down exactly. You know it when you see it. There's usually a lot of very unpleasant things happening for no particular reason, to demonstrate to the reader what a grimly-"realistic" setting this is, and how vile various characters are, and how unlike all those other frivolous fantasy books this author is.

I think 40K is the origin of the phrase because it's a good phrase, but is quite a long way from grimdark because it refused to take itself seriously, although I'm not sure that's always the case now. The sheer excessiveness of everything does help though. Only genetically-engineered brain-eating fascist supersoldier monks can save you from the insects that eat planets and the ghost robots that want to annihilate the universe, and maybe you'd be better off if they didn't.
at 02:51 on 27-07-2015, Melanie
I had been interpreting "grimdark" as meaning: "fairly humorless, dark and unpleasant, and proud of itself for being such". Exaggeratedly pessimistic, maybe with claims of being "serious"/"realistic"/"gritty".

...I thought it was just a Ferretbrainism for some reason, but apparently not. Huh.
at 01:24 on 27-07-2015, James D
Could you please clarify how you personally interpret the term "grimdark"?

Now I haven't seen Spartacus, but this question got me thinking about grimdark in general - we can all mention examples of grimdark authors - George RR Martin, Joe Abercrombie, etc. - but what specifically is it that makes them grimdark? Is there a concise definition of grimdark that doesn't use examples?

The best, shortest description I could come up with was "exploitation fiction without the wink." Like exploitation fiction, the extreme sex and violence is there to titillate the reader (unlike the sex and violence in All Quiet on the Western Front or 12 Years a Slave), but unlike exploitation fiction it's done seriously, without that knowing wink that's often present.

A lot of people cite Warhammer 40K as an example of grimdark, and "grim darkness" is of course in its tagline, but I think it's too self-aware and over-the-top to really qualify, at least in my book. That's where I see the pejorative sense of "grimdark" coming in - if a book is pushing for dark and disturbing levels of sex and violence but instead goes over the top and unintentionally comes across as silly and ridiculous as Warhammer 40K, then you could say it's grimdark.
at 02:21 on 24-07-2015, Chris A
I really enjoyed Sense8. It isn't without some major flaws, but the features that seem to garner the most criticism don't really strike me as problems. Its leisurely start and disregard for some of the rules of episodic storytelling are choices made to take advantage of the Netflix medium, and I think they mostly work or are at least interesting. And the criticism that the show is 'incoherent' is just fundamentally off-base.

On the subject of Spartacus, I do think the world and events it depicts are remote in a way that makes a difference in our ... how shall I phrase it: our moral obligation to approach its subject matter sensitively? I think a series that depicted Nat Turner's rebellion or the Mâle Revolt along similar stylistic lines to Spartacus would be seen as exploitative. As would a film adaptation of Im Westen nichts Neues that aestheticized violence in the way that, say, The 300 did. Yes, some of the characters in Spartacus bear the names of historical figures, and there really was a Third Servile War, but their reality is unrecoverable and has no meaningful point of contact with the present. I would compare it to Game of Thrones more readily than to 12 Years a Slave.
at 21:02 on 23-07-2015, Shim
On a note about as unrelated as it is possible to be, it seems like Tusks is a thing Ferretbrain would talk about.
at 22:36 on 21-07-2015, Robinson L
My apologies, Cheriola. I meant no mockery of Spartacus or the historical events it portrays. I do not use the term "grimdark" as an exclusively derisive term - I view it as a mode of storytelling, not intrinsically better or worse than any other (I don't view misogyny as inherent to the grimdark mode, just sadly prevalent, as it is in so many other forms of speculative fiction). That said, I probably should not have been so flippant to lump an historical drama rooted in real horrific events with the fiction writings of George R. R. Martin, Matthew Stover, Joe Abercrombie, and the like. Especially since the discourse on "grimdarkness" on this site is largely critical.

Everything you say about the show sounds excellent, and mirrors what I've heard/read from others over the years. And I can easily believe that the tone is appropriately serious and depressing given the subject matter - but I'm afraid that's a level of intensity I can't really handle in television/film. Cartoonish hyper-violence I can handle, but high mortality rates among characters I've grown to deeply care about I really can't. Heck, sometimes just one character is enough to spoil my enjoyment of a film/show. Nothing against the series in question, it's just my own personal tolerance levels. Again, sorry for the implied ridicule.

And thanks also for the Sense8 recommendation. I start a new TV show about once every six months or so, but I've kept your previous recommendations in mind, and I may well find my way to them someday. That clip you linked won serious points with me for two reasons: first, by revolving so much around "What's Up," by 4 Non Blondes, which is one of those songs that's highly important to my circle of friends (a bunch of us sang it karaoke at a wedding not long ago); and second, hi Martha Jones from Doctor Who. It does look and sound like a pretty cool show ...
at 21:40 on 21-07-2015, Cheriola
By the way, if you want a show that has its heart in the same earnestly well-meaning place as "Spartacus" (i.e. lots of POC characters and feminist themes; the heroes are genuinely good people who support each other; and the romance is both very sexual and utterly wholesome, as well as very LGTB-inclusive) but with more obvious humor and less extreme violence and no rape or predestined character deaths, then I recommend the new Netflix show "Sense8". Be warned though that while the character subplots get resolved, the scifi/paranormal arc plot doesn't really get all that far in the first season, and Netflix hasn't yet said if they'll finance a continuation. Mainly because the mainstream critics didn't understand the show and panned it, and it's only slowly getting steam via word-of-mouth.

It also gave me the curious experience of recognising most of the settings of the parts filmed in Berlin. Which feels really odd when I'm watching an American-style action-drama.

Here's a short excerpt that reflects the feel of the show quite well:

at 17:45 on 21-07-2015, Cheriola
Moving this to the playpen because it's got nothing to do with "The Wizard of Oz":

Could you please clarify how you personally interpret the term "grimdark"? 'Cause I'm having a hard time not to side-eye you right now for mocking a drama about historical institutionalised slavery and large-scale murder, and the tragic death of tens of thousands of people in a war that really happened as "needlessly serious and depressing". I mean, of course they took some narrative liberties with history and we can't know the actual personalities of the people involved, but almost all of the male characters on "Spartacus" stand in for and share the names of people who really existed (the Romans weren't very interested in documenting the fate of women). Does their suffering not deserve a serious and empathetically heartbreaking depiction just because they've been dead 2000 years? This isn't "Game of Thrones" or "Warhammer 40.000" where the darkness of the setting is an arbitrary style choice by the author. Would you call "12 Years a Slave" or "Nothing New on the Western Front" grimdark as well?

That said, what the show undoubtedly is, is hyper-violent. But the violence is depicted just over-the-top and unrealistic enough (i.e. dull Roman swords that work as well as katanas for cutting limbs off; high-pressure spurts of GGI blood that is just a shade too purple to look real; etc.) so that it doesn't faze me - and I can't bear to watch splatter horror movies like "Scream" or "Saw". I don't particularly enjoy the testosterone-overdosed arena fights in the first season, but I can just roll my eyes and wait a few minutes for the show to get back to the interpersonal drama. I do appreciate the strange subversiveness with which the show used said larger-than-life violence and all the sex to draw in the stereotypical straight male aged 18-49 audience (and then served up a drama plot that's surprisingly feminist, gay-inclusive, tenderly romantic, character-development-driven, and almost Shakespearean in terms of challenging lyrical speech patterns and intrigue-based subplots), as well as making the audience kind of complicit in the exploitation of the slaves, which the gladiator slave characters really come to resent only when their brainwashing wears off at the end of the first season. The show doesn't go so far as to openly shame its audience for liking the violence, of course, but it does lure you in for a while to act just like the frothing in-show audience in the arena and cheer the gladiators on in their contest to become 'champion' - to forget what the bloodsport really means for those forced to be involved, and that the title really is meaningless. Which I found an interesting tactic to make the viewer understand how the system persisted in the first place, given that not all Romans can be psychopaths. (And they aren't, on the show. Except for a few minor characters and an upper-class couple who actually are borderline psychopathic, the villains are presented in a way that makes you want to root for them at least in their struggle to with the social class system and with the patriarchy.)

And in the later seasons, the show sometimes uses the violence for good, such as in this amazing scene that subverts the usual plot of harm done to female characters primarily to give the male characters motivation for revenge, instead providing catharsis to female rape survivors:

(A little note: The actor who plays the lover of the woman fighting in this scene, the one who looks like a bit of a jarhead, turned out to be a real revelation. His character starts out as the gladiator equivalent of a jerk jock, so the depth the actor lends him through eye-acting comes as a real surprise. Case in point: that look on his face when the woman's opponent, who had a long-standing personal vendetta with him, taunts him with how he 'ruined her' and that she'll never forget it - that look means a lot more when you remember that the lover had been sexually abused for years as well. Not violently, and not by a man, but still. The show never has the male characters talk about the sexual abuse they suffered (which is almost all the major straight male slave characters, in one way or another), because macho culture, but you can see how it informs their treatment of female rape survivors, and their romantic relationships, which are refreshingly free from any pushy or abusive behaviour or other creepiness that normally keeps me from rooting for romantic couples in shows.)

And while history dictates that the ending be a tragedy since the slave revolt failed and most of the historical characters are only known from the death reports, the show creators did manage to make the final episode one of the most emotionally satisfying series finales I have ever seen, partly because you really come to care about those characters (I rarely cry at movies, but here I spent the last 15 minutes sobbing), partly for meta reasons (
a lovely subversion of the old Bury Your Gays trope as a Take That! to all the haters who'd told the show creator to "Cut out the gay shit."
- yes, this is a show where telling you who survives is considered a major spoiler), and partly because the slave characters do get a sort of moral victory in the end, and because the main character himself dies covered in blood but at peace in the tender embrace of loving friends. Which nicely encapsulated the general feel of the show - all that outside violence and everpresent threat in the setting just means that there's little need for in-group nastiness to make things interesting to watch. Contrast with the Romans, who are constantly stabbing each other in the back, because that's the kind of society you get if you base the whole thing on violent exploitation of a massive underclass and need to raise the privileged to be capable of cruelty in order to maintain the system.
at 14:05 on 16-07-2015, Orion
So, the much-vaunted MRA-directed "documentary" "expose" of Anita Sarkeesian's alleged perfidy is finally out, kind of. The filmmakers had a falling out, but one of them has released a 40-minute mockup containing a few actual interviews, some clips from her videos and from the mainstream media, plus minutes on end of MRAs rambling over a blank screen. The title sequence is a still picture labeled "animated title sequence."

It's hilariously bad and everything, but mostly it makes me sad that I've never seen or participated in an actual critical review of her actual work.
at 12:59 on 12-07-2015, Arthur B
Meerkat works for me...
at 06:20 on 12-07-2015, Orion
What's the opposite of a reading canary? A reading meerkat? I'm thinking of a creature that slumbers through dull early seasons and set-up novels, then jumps to attention when a story gets good.
at 12:22 on 10-07-2015, Arthur B
The Warlord of the Air: Oswald Bastable returns from a humiliating military defeat in the Himalayas. The combination of the dishonour of losing his men and being subjected to the baroque superstitions of the locals drives him entirely insane, and his family lock him up in the attic to conceal their shame from polite society.

His nephew, young Jeremiah Cornelius, is the only member of the family who will talk to Bastable, slipping away from his governess in order to listen to Uncle Oswald's wild tales. Morally corrupted by Bastable's delusional ravings about time travel and airships and native chappies breaking away from the Empire and taking control of their own destiny, Cornelius becomes a decadent anarchist (first drafts also have him falling in with Uranian sorts, but the editors of All the Year Round put their foot down and refused to allow that subplot), and is eventually shot dead in the midst of a failed assassination attempt on a member of the Royal Family.

Due to Cornelius mumbling something about Bastable as he lay dying, a warrant is put out for Bastable's arrest as a co-conspirator. Still quite insane, Bastable doesn't even comprehend that he is headed for the gallows, making remarks about a bombing run on a British Navy base at Hiroshima just before he is hanged. The narrator closes the story with a long meditation about the dangers of imagination, and the moral that we must all live in the same world which we must learn to accept rather than seeking to change.
at 11:52 on 10-07-2015, Shim
Can we take it the other way, and add a Victorian twist to steampunk? You know, get rid of those unsightly steam-powered devices, add some hypocritical moralising and a bit of colonialism?

Girl Genius: the descendant of a long line of astonishingly gifted engineers and scientists, raised in secret by two of her family's servants, Agatha Heterodyne goes to work in a respectable household for a few years before marrying a fishmonger, since it never occurs to anyone that she could become an engineer. Denied the opportunity to build terrifying scientific marvels, and unable to understand her strange yearnings, she writes searing adventure novels under a pen name, earning enough to keep her out of poverty in her widowhood. After her own death, her children discover a treasure-trove of blueprints in the mysterious chest under her bed; ignorant of their importance, they use them as kindling, while the narrator lectures us on the importance of education.
at 14:11 on 09-07-2015, Axiomatic
I'm not sure you can really call it a "twist" when you add steampunk to something originally set in 1865.
at 06:16 on 09-07-2015, Michal
While "Alice in Wonderland with a steampunk twist" is not exactly the most inspiring tagline, I believe this Kickstarter may be of interest to certain ferrets.
at 06:30 on 07-07-2015, Melanie
Though, I have to say, being able to not have my character(s) actually be in any danger is practically always something I embrace, regardless of whether it's because:
 *there's nothing that actually kills/does damage,
 *I can micromanage equipment or strategy such that I either won't get hit or can negate all damage,
 *I patiently spent a lot of time leveling and now I'm big and bad enough that nothing poses a credible threat, or
 *cheat codes.
at 05:52 on 07-07-2015, Melanie
The "unviolent games aren't games" thing they mention is definitely the stupidest instance of that endless argument about what qualifies as a game that I can recall seeing, ever.

I'm not sure they really supported their thesis there, though. I mean:

There is a growing multitude of games that don’t utilize violence as a central mechanic. [...] Telltale Games’ entire catalogue since the release of season one of The Walking Dead has had conversation and social maneuvering as the central game mechanic. Animal Crossing, The Sims, and Minecraft are all worldwide sensations

...doesn't quite mesh with "limiting innovation". It seems like there's a specific subset of games they're really talking about: rpgs.

I wish they'd gone into their argument about it being central to game engines a bit more, maybe with some examples or something. I mean, "animate a believable hug" is at least something that's possible--hugging, specifically, is something Sims can do. So, somebody "figured it out". Is there something about other game engines that makes that especially difficult to animate? (That is a sincere question; I know very little about animation. Though, if there are a variety of body types and/or a variety of shapes of visible wearable equipment, I can see how you'd have to deal with either 1)clipping errors/failure to match up properly (i.e. making a tall person hug a short one might lead to them hugging their head), or 2)the woes of combinatorial expansion as you make separate animations for every separate combination that might come up. Unless you can somehow use collision detection?)

It seems like their actual argument is more specific than the one in the title: that violence limits games that have it as a core mechanic. Which is, itself, an interesting argument.
at 23:21 on 06-07-2015, Arthur B
My only real quibble with the article is that it only makes passing reference to point-and-click adventure games - not only a genre which was in its time a major commercial force, but one which all but universally eschewed violence as a resolution mechanism (and even games which included a few puzzles with violent outcomes included a fair share of less violent ones). Heck, you're looking at a genre where the most famous example of violence is the swordfighting in Monkey Island - which was resolved through witty insults, not actual wounding and killing. This is the genre pioneered by Roberta Williams, who as boss of Sierra was arguably one of the first women to become really prominent figures in the games industry as simultaneously a creative talent and a businesswoman.

The big change over the years has been that point and click adventures used to boast some of the most impressive budgets in gaming, whereas now they are far, far away from the AAA-tier. It would be interesting to track over time how much more homogenised the top-budget tier of videogames has become over the years - and how much more homogenised the audience for and producers of such games have become with it.
at 22:02 on 06-07-2015, Jamie Johnston
What do we think about 'Fight Club: how masculine fragility is limiting innovation in games'? The thesis seems plausible but I'd sort of hoped it would be developed in more detail; also I have the difficulty of not having played enough games (especially not enough fighty games) to test the proposition against experience. Anyway thought it might be of interest. (Via portmanteaurian.)