Game Over: Failure Rhetoric in Dark Souls
Pauline Ferraro
You Died… Now do it again
Many game scholars attribute the main theoretical impetus behind games to failure, as we progress and succeed, we also fail. Dark Souls takes this theory of failure and combines it with rhetoric and mechanics to create a beautiful web players must traverse, as they embark on their own personal journey of failure. The unavoidable failure built into Dark Souls' mechanics presents a unique opportunity to explore the rhetoric of failure and its effect on the player. Unlike other media which are passively consumed without interaction, video games are a tactile experience; and the game can change through manipulations made by the player. Dark Souls' punishing reward and failure system has been created for the player to confront failure and as such one must lose in the game to fully understand the game itself.
Understanding Art through Failure
Through our daily lives we are taught that success is inherently positive while failure is inherently negative. This being the case, it becomes something of a paradox when we seek out art that inspires tragedy or failure. Through the medium of video games we can create a more comprehensive understanding of the connection between art and emotions, in her book How Games Move Us: Emotion By Design, Katharine Isbister says “at their heart games differ from other media in one fundamental way; they offer players the chance to influence outcomes through their own efforts." This interaction makes video games different from other forms of art. Because of this, there isn’t a “common language” that the designers, players and society all speak making games a unique form of art to create emotional connection. While Jane McGonigal notes that when we succeed, we are then met with an equal loss because our task is over. However, when we fail, we still possess this task and continue to try again.
While some scholars view failure as an inherently negative concept; McGonigal views failure positively. Believing that when we fail in a videogame “it makes us happy in a very particular way: excited, interested and most of all optimistic” she writes. Through failure we develop skills that we can use in everyday life to strengthen our emotions. This connects us to the game, because as Jasper Jull notes, “games can represent actual tragedies, as well as us, the player, drawing emotional connections to the failures of the characters we play as." For instance, in SuperBetter. a game created by Jane McGonigal, you are given daily tasks to “create a better you” to “improve mood, reduces symptoms of anxiety and depression and increases belief in the ability to successfully achieve goals.” In this game we learn about how to overcome our failures and learn from them. Her philosophy is that “getting superbetter means getting stronger, so you can tackle any challenge. Each person views failure differently; some positive and others negative; but most all agree that there is something to be gained from studying and learning about failure. With failure comes the investment in learning how to tackle any obstacle. Therefore, through the idea of super difficult games we could draw conclusions that these games are better for improving ourselves than “easy” ones.
Failure Rhetoric
Tragedy is relevant across all forms of literature and the understanding of what failure brings to the table reinforces the ideals of studying it. The study of failure also includes the slight fascination we have with it to better understand the indications of our shortcomings. While McGonigal sees failure as an inherent positive, David Ball sees failure as an inherent neutral. Because of this fascination, we can then “understand the focus on failure as merely a bit for cultural capital, resentment emerging from bad faith, or an elaborate defense mechanism." Not every story has a happy ending and in that way we see the actual world reflected in the virtual. German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche wrote in The Birth of Tragedy that failure and art are linked. While art does reflect the human condition it also adds to suffering; Nietzsche notes that art “rather supplied a metaphysical supplement to the reality of nature and was set alongside the latter as a way of overcoming it." As studies continue, researchers learn to recognize these, in the words of Ball, “returns to figures of collapse, exhaustion, and futility in the text themselves."
Aaron Smuts builds on Nietzsche and Ball’s concept of failure, articulating a “threefold Paradox of Painful Art” that we as humans have developed a paradoxical relationship with the concept of failure and have recorded this over humanistic and sociological studies. The next part of this paradox is the generality that some people will have negative responses to certain art or media. Finally people will willingly seek out art with the prior knowledge that said art will invoke painful emotions in the user.
Through Jesper Juul, we can understand the theory of failure and how we can learn to apply it to our lives. As humans we experience a wide variety of emotions, some pleasant and others not. In our leisure we often seek out entertainment in the form of art, stories and games. It is uncommon, therefore, in our leisure to seek out forms of art that will spark negative and unpleasant emotions in us. Herein lies another paradox: The Paradox of Failure. This paradox states that we as humans strive to avoid failure. Paradoxically, a byproduct of playing video games is failure, which begs the question, why do we play games that will end in failure? This is relevant for all forms of art, but video games are special. While novels, short stories, movies and other forms of participatory art all have the ability to incite tragedy, it is more of a question of, as Juul puts it, the “personal limitation and self-doubt of others."
Video games, on the other hand, have a direct part to play in the limitations and self-doubt of the user. McGonical explains that to create this doubt, the designers must show the players that they have their own sense of control or power in that world. In the game world, failure captivates players who continue to try in hope of success. This separates the game world from our ‘real’ world because “it is so rare to feel sincere, unbanished hope in the face of such daunting challenges." There is a certain state for optional performance which is called flow, defined by psychologist Mihaly Csikzentmihalyi, it is where players perform at their best. Through this study of flow, designers can create an experience that can offer control in their actions and keeps the player in a state where they can complete all the challenges set for them. Without this challenge, boredom can ensue and the player will lose interest. Therefore, small amounts of failure are healthy for a game and the player to grow and learn more about how to succeed and fail.
As Juul states in The Art of Failure, the developers of a game, specifically single player games, failure must be given time to nurture and develop. The craft of creating failure is a tricky one; the goal must just be out of the player’s grasp but also realistically obtainable. This craft therefore creates video games as a safe place to experiment with failure as each instance of failure is an opposing argument between each other. On one hand failure is normal and therein playing a videogame and “failing” often can reflect our abilities, making it just as valid as any real-world failure. The other half of this argument is that because the failure occurring is in a game it has validity in the real world.
Real and Fictional Failure
To classify a failure as “real" would be taking into account that the player spent time and effort in the game but still failed to complete their goal or task. Juul states that this kind of failure is normal because it is grounded in the player’s own ability. To classify failure as “fictional” the one not obtaining completion is the character in the fictional world. This connects us to the game, because games can represent actual tragedies, as well as us, the player, drawing emotional connections to the failures of the characters we play as. Juul lays out three categorizations of failure:
Internal vs. External: attributing failure to the user or to the test.
Stable vs. Unstable: whether the user believes failure to be consistent or subject to change or improvement.
Global vs. Specific: whether the use attributes failure to general inability or inability to this specific task.
Not only does the gameplay of Dark Souls induce failure with its difficulty, but as Vella explains, the narrative world actively inspires the ideas of inadequacy to fester in the minds of the players because it is impossible for the user to understand everything they have encountered. As Dark Souls is unique as a text, it combines both real and fictional failure. This creates an aesthetic that influences the player’s view of the in-game world. In an interview with the creator of Dark Souls, Hidetaka Miyazaki, has said that “only those storyline elements that actually make it into the game are something that I need to force players to accept as a base for building up their own interpretation of the world."
This base interpretation of the world is often influenced by the real failure that player’s experience in the fictional world. This connects the player to the fictional failure they are experiencing because it is up to them to seek out their own answers.
The Mirror of Failure
Dark Souls universe is rich with NPCs who showcase the failure that permeates the game's world. This theory of failure is one of a mirror; this mirror defines how real and fictional failure are linked to create the rhetoric of failure within the game. This starts almost immediately, when the player meets the Crestfallen Warrior at Firelink Shrine—one of the first NPC interactions in Dark Souls— who says to the player:
Well, what do we have here? You must be a new arrival. Let me guess, Fate of the Undead, right? Well, you’re not the first. But there’s no salvation here. You’d have done better to rot in the Undead Asylum... But, too late now. –Crestfallen Warrior
This sets up the impending failure that already exists in this world through the immediate recognition of the 'Hollow' mechanic wherein the player character loses their 'humanity' and comes to be seen as an undead soulless person. The concept of 'humanity' in Dark Souls has physical form, a collectible item, as opposed to existing as an abstract concept. Setting up failure in this way is an example of Juul's “Stable vs. unstable” classification, defining a failure “to be consistent or subject to change or improvement.” As the players die we lose the humanity that we have burned —the burning of the humanity item undoing the Hollow state, returning the player character to a human form— and this act is a consistent mechanic throughout the game. The player character deaths in game increases our state of Hollow, furthering the above comments on our intrinsic failure based on our death in game.
Failure often hangs on NPCs from their introductions, which typically take place when characters need help. All examples of this could fall under the “global vs. specific” classification found in Juul’s work. Failure happens as a result of “general inability or inability to this specific task."
One NPC in particular, Knight Lautrec of Carim, is found locked within a church prior to the bells that wake the undead. We meet Knight Lautrec of Carim and he has this to say to us:
Oh, still human are you? Then I am in luck. Could you help me? As you can see I am stuck, without recourse. Please, I have duties to fulfil, and I will reward you handsomely. Well? I am certain you stand to benefit. –Knight Lautrec of Carim
The primary failure is the Knight failed to keep himself free. The secondary failure lies in the inability to resolve the situation on their own. They rely on the player to free them, if you chose not to assist, they then fail at whatever task they set out to do in the first place.
He states that he has a quest or obligation to continue, but because of his own inadequacy he pleads for the player character to free him. The player character is then given the choice to free him or not. If you do decide to free him he tells us I am free. Now I can get back to work. Only when we assist him can he continue with his quest. If we choose not to he fails. Lautrec being locked away is not the only example of a caged NPC that relies on us to free him; Griggs of Vinheim is much more pleading than that of Lautrec’s, but the failure and the request are still the same:
Somebody! Please, let me out of here! Somebody, anybody! Help me! Unlock the door! ...damn... I’m finished.... How did this ever happen... –Griggs of Vinheim
This example is important because it embodies two of the kinds of failure classification and is also essential to the internal narrative of Dark Souls. Another NPC quest line, Siegmeyer of Catarina, embodies both “stable vs. unstable and global vs specific.” the stable vs. unstable classification of failure is looking at how failure is either consistent or will change. For instance when you first meet Siegmeyer outside of Sen’s Fortress (before both Bells of Awakening are rung), he tells you:
I am Siegmeyer of Catarina . Quite honestly, I have run flat up against a wall or, a gate, I should say. The thing just won’t budge No matter how I wait. and, oh, have I waited!
In his introduction he tells you that he has failed to continue and will do nothing to resolve the issue. This is the first example of “stable vs. unstable.” If you ignore him and enter Sen’s Fortress and talk to him later he repeats this dialog but varied:
I am Siegmeyer of Catarina . Quite honestly, I have run flat up against a wall or, a ball, to be precise.
He continues to do nothing to advance his place in his personal quest, he relies on you the player to advance and clear the way so he can continue. His existence is dependent on your success. As we advance his story we go down two paths. Both will cause him to kill himself. If the player helps Siegmeyer succeed in his quest, he will choose to go hollow. Because we helped him, he no longer sees himself as a proud adventurer and each time we help him complete a task his self- determination goes down. He slowly starts to lose hope. He loved adventuring, but his own personal failures stop him from completing his mission and he will become fully hollow:
Well, wonderful. This knight of Catarina thanks you Take this, as a token of my gratitude. I feel like I’m always thanking you.... I curse my own inability.
If we chose not to help him, when he rushes in to fight the Chaos Eater, he dies. Thus failing in his quest. Either way you the player have a direct role to play in his personal tragedy and failure.
Continuing on to the final installment of the franchise, all of the major bosses exemplify failure in some way or fashion. In the opening cinematic we are told of these “Lords of Cinder:”
The fire fades and the lords go without thrones . When the link of fire is threatened, the bell tolls, Unearthing the Lords of Cinder from their graves: [...]Only in truth the lords will abandon their thrones and the Unkindled will rise Nameless accursed undead, Unfit even to be cinder. And so it is, that ash seeketh embers.
The premise of Dark Souls III is that because of these Lords who refuse to link the fire, you, the Unkindled are called forth to bring them back so they can link the fire. In this world, like that of Lordran, the main goal is to continue the Age of Fire. The boss characters are called Lords of Cinder because in a previous timeline or cycle they once linked the flame themselves.
Ludleth of Courland explains our purpose in this world as unkindled. The unkindled are a new classification for those cursed to be undead. The unkindled are considered lesser than those of the undead, comprised of the remains of a once undead warrior who failed to link the flame. Through their failure their bodies were burned to ash. This leads us to our second classification of “stable vs. unstable” failure. As our very existence in the game is one of failure even before we progress forth in the narrative. The first boss the player encounters in this failed world is Iudex Gundyr; who is the gatekeeper for that world. As stated on the item description for the coiled sword that we remove from him prior to his awakening and battle of judgement, this sword is only bequeathed to chosen ash, as judged by the Iudex, who awaits the arrival of ash as a scabbard. However, his existence is also a mirror of failure replicated in another world. As the Estus Ring found within the Firekeeper’s Tower informs us, in a second darkened world with a second Champion, Gundyr has lost its flame and has a bell that will not toll. This instance of Gundyr exists before the instance of the player character, Champion of Ash, called forth by the bell to then link the Fire.
This ring was entrusted to a certain Fire Keeper, but in the end she never met her champion, and the ensuing tragic farce became a favorite tale of the masses. Iudex Gundyr was this champion, an unkindled whom made the journey to Firelink to meet his Fire Keeper, but he failed in the end. His world then went dark and he just gives up and relies on the player to continue on and overcome his failure. This is an example of the stable vs. unstable failure, for he just waits and the failure is a constant. This world and existence is dark and thus exists in a failing state.
This world of Dark Souls III is hence failing because of the intrinsic failures of the Twin Princes of Lothric, who have decided to not link the fire. They chose their failure and thus represent global vs. specific.
Oh, dear, another dogged contender . Welcome, Unkindled One, purloiner of Cinders. Mind you, the mantle of Lord interests me none. The fire linking curse, the legacy of lords, let it all fade into nothing. You've done quite enough, now have your rest. –Twin Princes of Lothric
As their specific failure occurs it affects the world on a global scale dooming it into a state of ash, thus continuing the ever limbotic cycle of failure.
Game aesthetic is the mirror that connects rhetoric to gameplay. Through this defining factor of failure, Dark Souls mirrors this theory and in order to fully understand a game we must lose. This is abundantly clear because of the strong connection between rhetoric and gameplay. The act of losing greatly enhances the meaning behind the events of which we participate in the game.
Failure for the win
Dark Souls is an example of how combining game mechanics as well as rhetoric we can create a mirrored link between narrative failure and actual player failure. This mirror helps us better understand how video games can help us experience our world and the emotions we have. Through the research of noted game scholars we see the direct correlation between in game failure and narrative failure. Dark Souls involves the narrative of failure in connection to the mechanics of failure. Through this mirror we can better understand what failure means and how we can learn from it.
Pauline Ferraro is currently a graduate student at American University in Washington DC studying Games & Interactive Media. She received a BA in English and a minor in Communications from Old Dominion University. In her free time she plays video games, reads comic books and over explains Dark Souls lore to her friends.
