annoyedSoho Press, hardcover (US edition)
Macmillan, hardcover (UK edition)
288 pages/240 pages, memoir/comedy/let's slag on D&D for several hundred pages 'cause it's fun
US edition coming November 1st, UK edition available now
***
I said recently that I try to only write reviews of books I like, because it gives me a sort of guideline to work from: if I don't like a book enough to feel inspired to review it, I don't. Given the number of books I read in a given week, this is really for the best, for everyone. Well, I've discovered an exception to this ruling: when a book bothers me enough, I may feel the need to review it anyway.
I came by an ARC of The Elfish Gene in the natural way: my mother found it at a thrift store and brought it home for me, as the description on the back made it sound like it about 'your kind of people, honey, you know, the weird ones.' (This is the same woman who once instructed me, when I said I was going to play D&D at Mike's house, 'not to let his dragon play in your dungeon.' Because I needed D&D imagery permanently tied to my teenage sexuality, thanks so much, Mom.) It looked interesting, and I'll read just about anything once, so I gave it a go.
The Elfish Gene is funny. It's well-written. It's solid. It makes linear sense. It is, in a lot of ways, a fascinating look at male friendships and the thought processes of the teenage boy. It's a fascinating memoir of a time and place that I was never part of. And it's the most depressing, upsetting book I've read in quite some time, because the author proceeds to systematically blame everything that's wrong with his life on the fact that he played D&D. He actually compares it to heroin. Quite a lot. All gamers are junkies, just cruising for another fix.
The real problem here is that I can't entirely say that he's wrong. When I was a teenager, I went from game to game very much the way an alcoholic might go from bar to bar. Finals week in high school was a fabulous excuse to get out of class at noon and game until eleven o'clock at night, followed by frantic early-morning cram sessions as we struggled not to flunk out of school...but I think obsession is a natural part of that stage of life. We spent as much time gaming as the cheerleaders spent bouncing up and down. When the drama department staged plays, I stopped gaming for weeks or months at a time in order to build sets, rehearse, and have nervous breakdowns. All of us went from obsession to obsession, constantly, and while the individual obsessions might be weird, the process wasn't.
I learned a lot from gaming. Disturbingly, much of it was related to math. I met my first boyfriends through gaming. Several of the most important relationships in my life -- Matt, Michelle, Chris, Rey -- either started due to a game or were greatly enhanced and strengthened by the process of gaming together. It probably makes a difference that I did a lot of my gaming with adults, rather than snarly teenage boys, but y'know what? I did my share of snarly teenage boy gaming, too.
This book made me deeply uncomfortable. Not because I didn't believe the author had the gaming experiences he claims to have had -- I'm certain that he did -- but because of the conclusions he uses those experiences to draw. It's a much funnier, much more well-disguised version of the 'D&D will ruin your life' rant that I used to hear from my stepfather, and I can't say it was pleasant to realize that, especially since it was so charmingly and humorously written.
Anybody who wants this book, I will cheerfully mail it to you for the cost of postage plus a donation of your choice to my Australia fund. (Seriously. If you want to give me a quarter, I'll take it.) Perhaps your mileage will differ.
August 5 2008, 17:00:18 UTC 8 years ago