My name is Jesper Juul, and I am a Ludologist [researcher of the design, meaning, culture, and politics of games]. This is my blog on game research and other important things.
The American Journal of Play has kindly interviewed me for their latest issue.
If you are interested in my thoughts on the field, and in me summarizing my own history, this is a great piece.
It is an honor but also disorienting to have reached the advanced stage of looking back on my career. Didn’t I just start (checks watch)?
Here is the direct link to the interview.
I am happy to welcome Matthew Farber and Tracy Fullerton’s wonderful new book The Well-Read Game: On Playing Thoughtfully to the Playful Thinking series!
How players evoke personal and subjective meanings through a new theory of player response.
In The Well-Read Game, Tracy Fullerton and Matthew Farber explore the experiences we have when we play games: not the outcomes of play or the aesthetics of formal game structures but the ephemeral and emotional experiences of being in play. These are the private stories we tell ourselves as we play, the questions we ask, and our reactions to the game’s intent. These experiences are called “readings” because they involve so many of the aspects of engaging with literary, cinematic, and other expressive texts. A game that is experienced in such a way can be called “well-read,” rather than, or as well as, “well-played,” because of the personal, interpretive nature of that experience and the way in which it relates to our reading of texts of all kinds.
The concept of the “well-read game” exists at the convergence of literary, media, and play theories—specifically, the works of Louise Rosenblatt’s reader-response theory, Brian Upton’s situational game theory, Tracy Fullerton’s playcentric design theory, and Bernie DeKoven’s well-played game philosophy. Each of these theories, from their own perspective, challenges notions of a separate, objective, or authorial meaning in a text and underscores the richness that arises from the varied responses of readers, who coauthor the meaning of each text through their active engagement with it. When taken together, these theories point to a richer understanding of what a game is and how we might better value our experiences with games to become more thoughtful readers of their essential meanings.
On the occasion of my new book Too Much Fun: The Five Lives of the Commodore 64 Computer, I am writing The History of the Commodore 64 in Twelve Objects, posted weekly from November 1st, 2024:
The final boss in Turrican II for the Commodore Amiga (source)
By 1991, the Commodore 64 was waning as a commercial platform – yet games were still coming out, especially in Europe. There had been little reason to expect that the C64 would be produced for so many years, and Commodore had assumed that the Commodore Amiga would be the replacement.
Launched as a professional computer in 1985 (Amiga 1000) and later as a consumer model in 1987 (Amiga 500), the Amiga was technologically in a completely different league. Designed by Jay Miner and the team behind Atari’s 8-bit computers, the Amiga had a faster CPU, digitized sound, a graphical multitasking OS, and a graphics system geared towards hires, multilayered and fast-moving graphics.
Where the original 1990 Turrican was a C64-first release, Turrican II was released in 1991 for the Amiga and later for the C64, PC, and other platforms. According to interviews with developer Manfred Trenz, Turrican II development started on the C64, but this platform apparently was no longer the primary focus. In this way, the space between Turrican I and II is the moment where the C64 became the secondary platform for the developer. The Turrican games also mark the time where the C64 action-adventure tradition discussed previously became influenced by Japanese action games too.
How would the C64 version stack up to other platforms? As the Zzap!64 review stated, “This game is the sort of program you’d expect … on some exotic, super expensive Japanese console. … The walkers are terrific too, they look like Amiga characters”. While the hardware of competing platforms was improving, C64 developers were also improving their skills, sometimes with inspiration from the demoscene.
The final boss in Turrican II for the Commodore 64 (source)
Developers were trying to keep up with more capable platforms, especially with the Amiga. In C64 reviews, the recurring question in the late 1980s and early 1990s became, “how good is it, compared to the Amiga version?” – or to a newer computer or console? This was raised for games (Defender of the Crown, Lemmings), user interfaces (the graphical GEOS interface), and demos.
In Too Much Fun, I call this the Fourth Life of the C64, characterized by anxiety about the status of the machine. But that anxiety was to dissipate, as I will discuss next week.
Did you worry that the C64 could no longer keep up with newer machines? When did you stop worrying?
Coming Jan 17th: Object #12 – The Commodordion – two C64s as a musical instrument
On the occasion of my new book Too Much Fun: The Five Lives of the Commodore 64 Computer, I am writing The History of the Commodore 64 in Twelve Objects, posted weekly from November 1st, 2024:
It wasn’t all great. The Commodore 64 came with glaring, everyday gnawing flaws that Commodore never fixed:
The 1985 Final Cartridge was your solution to these flaws, creating a new tape format, speeding up the disk drive, adding new BASIC commands and utilizing the function keys (F7 to show the floppy directory).
In today’s parlance, Final Cartridge was a monumental quality of life upgrade. You could already do almost everything without the cartridge, but the cartridge made life easier and faster, allowing you to quickly shuffle between disks, make copies, modify programs, or just load games faster.
Final Cartridge’s additional features also accommodated technically minded user:
How could you make the disk drive faster? You might expect that the bottleneck was reading and writing the floppy disk itself, but that was already plenty fast. The bottleneck was communicating the data over the cable between the C64 and the drive. The disk drive could be sped up because the 1541 disk drive is a small computer of its own, and because there are disk commands for sending small programs to the drive. A fast loader like Final Cartridge thus sends a program to the drive with a faster “protocol,” a faster way to send data between computer and drive.
Did the Final Cartridge make the C64 everything it would have been with more development time and a higher price? Perhaps, but there was a joy in plugging in the cartridge for the first time, making your computer faster, nicer, and more enjoyable.
Which cartridge did you use?
Coming Jan 3rd: Object #10 – You are invited to a Demo Party
On the occasion of my new book Too Much Fun: The Five Lives of the Commodore 64 Computer, I am writing The History of the Commodore 64 in Twelve Objects, posted weekly from November 1st, 2024:
These two floppy disks came with a second-hand Commodore 64. Such flat objects for storing programs were called “floppies” because they were easily bendable, as opposed to fixed disks, and hence quite fragile. 5 ¼” was a common type of floppy disk, shared with IBM PCs and many other computers. As was common, this second-hand C64 had a collection of disks (twenty) with pirated material, and only two pieces of original software.
The 1541 disk drive. Photo by Evan-Amos.
Compared to tapes, such disks were the more expensive storage option for C64s, the 1541 disk drive often costing as much as the computer itself. Already with their first computer, the PET, Commodore had decided that devices should be connected to computers using USB-like cables, rather than through opening the computer and installing hardware. This was an elegant and surprisingly modern solution but also made the devices quite expensive, as they needed to be small computers by themselves.
To read the fragile disks, the 1541 disk drive often needed to do a “head alignment”, where the disk drive adjusted itself by banging the head against an internal stop, giving a surprisingly violent loud sound. To be a C64 disk drive owner was to live with and listen to the recurring sounds of the drive.
According to the label on the floppy disks themselves, the disks originated from a course in WordPerfect for IBM PCs (“WP Kursus” 1-2) and were later appropriated for less “serious” C64 use. The paper sleeve lists the software: Donald Duck’s Playground, Duck Shoot, Falcon Patrol, Frogger, Ghost ‘n Goblins, Grand Prix. Piracy was pervasive on the C64.
There were two types of floppy disks: single- and double sided, the latter being more expensive, but it quickly became known that you could cut a little notch in the side of a floppy, allowing you to use both sides of the cheap disk.
This was part of the impetus behind this history of the C64 through objects : Owning a C64 was an intensely physical thing. When it comes to floppy disks, be a C64 owner was also to be adept with scissors.
Coming December 27th: Object #9 – Final Cartridge – fixing the C64’s flaws
Presenting The Rule Book: The Building Blocks of Games by Jaakko Stenros and Markus Montola. Out now on MIT Press in the Playful Thinking series.
How games are built on the foundations of rules, and how rules—of which there are only five kinds—really work.
Board games to sports, digital games to party games, gambling to role-playing games. They all share one thing in common: rules. Indeed, rules are the one and only thing game scholars agree is central to games. But what, in fact, are rules? In The Rule Book, Jaakko Stenros and Markus Montola explore how different kinds of rules work as building blocks of games. Rules are constraints placed on us while we play, carving a limited possibility space for us. They also inject meaning into our play: without rules there is no queen in chess, no ball in Pong, and no hole in one in golf.
Stenros and Montola discuss how rules constitute games through five foundational types: the explicit statements listed in the official rules, the private limitations and goals players place on themselves, the social and cultural norms that guide gameplay, the external regulation the surrounding society places on playing, and the material embodiments of rules. Depending on the game, rules can be formal, internal, social, external, or material.
By considering the similarities and differences of wildly different games and rules within a shared theoretical framework, The Rule Book renders all games more legible.
Out now in the Playful Thinking series: Peter D. McDonald: Run and Jump, The Meaning of the 2D Platformers.
We are proud to present Peter D. McDonald’s new book.
“How abstract design decisions in 2D platform games create rich worlds of meaning for players.
Since the 1980s, 2D platform games have captivated their audiences. Whether the player scrambles up the ladders in Donkey Kong or leaps atop an impossibly tall pipe in Super Mario Bros., this deceptively simple visual language has persisted in our cultural imagination of video games. In Run and Jump, Peter McDonald surveys the legacy of 2D platform games and examines how abstract and formal design choices have kept players playing. McDonald argues that there is a rich layer of meaning underneath, say, the quality of an avatar’s movement, the pacing and rhythm of level design, the personalities expressed by different enemies, and the emotion elicited by collecting a coin.
To understand these games, McDonald draws on technical discussions by game designers as well as theoretical work about the nature of signs from structuralist semiotics. Interspersed throughout are design exercises that show how critical interpretation can become a tool for game designers to communicate with their players. With examples drawn from over forty years of game history, and from games made by artists, hobbyists, iconic designers, and industry studios, Run and Jump presents a comprehensive—and engaging—vision of this slice of game history.”
For Handmade Pixels, I interviewed some really interesting people in indie games. The interviews are excerpted in the book, but I am slowly putting the full interviews online.
Handmade Pixels is about the history of (the idea of) indie games, and these 2017-2018 interviews provide a window into the thinking at the end of the 20-year time span the book covers.
Here is my interview with Sam Roberts, festival director of IndieCade, where we discuss IndieCade and film festivals, the meaning of indie, and the fear of missing the Next Big Thing.
https://www.jesperjuul.net/handmadepixels/interviews/roberts.html