Microreview: The Face by Jack Vance

Jack Vance’s The Face continues the Demon Princes Quintet, in ways that are both more satisfying and better, and slightly more frustrating, than the previous novels.

You all know the drill by now. Kirth Gersen, one of the few survivors of the Mt. Pleasant raid and massacre, has had his life devoted to identifying, finding and taking down the five “Demon Princes” that organized the raid on his planet.  He’s already taken three of the Princes out, and in the process, he has gained enormous wealth and power. But his obsession (there is no more apt word) to deal with the Demon Princes is as strong as ever.  And so we come to Lens Larque, the titular man who is The Face.

I’ve mentioned in previous reviews that the Demon Princes are procedural mysteries in the sense that the Demon Princes hide their identity, baffle identification of them, and a lot of the matter of the novels is Kirth just figuring out *who* the Demon Prince is (what alias or aliases they are going under) and then going after them. At this point in his career, though, Gersen is nit a scrappy young man who has to stumble across the trail. He has a lot of wealth, owns a bank in fact, and can bend a fair amount of resources to digging out clues by throwing money at the problem¹.

But one of the themes of the novel, which is frustratingly presented, is that all the wealth in the world only goes so far in advancing Gersen’s goals. This is presented in a positive manner, in that Gersen’s attempts to corner Lens Larque go wrong on two beats, no matter how cleverly he has laid his traps and schemes. This is a book where Gersen tries to manipulate events by means of financial manipulations. We’ve seen Gersen use an engineering firm in a previous novel, but here, a lot of the plot revolves around Gersen trying to get shares in a company that Larque ostensibly controls, so as to force a confrontation. There is also a subplot where he sues Lens Larque for damages in an effort to get him to appear in court. These schemes fall on a try-fail cycle until he finally advances matters enough that he can corner Larque where Larque cannot escape his justice. 

Less successful and a recurrent problem for the  series is the role of women. Here, unlike a couple of the previous volumes, the main female character is barely a MacGuffin, save to give Gersen manpain because it turns out that even with all of the money in the world, he and she cannot come together. But I never really got what Gerdian ever saw in Kirth in the first place. The previous “Bond girls” in the Demon Princes novels were tied pretty intimately to the plot to get the Demon Prince, here, Gersen’s pursuit of Gerdian is a sideplot and not at all executed all that well.

And it might be slightly spoilery to say this, so I will be careful in doing so--but Gersen’s inability to have a relationship with Gerdian leads him to, in the end, helping to fulfill Lens Larque’s own ultimate scheme--and for analogous reasons. What they ultimately are is part of the mystery aspect of this novel and I would not give it away. But while it frustrated me that Gersen would fulfill Larque’s scheme and the relationship with Gerdian falls flat--maybe this is part of the whole point of the novel. 

Maybe Vance had decided, by this fourth novel, that Gersen himself at this point was taking on aspects of being a Demon Prince himself. He uses aliases, has a couple of long term confidants and employees, works in secret and to strange purposes, has obsessions, and has difficulty in interacting in a normal manner with people. That was certainly true in the first book (The Star King) and it is even more true, now.  And so, Gersen, while still hunting Demon Princes, is himself a Problem. I don’t know if Vance has intended this potential interpretation and reading of the book, but I think there is validity here.

It should be noted that The Face is significantly longer than the previous novel, and we are about 1.5 times longer than that first novel. Vance does use a lot of this to good use. Sure, there is a lot about this seemingly endless stock scheme that Gersen tries to use, and that is of uneven provenance and interest².  What it does also provide though, is more room for Vance to do what he does best, and that is to drop Gersen in some extremely alien human societies and see how he tries to swim his way out of the latest weird local customs in order to continue his pursuit of Larque. In keeping with that, we get an extended sequence of one of the most unusual sport/game/contests in Vance's oeuvre, that Gersen himself must participate in.

In this, too, we get a contrast between the genteel and beautiful world of Methel, home of the aforementioned Gerdian, and the harsh and unforgiving world of Dar Sai, the deserty (and mineral rich) original home of Lens Larque. The latter in particular really pops as a setting. Sure, desert worlds have been done to death even back in 1979.  But this one is a desert and desolate world that is uniquely Vancian in its strange customs--and also in its technology and architecture. Architecture and buildings and how places look is something Vance has a secondary affect to how people are and what they do, but on Dar Sai, he really lets his imagination go to full effect. Dar Sai may be one of the most memorable places in his fiction.

Ultimately, though, while the book frustrated me somewhat, it may be an artifact of Vance having written this book twelve years³ after the third novel, The Palace of Love. Vance had changed and grown as a writer, and the stylistic differences, and the idea that Gersen himself might in effect be a Demon Princes are new to the series, and understated, and maybe not quite there as effectively as it might have been.I don’t think this is a good place to start even if the novels do stand alone, having some context as to why Gersen has so much money, and why he fumbles around women so much might be better to understand him and his modus operandi.

Is this my favorite of the novels? Parts of it are some of my favorite stuff in the series, and at the same time parts of it are definitively not. This re-read, now through the lens of being a seasoned reviewer, has been a fascinating experience, and I DO look forward to the last book and seeing how that goes.

¹I am reminded of the Gaean Reach RPG (Pelgrane Press) where you can roleplay a Gersen like character going after an enemy like a Demon Prince. In terms of that game, Gersen’s Wealth score has gone up, and he uses it, now as a strong lever. 

²Honestly. If Gersen is James Bond, can you imagine James Bond trying to obtain shares in a company as part of a scheme to get Blofield?

³ Fans of several long running series can take heart in this, perhaps.

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The Math

Baseline Assessment:8/10

Bonuses: +1 for vivid worldbuilding

+1 for an excellent audio experience

Penalties: -2 Gerdian is really just there for manpain, a complete and utter waste of a character. Vance has done SO much better, even within this series.

Nerd Coefficient: 8/10

Reference: Vance, Jack, The Face [1979, audio 2022 Spatterlight Press]

POSTED BY: Paul Weimer. Ubiquitous in Shadow, but I’m just this guy, you know? @princejvstin.

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Review: Wolf at the Door by Joel McKay

If you're dreading how you're going to survive Thanksgiving, at least you're not running for your life

There's danger in hosting a big social gathering. People you haven't seen in years can still make your throat tighten. Various combinations of acquaintances can be in good terms with you but be mortal enemies to each other. You dread the thought of who may knock at the door next. Your pulse quickens and your survival instinct rings alarms urging you to flee. Once the tension reaches critical mass, too much honesty will rip someone's heart. The exchange of bitter words becomes a series of rounds of mutual eviscerations. Arguments get heated until someone loses their head. A friend's careless remark under too much alcohol may lead to you never seeing them again. At any moment, the air can get so heavy that some of those present will suddenly depart from your life.

In Wolf at the Door, by Canadian author Joel McKay, these emotions that tear people to pieces are materialized into tooth and claw. During the Thanksgiving dinner at the Deerborn home, after unpleasant secrets are exposed and lifelong resentments erupt, the night becomes carnage: throats are grabbed, hearts are ripped, guts are scattered, heads are severed, friendships are abruptly ended. After reading this quick novella, you'll never again lament that your Thanksgiving was the worst ever.

In a recent interview, the author explained that the concept behind the book was sparked by the anxiety of COVID quarantine, which kept us barricaded in our houses because what awaited us outside was death. So Wolf at the Door is an interesting case of intense feelings sublimated into art. In cases like this, the author exorcizes his fears by giving them a name and a face and then allowing the rest of us a vicarious triumph when the monster is slayed.

However, beyond the gimmick, the book doesn't have much else to offer. The violence is described with gusto, so if you enjoy stories where blood splatters on everyone's face, and body parts are munched with a loud crack, this book will carry you through October (and November, if you do Thanksgiving the American way). On the more technical side, the book has problems. The narration jumps between all perspectives from one chapter to the next, which in itself isn't something wrong, but when you have a cast of a dozen characters and little space to introduce them, the lack of a cohesive thread makes it confusing to try to remember whose uncle's sister-in-law's best friend's husband is mad at whom.

Wolf at the Door knows one trick, and it does it well enough. If you need to tune out while your relatives bicker at the dinner table, this grisly tale will take your head somewhere a lot less boring.

The Math

Baseline Assessment: 6/10.

Penalties: −1 for a confusing start. It gets better in the second half, where fewer characters remain alive and therefore the reader doesn't have to make so much effort to remember all the names.

Nerd Coefficient: 5/10.

POSTED BY: Arturo Serrano, multiclass Trekkie/Whovian/Moonie/Miraculer, accumulating experience points for still more obsessions.

Reference: McKay, Joel. Wolf at the Door [Birchwood Press, 2022].

6 Games With Aidan Moher

Aidan Moher (he/him) is a Hugo award-winning writer and editor who has written about almost every niche facet of geek culture you can think of from Terry Brooks to Dungeons & Dragons. And whether he’s penning wildly read essays on Lunar: Silver Star Story, the undeniable lasting power of Chrono Trigger (the best RPG ever made), or the forgotten history of Magic: the Gathering, he manages to infuse deep, personal, endearing hooks into every story he tells. He’s written for outlets like Wired, Kotaku, Electronic Gaming Monthly, Uncanny Magazine, Fanbyte, Tor.com, and more.

 

1. What game are you currently playing?

Appropriately, I'm splitting my time between a couple of JRPGs—one current, one retro.

On the big screen downstairs I'm about 60 hours into Xenoblade Chronicles 3 and still mildly obsessed. I really love a lot of creator Tetsuya Takahashi's older games—especially Xenogears, which I just finished replaying—but bounced hard off Xenoblade Chronicles 2, so I was a little hesitant when they announced the third game. It's exceeded all of my expectations, though, and is probably my favourite game in the series now—an improvement on the second game in pretty much every way. Vast world, memorable characters, and Takahashi's typical zany JRPG plot is a drool-worth combination.

Upstairs in my CRT corner, I'm playing Paper Mario for the Nintendo 64 for the first time. I've enjoyed many other games in the series—including Sticker Star, which has a bad reputation—but the original slipped past me for a variety of reasons. It's wild to go back to the very beginning and see all of the series's trademarks right there, fully formed, polished, and perfectly enjoyable 20 years later. It's genuinely funny, the combat is simple but engaging thanks to its timing-based mechanics, and its got some of the best graphics on the system.

2. What upcoming game are you really excited about?

Oh, man, there's been a bunch of announcements that've really got me excited—like Octopath Traveler II, the HD-2D remake of Dragon Quest III, Final Fantasy XVI—and long-announced games—like Sea of Stars and Quartet—but the one that really stands head and shoulders above the crowd is Konami's recent reveal of Suikoden I&II HD Remaster Gate Rune and Dunan Unification Wars. The Suikoden series brings such a unique perspective to the JRPG genre, and since the very first game I've been immersed in its overall plot, which arches over several different games. I was thrilled when some of the original creators announced a spiritual successor in Eiyuden Chronicle: Hundred Heroes—which I'm also really excited about—and genuinely thought we'd never see another Suikoden again. Hopefully, if things goes well with the remaster, we might see a continuation of the overall series and finally get some answers about WTF is going on in Harmonia.

I'm also just thrilled that a new generation of fans will get to discover Suikoden, and heartened to see a publisher give an older JRPG the love and attention it deserves.

3. Is there a game you're itching to replay?

I was planning to replay Suikoden 1 & 2 so I could keep up with the latest season of the Retrograde Amnesia podcast (which is brilliant and highly recommendable to any JRPG fan), but since the announcement of the remaster I've turned my attention to a couple of other old Game Arts favourites: Lunar: Silver Star Story Complete and Grandia.

But!

Plot twist!

I'm looking at playing them on my newly acquired Sega Saturn. Thanks to the Fenrir ODE (an easy to install device that let you play games directly off an SD car) and a vibrant fan hacking community, it's now possible for me to apply the English localizations to the Japanese versions of the games. (Both of which I own Japanese discs for.)

In Grandia's case, the only version released in the west was for PlayStation, and while it's fine and playable, the Saturn original has many little graphical elements—particularly in combat—that the PlayStation didn't handle well and had to be downgraded. I've been wanting to replay Grandia for a while now, and getting to experience the Saturn original is the perfect opportunity for that.

Lunar, on the other hand, has a complex localization history, which I've discussed in the past. Whatever you think of the translation (I like it, despite some of the problematic issues and weird humour), localization company Working Designs also significantly tweaked the gameplay in the western version released on PlayStation, making it much more difficulty and grindy. This stands at odds with the game's warm, kind, and adventurous Saturday Morning anime-style story, and is often the reasons I end up bailing on replays after a few hours, so I'm really looking forward to being able to experience the story with a more appropriate difficulty level.

4. Is there a game that you've changed your mind about over time - either positively or negatively?

This is a really interesting question. I can't nail down a specific game that I've overtly changed my mind on over the years, but what I have done is change how I think about, define, and appreciate Japanese RPGs.

The first of these are my thoughts on the label of Japanese RPG in the first place—I used to be very staunch with this, thinking that a game had to fit into the original Final Fantasy or Dragon Quest's mould to be considered a true blue JRPG. But, over time, I've come to think of labels like "JRPG" as being a shorthand for inspirations, themes, and ideas. So, nowadays I'll happily look back at classic titles like Ogre Battle: March of the Black Queen, Wild Arms, Secret of Evermore, and Final Fantasy Tactics, and discuss them within JRPG "canon" despite being very different games from a gameplay perspective. They're JRPGs, but they're also other things. Thinking of labels as inclusive but not exhaustive identifiers has helped me enjoy and understand the genre in a much broader way.

Oh, and, I guess SaGa Frontier. Playing it back in the day—right after Final Fantasy VII blew everyone's socks off—was a puzzling experience, but, with a lot of perspective and patience, I really admire and appreciate what creator Akitoshi Kawazu was going for. (Even if it's still not fun to play and often feels half finished.)

5. What's one game, which you played as a child or young adult, that has had a lasting influence on you?

It's pretty much a meme at this point that I like Chrono Trigger, so.

But, there's also a good reason for that: Its really great. Final Fantasy VI was the first game that really turned me onto the JRPG genre, but it was Chrono Trigger that turned me into an obsessed fanboy. I came to the genre midway through the 16-bit era, and by the time Chrono Trigger was out, the Super NES was nearing the end of its lifecycle. It's a perfectly polished representation of everything the 8- and 16-bit JRPG generation offered. Gorgeous sprite-based graphics, snappy turn-based combat, a tight story with absolutely no filler, a non-linear second half, incredible use of the Super NES's soundchip, etc.

The development team, which was comprised of the creators of Final Fantasy and Dragon Quest, along with many, many others who eventually became JRPG household names, like Tetsuya Takahashi, Masato Kato, and Yasunori Mitsuda, used it as an opportunity to take everything great about the genre up to that point and pack into int a Greatest Hits-style game. To me, it represents the height of that golden age, and then left the door wide open for Sakaguchi to rewrite the genre with his next major release: Final Fantasy VII.

To prepare for Fight, Magic, Items, I did a deep dive history of Chrono Trigger called "Timeless" that explores the game, its creators, legacy, and impact. It goes into much more detail about why I think Chrono Trigger is such an important game to the genre and to me personally.

6. What is your upcoming project and why is it awesome?

Fight, Magic, Items: The History of Final Fantasy, Dragon Quest, and the Rise of Japanese RPGs (Oct 4, 2022/Running Press) is exactly what it says on the package. It's a history of Japanese RPGs and the people who make and play them. Over its course, I explore the genre's early inspirations thanks to Dungeons & Dragons and PC RPGs like Ultima and Wizardry, the creation of its two most famous franchises, Dragon Quest and Final Fantasy, the genre's surprise rise to meteoric popularity in the west thanks to the breakout success of Final Fantasy VII, and how it navigated the struggle to adjust to the HD era as it made its way to a new revitalization thanks to indie studios and a renewed interest in the genre by young and older fans alike.

At its core, it's a history that focuses on human stories. I didn't want to just write a long Wikipedia-entry, so through the perspective of a western gamer, I dug into the emotional and creative drive that led to people like Sakaguchi and Horii as they created the genre, and the drive and perseverance of creators like Rieko Kodama and Shigesato Itoi as they took that blueprint on new adventures. It's a very personal book, tracking my experiences as a young fan, and my time growing up alongside the genre, and explores universal stories about fandom and creativity, drive, perseverance, and legacy.

Thursday Morning Superhero: Stop Bad Idea!

The bizarre marketing stunts for Bad Idea have returned alongside their return for another round of incredible looking comics.  In addition to encouraging 200 protestors to picket their booth at New York Comic Con in exchange for exclusive comics, they launched a Kickstarter yesterday that will supposedly lead to the end of Bad Idea as we know it if it raises $2.6 million.

The Kickstarter surrounds one of their titles from the first round from the dynamic duo of David Lapham and Matt Kindt, The Hero Trade. The first issue showed up at comic book stores with no mention of who created or published the comic. Some of these comics ended up in the trash, but people quickly caught on to the stunt.  While the story appeared in parts of other Bad Idea books, and even another promotional surprise with the Passive/Aggressive storylines, the Kickstarter is the only way to get future chapters of the story collected in an impressive looking hardcover.  There is even one tier to get a hand-painted cover by Matt Kindt.

It is important to note that the Kickstarter goods will be delivered even if the $2.6 million stretch goal is reached, but it puts the round two books that have been pre-ordered blindly by myself and others at participating stores.  For the second round of Bad Idea's books, fans were encouraged to pre-order the titles blindly, but given how much I enjoyed the first round I was not hesitant to pre-order these books.  It will be interesting to see how the 20 day campaign goes and I am sure there will be some surprise updates along the way.  

POSTED BY MIKE N. aka Victor Domashev -- comic guy, proudly raising nerdy kids, and Nerds of a Feather contributor since 2012.

'Hocus Pocus 2' follows in Disney's bad habit of humanizing monsters

The sequel to the '90s Halloween cult film waters down its villains, but the producers forgot water is deadly to witches

It's hard to discern what kind of movie Hocus Pocus 2 wants to be. It's not, properly speaking, funny. Not particularly scary. Not as heartwarming as it wants to be. Not all that thrilling, especially in the third act. And even when it aims for the vibe of the first movie, that elusive blend of creepy and ridiculous, it's afraid of being too much of either.

The original Hocus Pocus is either a forgettable oddity or a perennial classic, depending on whom you ask. After a lifetime of perfecting the cinematic witch, Disney gave the world a curious variation: a trio of clumsy yet deadly, charming yet predatory, immensely powerful yet not very bright sisters who subverted the feminine archetype of the life-giver by choosing to be life-stealers. Their plan (to gain immortality by consuming children's souls) was no doubt evil, but their slapstick antics and their ignorance of modern life made their threat level wildly irregular, like an update of Macbeth's Weird Sisters by way of the Three Stooges.

As a 21st-century continuation of the story, Hocus Pocus 2 had several tasks to fulfill. Among the ones it succeeds at, it acknowledges that social attitudes toward witchcraft have shifted since the '90s. The witch is now a respectable symbol of female power, sought by a generation dissatisfied with patriarchal spirituality. At the same time, this cultural rebranding opens a market for commodification: the villains are dismayed to see that their old house, where they cooked their perverse potions, has become a theme park version of itself where magical herbs and crystals are sold over the counter. While the heroes in the first movie were effectively witch hunters, the heroines in the sequel are witches themselves. However, this redefinition of the witch role is not fully developed. The development of the heroines' powers competes for narrative focus with the evil sisters' plan to become almighty superwitches, which makes the pace feel bumpy. In theory, it should be possible to showcase both quests in a feature-length film, but since this plot can't make up its mind about which team should be the protagonists, it fails at making either of them compelling.

The opportunity to make commentary on today's womanhood is equally wasted. In the original movie, the witches' motivation for killing children was to remain young forever, a plot point that contains interesting questions about the image expectations imposed on women (and a disturbing subtext about the need to sacrifice motherhood to meet those expectations); in the sequel, they're taken to a modern drugstore full of cosmetic products. No meaningful statement on the underlying evils of ageism is made, and the scene is only used for cultural shock jokes. In more general terms, the movie's evident intention to deliver a feminist message is hindered by unexplainable storytelling choices. There are numerous ways to make a movie about female power; writing every single male character as a useless simpleton is not one of those ways.

Presumably, a witch that kidnaps children is a simple character to build a story around, but the ongoing fad of witch rehabilitation complicates the writer's job. In Hocus Pocus 2, the insertion of a prologue with unnecessary backstory for our villains is the main culprit. Disney has invented its own subtype of villain problem: it's terrified of plain badness. For some reason, Disney villains now need a traumatic past that justifies their later atrocities. That approach gave questionable results in Maleficent, definitely didn't work in Cruella, where Disney went for the ill-advised route of trying to spark empathy for a puppy flayer, and works even less in Hocus Pocus 2, where it hopes that the tragic backstory will humanize a family of child eaters. One can only fear for what Disney will do to the lion Scar in the upcoming prequel.

The ending of Hocus Pocus 2 aspires to make us sympathize with poor Winifred, whose only true wish is to stay close to her sisters. The tearful moment is meant to distract us from the fact that these are child eaters who should not be written as misunderstood outcasts. By inducing the painful whiplash of turning these characters from world-threatening monsters into relatable victims, Disney breaks the neck of the story before throwing its lifeless husk at us.

The Math

Baseline Assessment: 5/10.

Bonuses: +1 for the flying Roomba, +1 for the other flying Roomba. I'm feeling unreasonably generous today.

Penalties: −1 for tonal inconsistency, −1 for lack of focus, −1 for a broken moral compass.

Nerd Coefficient: 4/10.

POSTED BY: Arturo Serrano, multiclass Trekkie/Whovian/Moonie/Miraculer, accumulating experience points for still more obsessions.

Fight, Magic, Items: A Conversation with Aidan Moher

Aidan Moher (he/him) is a Hugo award-winning writer and editor who has written about almost every niche facet of geek culture you can think of from Terry Brooks to Dungeons & Dragons. And whether he’s penning wildly read essays on Lunar: Silver Star Story, the undeniable lasting power of Chrono Trigger (the best RPG ever made), or the forgotten history of Magic: the Gathering, he manages to infuse deep, personal, endearing hooks into every story he tells. He’s written for outlets like Wired, Kotaku, Electronic Gaming Monthly, Uncanny Magazine, Fanbyte, Tor.com, and more.

Joe Sherry: We've known each other for a number of years, well before A Dribble of Ink won a well deserved Hugo Award, but I think at this point more of our readers will know you online from your video game writing than your book reviews or curated essays.

We share a love of old school, classic JRPGs and I'm pretty sure we have a fairly similar history in gaming, but what's your origin story? How and when did you first get into JRPGs?

Aidan Moher: I got way back with Japanese RPGs, but with a bit of an early plot twist: my first encounter with them left a bad taste in my mouth that lasted a few years.

I grew up as a big PC gamer as a kid—all the way back to the Commodore 64—and my first real game "console" was a Game Boy, which I absolutely adored. I was obsessed with Super Mario Land and Fall of the Foot Clan, and tore through batteries like nobody's business. One time, though, while visiting a friend's cousin's house, he showed me the game he was playing on his Game Boy: Final Fantasy Legend II. I tried it out, moving an abstract hero around a grid-based map, kind of like a board game, and then whisking off to a different screen for a slow, menu-based form of combat.

I handed the Game Boy back, unimpressed. Whatever this was? It was lame.

Fast forward a few years, though, and my cool babysitter—who regularly brought over games to play, and we often spent whole evenings blasting demons on the moons of Mars in Doom—popped a game into my newly acquired Super NES. It was a lot like the game I'd played on the Game Boy with its grid-based map and separate screen for combat, and it even shared a name: Final Fantasy III.

By the time we hit the first save point in Narshe Mines, I was obsessed. A little bit older, and now devouring epic fantasy novels, the idea of a big, sprawling fantasy story I could play was too cool to resist. After that, I hunted the pages of gaming magazines for anything related to Final Fantasy III and soon discovered the creator's follow-up game: Chrono Trigger.

It was game over after that. I've been a JRPG fanatic ever since.

Joe: The Super Nintendo really was a formative system for JRPGs. I got my start on the NES with the original Final Fantasy and Dragon Warrior, though my Dragon Warrior cartridge never could hold a save so I only finished that game a few years ago on my phone, interestingly enough, and thanks to quality of life improvements. But it was Final Fantasy II that really jump started my love of the genre.

With the wider RPG genre diversifying more and more (Western RPGs, Action RPGs, Japanese RPGs, Strategy RPGS, Tactical, etc) what has kept you coming back to the JRPG subgenre?

I ask this while I’m in the middle of Horizon Forbidden West, which is an action / adventure game with strong RPG elements. ARPG? Is that a descriptor that is used? But I also ask it while I’m incredibly excited about recently announced remasters of Suikoden I and II.

Aidan: I mean, what keeps us coming back to any of our favourite things? At 38, I'm still drawn to many of the same things I was as an eight year old: big stories, cool characters, epic encounters, scary monsters. From the moment JRPGs clicked for me, they latched onto the things that've inspired me as a consumer and creator of media my whole life. I just like stories about people overcoming obstacles by using fireballs and exploring worlds with lots of made up words. It's part of who I am.

JRPGs really had an ebb and flow to them, though, so if you rewind a decade to 2012, I was in a big console JRPG doldrums because the entire genre was having trouble transitioning to the HD era. I still played a ton of them on my DS and PSP, but the big, epic experiences in front of my TV were replaced by stuff like Deus Ex, World of Warcraft, and Skyrim. I wasn't even much into replaying retro favourites at that point, and all my old consoles/games were still buried away in a closet at my parents' house. It wasn't until a few years later, as JRPGs started to see a bit of a revival on consoles that they started to consume the majority of my living room gaming time again.

I think your last point is really interesting, though, because I credit a lot of the genre's revival on the way it started to adopt western game design ideas—with series like Final Fantasy taking on open world design elements from western hits like Skyrim and World of Warcraft—and the way western genres and games started to adopt some of the most popular JRPG mechanics—look no further than Assassin's Creed or Horizon and their adoption of JRPG-like systems. JRPGs and western games have always had a symbiotic inspirational relationship, and I don't think it's a coincidence that they saw a major resurgence right around the time they started more openly adopting each other's ideas.

Now, I think we're seeing the broad success of more mainstream JRPGs open the door for more traditional JRPGs. Stuff like the Suikoden remasters, Sea of Stars, or Eiyuden Chronicles probably would've have found a footing ten years ago, but there's a hungry audience for all of those games, and it's not just deep-down-the-rabbit-hole JRPG nerds. I think we're reaching a place where the kids who grew up playing Final Fantasy III, Chrono Trigger, and Xenogears are reaching the age where we're influential buyers, but also a gateway to a whole new generation of gamers: our kids. Reaching into the past to revive games like Suikoden and Final Fantasy VII is a great way to reinvigorate lapsed fans and get them reinvested in a genre they might've left behind—while still appealing to the hardcore audience who'll lap up all of these games.

Joe: Before we get to your book, do you have any recent JRPGs that you’d recommend? You and I chatted about Dragon Quest XI a few years back, which was just about a distilled experience of a classic JRPG could be while still having modern conveniences, but has anything else struck your interest?

Aidan: It's a great time for JRPG fans and, in many ways, feels like the next phase for the genre as we see new releases that focus on innovation and genre-blending (like, say, Xenoblade Chronicles 3 and Final Fantasy XVI) being released alongside more conventional titles (like Bravey Default 2 and Eiyuden Chronicles) that allows the genre to be in conversation with its past while still forging new territory. I've been enjoying Xenoblade Chronicles 3 a lot—its still way too system-heavy, but is generally an improvement over its predecessor in every way—and then I've been really enjoying other games that overlap with JRPGs on a Venn diagram, like 13 Sentinels: Aegis Rim, which is a great visual novel with a weird tower defense game built in, and, of course, Elden Ring, which fits the broadest possible definition of Japanese RPG, so I'm counting it.

I'm a very inclusive, big bucket kind of person when it comes to genre labels—I like to think of them as sets of inspiration, ideas, and themes, rather than constrictive, objective identities.

Joe: Now - about your book. I think to a point everything we’ve just discussed is a bit of “why this book” but what brought your love of JRPGs to book length?

Aidan: As mentioned earlier, I've been playing JRPGs for nearly my entire life, but it wasn't until five or six years ago that I made a conscious effort to start revisiting favourite games and earlier generations. I'd been keeping up with the genre, but started to wonder if I'd still enjoy the older style of JPRG that's less "immersive" and "realistic" and more interpretive and metaphorical in its presentation. Did I still have the imaginative chops (and patience) for that older style of game? So, I loaded up an emulator and visited two beloved Super NES JRPGs that I'd missed the first time around: Lufia II: Rise of the Sinistrals and Terranigma.

And adored them.

I missed Lufia II due to it being released near the end of the Super NES's life cycle, and Terranigma was never officially released in North America. So, I went into those experiences with nostalgia for the era and style, but not for the games themselves. Walking away enamoured with them, and suddenly in conversation with my younger self who'd grown up obsessed with Super NES and PlayStation JRPGs, I realized that if I felt this way, then lots of other people would feel this way, too. So, I started pitching freelance articles to gaming sites based around the idea of revisiting this nostalgia and examining these games as an adult and through the experience I'd acquired with the genre in the decades since.

On Kotaku, I examined how a whole generation of science fiction and fantasy authors were as inspired by Hironobu Sakguchi as they were by J.R.R. Tolkien, and looked at the lasting legacy of Lunar: Silver Star Story Complete for Electronic Gaming Monthly. Noted JRPG nerd and brilliant agent Eric Smith loved these pieces, and eventually we started chatting about a book based on these ideas. A lot of back and forth ensued, but we whipped together a great proposal, and here we are.

Specifically, I think the Japanese RPG is having a bit of a revival, especially with a more mainstream audience due to the Switch's popularity, and something I call "weaponized nostalgia" that explains why Square Enix and similar companies are bringing back all these classic games right at this moment. The idea is basically that all the kids and teens that grew up playing Final Fantasy VII, Chrono Cross, and Suikoden are now adults with purchasing power and, importantly, are gatekeepers to an untapped demographic of gamers: kids. I know I sure enjoy introducing my kids to my childhood favourites.

Joe: I dig it. I’m feeling likewise inspired by the JRPG renaissance. It’s definitely rekindled my love of the genre, as has the nostalgia factor. So - high level because obviously everyone should drop what they are doing right this moment and order your book - what can readers expect from Fight, Magic, Items?

Aidan: My elevator pitch for the book is pretty simple: Fight, Magic, Items is the history of Japanese RPGs and the people who made them.

But, my goal for the book was also to go above and beyond a technical, linear history of the genre that just regurgitated Wikipedia factoids. The most appealing thing to me about these games are the people—the ones who made the games, the ones who played them, the ones who continue to make new games because they fell in love with the genre as kids and couldn't let go. So, Fight, Magic, Items isn't just a history, it's an examination of the creative process, of what drove people like Hironobu Sakaguchi and Yuji Horii to attempt something as bold as they did when they created the genre, and to understand how their similar beginnings and parallel ambitions ended up leading to two series that are now vastly different from each other.

And then there's the people who play the games, the fans, lapsed and current. JRPGs are a core memory for me, they're baked into me as a creator, and there's millions of other readers out there like me. They might not share the exact same memories as me, we might've played different games, have different favourites, but that core warmth of nostalgia and love for the genre is a shared experience. So, I put a lot of myself into the book—my experiences discovering the games and growing up alongside them. It's not quite a memoir, but readers will turn the last page feeling like they know me a bit better, and hopefully discover some new stories and facts about the games they love along the way.

Joe: Aidan, Thank you very much for taking the time to chat about some of your gaming history and about Fight, Magic, Items. I am excited to read it. Everything about it, from the nostalgia to the games I still like to play, is exactly what I’m here for.

I assume Fight, Magic, Items is available everywhere fine books are sold?

Aidan: Thank you for having me! It's been such a joy to connect with other people who love these games as much as I do, and to share the stories of the people who made and play them.You can, indeed, pick Fight, Magic, Items up at your local bookstore! If you want more information about the book, including an excerpt, links to coverage and interviews, etc. you can visit its official website: FightMagicItems.rocks

Microreview [Book]: Fight, Magic, Items: The History of Final Fantasy, Dragon Quest, and the Rise of Japanese RPGs in the West by Aidan Moher

A must buy for any JRPG fan.

There's something special about starting up a new Japanese role-playing game (JRPG). Whether it’s the promise of adventure, the camaraderie between party members, the excitement of discovering some long-forgotten magic, or the comfort of finding an endearing town to rest your head—JRPGs have been delivering players formative experiences for decades. In the sub-genre, one will discover indelible stories that trigger nostalgia, soundtracks that raise the hair on the back of your neck preparing you for the journey to come, and best of all, an experience to share with friends. Thankfully for us, Aidan Moher was one such recipient of many of the formative experiences that JRPGs had on offer.

Fight, Magic, Items is a confluence of the history of JRPGs and their expansion west alongside Moher’s personal journey with the sub-genre. The book homes in on Enix and Square, and more specifically, Dragon Quest and Final Fantasy—the two biggest heavyweights in the sub-genre. From the humble beginnings of Yuji Horii and Hironobu Sakaguchi, the creators of both series respectively, to their commercial and critical successes and missteps, Fight, Magic, Items covers three and a half decades of struggle, drama, and perseverance for some of the most well-respected game developers, and franchises, in history. And, as an accompaniment to the historical aspect, we live through a young Moher as he hotly anticipates more news and information from his favorite developers.

Moher keeps fantastic pacing throughout most of the book, making it easy to lose yourself in the read. Fight, Magic, Items is filled with so many appealing tidbits of JRPG history. From what kind of pre-established media influenced the nascent JRPG developers’ decision to include western tropes in their games to which genres impacted their already established intellectual property, many things will click for any reader who has loosely followed the sub-genre over the years. Did you know that Call of Duty influenced some of the design choices for Final Fantasy XIII? That would explain it’s black sheep status.

For most people in the west, Final Fantasy is the name synonymous with JRPGs, but in Japan, Dragon Quest is king. Steeped in traditional genre tropes and honing its mechanics and systems to a sharp edge, Dragon Quest continues to do what it does best—with its next release (Dragon Quest XII: The Flames of Fate) hopefully out next year. Meanwhile, Final Fantasy ditched its turn-based combat years ago in favor of frenetic action-packed gameplay, a franchise that’s always shifting, and with their next release (Final Fantasy XVI) announced for 2023, both franchises are still going strong. But what happened between the original releases of both franchises in the late 80s and the upcoming release of both these JRPG juggernauts? Which games failed, and which pushed the sub-genre into the stratosphere? Which other JRPG franchises were influenced by these titans, and which were made despite them? Fight, Magic, Items has many of the answers and lays them out in a way that keeps engagement throughout.

Moher is enthusiastic about the subject matter, and it comes through in his voice. Every step of the journey is laid out with excitement and threaded perfectly through to the next chapter. I could feel the impact Final Fantasy VI’s big plot twist had on the author, not to mention VII’s main character send-off. I could relate to the decision a younger Moher had to make when choosing between a PlayStation and a Nintendo 64. Was he to follow the console of the company he had loved all along or follow the games that he wanted? Many kids, myself included, have been in such a situation and each retelling of his experience with JRPGs brings the conversation back to Fight, Magic, Items being such a relatable read, whether you're a fan of the sub-genre or video games in general.

While most of the book follows Dragon Quest/Final Fantasy and their developers, Moher brings other franchises to the discussion; Persona (4 Golden being my personal favorite), Super Mario RPG, Blue Dragon, Legend of Dragoon, Breath of Fire, and Baten Kaitos among others are all sprinkled throughout. I had a sincere appreciation for the mention of more obscure titles that didn't necessarily sell well but had an impact on the genre. I didn't know anyone else who had played Baten Kaitos—and in turn discovered the wonderful confectionary village, Paranasse—so it was refreshing to feel as though I was essentially sharing that experience with the author. Baten Kaitos was just one of many examples of this feeling throughout my time with the book.

Another of my favorite things I eagerly anticipated throughout the book were Moher’s asides. These would give a small description of a game’s synopsis, history, primary developers, release year, console, and publisher. This was not only informational but gives respect and shines the limelight on many of the people who worked on some of the sub-genre's greatest (and some not-so-great) games.

While most of the book has a solid loop of franchise-specific history, game industry and game development history, and Moher’s personal history with the genre, it eventually hits a bit of a snag. It’s through no fault of the author, but of the advancing technology of the time and the Japanese publishers’/developers’ archaic view toward game creation. Moher keeps it as interesting as possible, but the focus turns more toward specific games and less about the industry at large or his personal experiences. Though these things are still present, they feel inferior to the flow in the earlier chapters. What started as humble beginnings for these legendary JRPG developers evolved into such massive corporate projects with so many cogs that it was impossible to attribute the success to just a handful of people. Regardless of the flow, the information was still intriguing and engaging.

In my opening, I mentioned that JRPGs are formative. This sub-genre helped form many of the writers in the industry today and still has its hooks in many players—though I'm sure many of us wish we had more time for these epic adventures. But in addition to being formative, this sub-genre is also transformative, casting echoes throughout the video game industry and having an effect on games considered outside of its sphere, but also allowing other genres into its own. What defines a JRPG is now a bit different than it was in the 90s (I’m looking at you Soulsborne games), but nonetheless distinctive. Though my journey into the world of JRPGs is different from Moher’s, he creates an inviting umbrella that can be appreciated by all who have found comfort within this sub-genre of influential video games. As someone who doesn't find too many things nostalgic—hell, my favorite game is only from nine years ago—it was impressive to find that Moher’s words took the wheel and had me riding shotgun while I relived some of the best escapism from my youth. Even if I hadn't played the title he was discussing, I still felt a connection to the content. Moher’s appreciation and intent are infectious and well worth investing your time into. Fight, Magic, Items isn't just a history of some of the greats, but a celebration of an incredible sub-genre that has influenced people the world over.

Posted by: Joe DelFranco - Fiction writer and lover of most things video games. On most days you can find him writing at his favorite spot in the little state of Rhode Island.