I felt like writing a much simpler analysis of some of the problems with her video and its manner of proceeding. Prepare for a wall. And then I'm off to sleep late once again, though it was a fun exercise I must say.
DiD and the Normative Example
The opening example Sarkeesian uses to introduce the Damsel in Distress trop (henceforth “DiD”
demands close attention. Star Fox Adventures is certainly not an instance of this trope that would be situated chronologically or causally prior to the cases she will subsequently discuss; one might then assume that it is meant to serve as a paradigmatic example of the trope, meaning a case that would condense all of the basic features into a single illustrative instance for further comparison. But this would also be a mischaracterization, for whether or not SFA's use of DiD might be capable of offering a particularly rich and typical set of narrative features, any such elements are in fact not the focus of her attention. Indeed, rather than any examination of the functioning of DiD within the game itself or in its narrative, what she instead offers is an account of the genesis of these elements: in short, a brief tale of how Nintendo's Miyamoto took what should have been a powerful outing for a strong female protagonist and reversed it, putting her back into place as yet another trapped woman to be rescued by the player.
It is neither in my interest nor particularly feasible to engage in depth with this history of SFA's development, for the necessary resources and information simply do not exist; the bit of storytelling she gives us is one long-repeated tale in the gaming world, but depends for its crucial point (the intervention of Miyamoto) on the somewhat anecdotal evidence that he once suggested in an interview that this new game, then still titled Dinosaur Planet, would probably work well as a Star Fox entry. In any case, Nintendo does have a history of recasting new projects to fit into existing franchises (see Kirby's Epic Yarn, most recently), and something like that clearly happened with SFA, though we can only speculate as to whether the original female co-protagonist (one of two playable characters, the other male) had any impact on the decisions made beyond a desire to put the familiar face of Fox on the project.
But what may have gone on behind closed doors at Nintendo is not the critical component here. It is more important to examine how Sarkeesian uses this example to set up her video and introduce the trope, for it has tremendous repercussions for her analysis as a whole. If this particular case was not chosen as a chronological, causal, or even paradigmatic example of the DiD trope, what role does it actually serve? I would suggest that it should in fact be understood as a normative example. A normative example is one that carries an ethical judgment within it, bridging the particulars of description with the abstractions of ethics or justice, thereby making the latter concrete and thereby helping us to see not only that something is ethically right or wrong but also how it is so. A normative example might, for instance, take the form of a case study of the mistreatment of an elderly patient, offering a description of the manner in which this patient's treatment diminished his dignity; the outline of this case would then help the reader better see how human dignity is tangibly wronged by various real practices, offering an advancement over a purely rights-based or philosophically abstract ethical principle of dignity. The goal is to evoke the reader's sense of injustice and to make him or her begin to see what is ethically wrong here--not in the abstract anymore, but now given body in a fully-realized case--thereby effecting a shift in our future perception of related cases, connecting the ethical belief to our perception, much as a child learns to instinctively recognize different forms of immoral behavior rather than only to deduce them from rules and principles.
I certainly would not downplay the importance of normative examples, nor their power to forge new, rich links between various practices or features of our world and our sense of right and wrong. But their rhetorical power can also make them a dangerous or suspect choice if the analogical connection between the chosen normative example and those cases that are to follow is weakly supported--and that is in fact the case here. The story of SFA is structured to show us how the DiD trope can be seen, in this instance, as a removal of a female character from agency, a stripping of her power to be an active player, and a restriction of her role to that of a goal or a reward for the male protagonist. The salient features are: (1) a pre-existing, active role for the female character; (2) the direct intervention of a paternal figure of the genre, here represented by Miyamoto; and then (3) the introduction to DiD as a reconfiguration of this existing character's role, moving her from activity to passivity. One can feel the potential injustice here, and in that sense the normative example has been very well deployed: we might now begin to read DiD as an almost strategic technique of stripping agency from female characters. The next step is to carry this sense of injustice forward into the subsequent examples, to now align our vision such that all cases of DiD may be seen as direct offenses to the agency of what otherwise should have or might have been strong female characters. In Sarkeesian’s rather concise statement:
The tale of how Krystal went from protagonist of her own epic adventure to passive victim in someone else’s game illustrates how the Damsel in Distress trope disempowers female characters and robs them of the chance to be heroes in their own rite.
But is it at all accurate to read other cases of DiD in this manner? Each use of a narrative device or trope involves its own kind of decision and intervention, and should be read in large part as a response to a particular problem or question in context. To ethically read DiD as she suggests would mean that we implicitly assume its use to primarily be a matter of altering the role of a female character who pre-exists this decision (it also treats video games and their plot or character elements as inherently narrative rather than functional; more on this mistake later). But this reading is in fact greatly at odds with the cases of DiD in gaming that she will subsequently take on, and to present the ethical problem in this form only distorts the understanding of each of these cases in turn, attempting somewhat dishonestly to carry our sense of injustice onto each one in the service of building a comprehensive and decontextualized distaste for the trope.
I will examine her rather substantial misreading of the Mario franchise in detail a bit later, but for the moment, let's look briefly at Donkey Kong, the first of Miyamoto's DiD games and the origin of the Mario character. Sarkeesian notes that the game evolved partly from an attempt to create a Popeye arcade game. According to the NSMBWii Iwata Asks interview in which we hear a bit more detail from Miyamoto, this is true, although it would seem that the license for Popeye was already held by Nintendo in some form (having already produced playing cards), so that the proposed use of Popeye for their next game would appear to be more a matter of taking advantage of an existing license--one potentially very valuable given the high international recognizability of the characters--than it was a matter of Miyamoto selecting that franchise in a vacuum. As for why the negotiations for an arcade game fell though, there do not appear to be details. But Miyamoto makes a much more noteworthy point in the same interview:
Now, a fun game should always be easy to understand -- you should be able to take one look at it and know what you have to do straight away. It should be so well constructed that you can tell at a glance what your goal is and, even if you don't succeed, you'll blame yourself rather than the game.
And, a bit earlier, he gives an indication how Popeye might fit that goal:
The basic concept of Popeye is that there is the hero and his rival who he manages to turn the tables on with the aid of spinach.
Iwata then suggests that this latter description is a bit like Pac-Man (perhaps implying that spinach functions like the pellet power-ups in that prior title), to which Miyamoto enthusiastically assents. The important contribution here, however, is the definition of narrative within games. Particularly with these earliest of games, in which characters or other details could only be rendered in the simplest of shapes, the one and only consideration of plot or narrative elements was instant recognition: the player should be able to spot the goal and adversaries immediately, for gameplay is the core of the experience.
It is not surprising, then, that early games drew from the most instantly recognizable tropes and elements, those of comic strips and cartoons; early games were never to be understood as themselves contributing stories, narratives, or anything of the sort, but instead were simply gameplay concepts that used the most familiar of elements to make the goals and items clear to the player. To read the use of DiD in Donkey Kong as in any way continuous with the later tale of stripping agency from the character of Krystal is dishonest and misleading; this was not a device introduced into a story, nor an injustice enacted on existing characters. A simplified instance of DiD was itself at the origin, as a useful trope for establishing gameplay bounds, and the game’s characters were born from that device rather than subjected to it. To read the use of these elements as any kind of decision made regarding the female character’s agency would be akin to reading character-relevant meaning in Mario’s famous mustache, when it was only added as the easiest way to make a recognizable face with so few pixels--games of that era merely reflect, in shorthand, various simple elements that are immediately recognizable to the populace.
But one should not misunderstand this as a critique based on intentions. While tropes constitute a highly reductive and unscholarly form of analysis, I am more than familiar with the benefits of analyzing discursive elements and how their repercussions that go well beyond intent. Her implicit distortion of early games by imputing a kind of narrative choice, however, is actually a misread on the discursive level itself. It flattens the context and contribution of each game to its era, demanding that any instance of DiD be read as an entrenchment of classically repressive ideals; whether the DiD scenario pops us in war propaganda or in a comically distorted use at an arcade console, she would have us read the same effect, that of stripping agency. When she speaks earnestly from the privileged position of an analyst who can teach her audience about these dangerous tropes hiding in our games, the case of something like Donkey Kong should instantly raise questions as to the purpose of this kind of research. There is nothing to be uncovered or discovered in Donkey Kong on this point; the game consciously and openly uses DiD, and expects the player to recognize the trope; but when it does so in order to produce a comic game in which a small mustached man races to defeat a gorilla, this "trope" that might once have been put to use in utterly humorless propaganda now becomes a kind of lighthearted joke, and it's hard to imagine anything but snickering today at the sight of the same propaganda poster she showed (though Donkey Kong is surely only one of countless pop and cartoon reproductions that led this kind of imagery to feel inherently comic). Progress will never take the condescending form of demanding we recognize and cleanse our cultural items of tropes or themes deemed repressive, nor of lecturing a group or medium in this fashion; we recombine and reuse elements in ways that shift meaning at each moment, something that this half-normative and half-discursive reading based on tropes is condemned to miss every time. There are many problems with today's films, cartoons, and games, but they will neither be found nor ever remedied in the manner she attempts.
While many reactions were extreme and absurd, it's no surprise that many gamers reacted to this form of lecturing that loosely uses tropes to connect inflated normative examples to the rest of the medium; I suspect that she in fact chose to focus on Miyamoto in order to suggest that even one of the most kind-seeming paternal figures of the medium harbors regressive attitudes. There is more to be said regarding the Mario franchise and how the series went on to celebrate childlike qualities in manner directly counter to any classic power fantasies of DiD--and much more to be said about the inherent problems with using tropes for analysis--but it will have to wait for the next installment, if I keep up the motivation to write one.