What do you do when you can't play as many board games as you'd like? You read about them! (At least, that's what I've been doing.) Here is a roundup of a few books about gaming that I've enjoyed during my adventure in Rome. 1) The Immortal Game: A History of Chess by David Shenk In this book, Shenk has created a mashup of family history, chess history, and his personal experiences as a new chess player trying to fall in love with the game. His final product is an exuberant and informative work that gave me tons of ideas for what to read next. (Did you know that medieval romances often include scenes where the lovers play each other at chess? Or that Napoleon played on a fancy chessboard while in exile, never knowing it contained a secret plan for his escape? OMG!) Although Shenk sometimes overstates the social influence and interpretation of chess—at least in the eyes of a skeptical historian like me—his book is an excellent pleasure read that helped rekindle my own interest in chess. I may break my dusty old board out when I get home. 2) The Monopolists: Obsession, Fury, and the Scandal Behind the World's Favorite Board Game by Mary Pilon I personally hate playing Monopoly. Fortunately, the history of the game is far more interesting than the game itself. Apparently the true inventor of the game didn't receive full credit for her brainchild until long after her death, and before Parker Brothers got ahold of the title, the game was popular among liberals and anti-Monopolists who never expected the game to become a game company's goldmine. This book taught me a lot about games as social messages, as well as about intellectual property and patent law in the United States. Definitely worth a read for both gamers and people who are interested in American social history. 3) Of Dice and Men: The Story of Dungeons & Dragons and the People Who Play It by David Ewalt I hate to say it, but this book disappointed me. I am very interested in the history of D&D and in roleplaying games generally, but Of Dice and Men is bloated with the author's descriptions of his own campaigns, obsessions, and insecurities about being an avid D&D player. I often found myself skipping over his personal stories in search of the next history section, and I would then find the historical sections to be a little bit thin. I would have especially liked to see a more insightful analysis of D&D and the Satanic Panic, which I remember because my grandparents used to warn me never to play the game lest I make contact with actual demons. I'll definitely be on the lookout for a deeper meditation on what I consider to be one of the most important games ever made. If you have any good suggestions for books about gaming, please feel free to leave me a comment!
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I took some time this afternoon to watch Going Cardboard, a 2012 documentary about the rising popularity of German board games in the United States—at least, I think that's what it was about. And that is the problem with this documentary. The subject of Going Cardboard is obviously fascinating to me, because it's about board games. I really enjoyed getting to see footage from Essen, and I especially loved seeing interviews with people behind the games I enjoy every day. There were some cool interviews, too. I had no idea that a guy named Zev is behind Z-Man games. I regularly see Donald Vaccarino's name on my Dominion box, but I had no idea what he looked like. (Actually, the only designer whose picture I could identify is Friedemann Friese—it's hard to miss green hair.) It was fun to hear board game publishers speak for themselves, and to see snippets of a story about a man who wanted to publish his game, Huang Di, but just couldn't seem to catch a break. As you can see, however, there was a lot going on in this documentary. It utterly lacked focus. The sound and picture quality were cheap, but it was a low budget doc, so I can forgive that. I was not, however, impressed by the nonexistent main storyline. Was this doc about American vs. German games? About the Spiel des Jahres? About the game publishing industry in general? It tried to be about all of these things, and ended up being about none of them. This makes me sad, because each of those subjects individually would have been fascinating. The palpable enthusiasm of the people interviewed for the doc was infectious, so the raw material was pretty good. But the final product ended up being lackluster. If you are a board gaming megafan, you will enjoy this film just because. But I probably wouldn't show this to a non-gamer to help them understand what I do with my spare time, because there isn't a strong enough hook to draw them in. You would think that, when naming a new game, you would at least choose a title that is easy to Google. That clearly did not occur to whoever localized The Game: Are You Ready to Play The Game? Not only is the name pretty unwieldy, but its "badass" skull theme is goofy and has nothing to do with the actual gameplay. That said, the fact of the matter is that this game is addictive. Seriously, I can't quit playing it. The Game's German name is Spiel...so lange du kannst! This translates to "Play... as long as you can!" And believe me, you will. There is a reason this game was a 2015 Spiel des Jahres nominee. The rules of The Game are simple, and so is its overall concept. There are 102 cards in the game. Four them are used to start off the stacks on which the rest of the cards are played. Two of the stacks ascend from 1 to 99, while the other two descend from 100 to 2. The remaining cards are the numbers 2–98. Each player draws a starting hand of 6–8 cards, depending on the number of players (The Game is a co-op that can accommodate 1–5). Every turn, each player must play at least two of his or her cards before drawing back up to the hand limit. If you can lay every single card on a pile, you win. If you don't win—this will usually be the case—you judge yourself by how few cards were still left at the end. If there are fewer than ten cards remaining, you had a pretty good run. To add some strategic depth to the game, there is also the "backwards" rule. This means that you can lay a card on an ascending pile that is 10 less than the top card on the pile (e.g. a 29 to a 19 on a 1 to 99 pile), or a card on a descending pile that is 10 greater than the top card on the pile (e.g. a 79 to an 89 on the 100 to 2 pile). This helps you to buy yourself some more breathing room as you try to get rid of more cards. Although it is not a perfect game—luck has a lot to do with your final results--The Game is highly addictive and remarkably tense for a game that is about stacking some number cards. I have played it solo and in a group of three, and it was a lot of fun in both cases. My friends kept saying, "Let's try that one more time. I'm sure we can do better this time!" Sometimes I pull it out as a warmup for a longer gaming session, but end up spending an hour just playing The Game. I actually told my boyfriend that it was like an analog cell phone game because it is quick and you'll play over and over again. Then I checked the iOS Store: There IS an app! And, rather than tone down the whole skull theme, it appears that the app developers have doubled down. Have a listen, because that voiceover is AMAZING. I start laughing every time I hear it. I keep thinking I'm actually about to play Mortal Kombat. If you're looking for something deep and complicated, look elsewhere. But if you want a simple, inexpensive card game with a lot of replayability, I highly recommend The Game. I'm honestly glad it is in my collection, even with the skull art and ridiculous name. Although solo gaming is growing in popularity, not too many board games are made exclusively for solo play. One exception is Hostage Negotiator, a solitaire game whose successful funding through Kickstarter revealed that demand really is high enough to support the publication of one-player board games. Your role in Hostage Negotiator is exactly what you would expect: You must free hostages from one of three abductors (more are added through expansion packs). If you neutralize the abductor and free more than half of the hostages, you win. If you lose more than half of the hostages, or if the abductor escapes, you are defeated. This game is generally billed as a dice chucker, but it incorporates several interesting strategic elements, including deckbuilding. To make progress with an abductor (or not), you engage in several "conversations," during which you play conversation cards. Your starting hand consists of six zero-cost conversation cards that you must use to improve your situation. Depending on how you deploy the cards, you can reduce the abductor's threat level—thus lowering the likelihood of a hostage's death and giving you more dice to roll—and/or win conversation points, which are used to purchase more useful cards for the next turn. Once you have figured out some of an abductor's demands, you also have the option of conceding them, which can provide short-term benefits but also nasty long-term consequences. Each round, you must draw a card from the terror deck, which further complicates your situation and pushes you closer to a pivotal event that will bring the game to an end. The dice rolling aspect of the game might drive some players crazy. It is entirely possible that all of your rolls will be terrible and that you will lose the game as a result. But I actually found the randomness to be a lot of fun because it was easy for me to imagine myself on the phone with a panicky, unstable hostage abductor whose actions were becoming increasingly erratic. Also, as I played the game more, I developed strategies that made me feel like I had a chance at success, so it was satisfying to fight on even if I ultimately lost. Hostage Negotiator is a highly replayable game, with a lot of variability built into it. Not only are there slightly different rules for each abductor, but the randomization of terror cards and abductor demands creates a slightly different scenario each time you play. If you pick up more abductor packs, you can also try your skills against abductors with different special rules and abilities. Although not all of the abductors are compelling, Hostage Negotiator does a good job coming up with interesting mechanics that are connected with the abductors' identities and personal situations. This isn't immediately clear in the base game. The recommended first abductor for beginners, Arkayne Massua, is a generic terrorist type who wants weapons, money, etc. But the others, Edward and Donna, provide much more interesting scenarios. Donna, in particular, is a favorite of mine because she is a teacher who has been denied tenure, and who has taken several of her students hostage in a desperate bid for professional security and affirmation. I always wonder: How old are her students? Did she have the nerve to threaten her most brilliant and delightful pupils, or did she work in a school where everyone treated her like crap? How would it feel to be a kid in that class, proud that you did your homework assignment for once and then coming to the realization that this was no normal school day? Some of Donna's demands are darkly hilarious, and it really adds to the joy of playing the game. Hostage Negotiator is at its best when it helps you tell yourself a story. In the expansion packs, some of the new abductors are generic criminal types who just have cool added mechanics. But one is so sympathetic that his hostages get Stockholm Syndrome, which makes freeing them more interesting and challenging. While all of the different abductors make for fun and clever puzzles, my favorite experiences with this game come from testing myself against the ones with the most nuance. They make the conversations, hostage meeples, and terror events really come alive. If you enjoy solo games, I would say that Hostage Negotiator is a must-have for your collection. It manages to be interesting and tense, play after play. And it also has the potential to provide you with an imaginative experience that takes you beyond solving a puzzle and immerses you in a high-stakes adventure. Since childhood, I have been mildly obsessed with Sherlock Holmes. I devoured the original Conan Doyle stories, and I've watched and rewatched Jeremy Brett's iconic performances as Holmes. When I heard about a game called Sherlock Holmes: Consulting Detective, I had to have it. Consulting Detective is not like most games. There is no game board, and there are no pieces to move or dice to roll. You have only a map, a directory, some copies of the Times, a case book, and your wits. Not only am I attracted to the prospect of a game that is all skill and no luck, but Consulting Detective also offers a relaxing hybrid of reading a book and playing a game. The introductory text and the statements and observations you can find in the casebook are very well written and highly atmospheric. Even random tidbits in the newspapers (I particularly enjoy the personal ads) add fun and flavor to the game. It is escapism at its finest. The premise of the game is that you are a Baker Street Irregular, and that Holmes is teaching you the detective's trade by having you cut your teeth on cases he has already solved. It is fun to imagine that your deductive skills are being honed by history's greatest detective, and even more fun to entertain fantasies of someday beating the master at his own game. Consulting Detective actually does encourage you to "beat" Holmes through ruthless efficiency—you can "win" if you solve the case using fewer leads than he does. I do not, however, recommend this method of playing the game. If you rush through the cases, you will inevitably miss a lot of the richness and joy that Consulting Detective can offer. In addition to finding information about the "main" case, you will run across sometimes hilarious side stories that lighten up the game and deepen the experience of playing it. Also, what is the point of all of those painstakingly written casebooks if nobody reads them? Seriously, if you get this game, take the time to really savor it. Don't rush through in an attempt to "win," because it will ultimately be less satisfying. There is one other very good reason to slow down when playing Consulting Detective, and that is the limited nature of a mystery game. There are only ten cases in the box, and you are eventually going to run out of them. Board Game Geek features some fan-made cases, and an expansion in English should be published soon, but ultimately, this game is finite. Don't waste it. The materials in the box are also finite—you get one map, one directory, one copy of each newspaper, etc. To maximize the fun of playing Consulting Detective, I recommend that you either play it alone or with a very small group of people. It might drag if too many people are trying to follow leads, read things for themselves, etc. I also have one major caveat. Although I adore this game and plan to finish playing every single case, Consulting Detective is not perfect. When it was first published in 1981, its original language was English. But the current reprint is actually re-translated from French. Some of the cases, especially Case 3, are affected by sloppy translations that lead to contradictory evidence and flubbed details. The game is not broken, and it's still fun to play, but if you get the game and notice something weird, you should check the unofficial errata at Board Game Geek for spoiler-free corrections. Overall, I highly recommend Consulting Detective and will be on the lookout for any expansions. I think my heart is going to break just a little bit when I finish the tenth and final case. This is an excellent gaming experience, particularly for soloists. When I dislike something that I don't have to do for work or medical reasons, I am usually able to avoid it. Unfortunately, this has not been the case with Steve Jackson's Munchkin. Munchkin in its original form is a game meant to poke fun at traditional pen-and-paper RPGs. It is also supposed to provide a gaming experience that allows players to battle monsters and loot their lifeless corpses for treasure without having to do any of that character building and role playing stuff. Since its publication in 2001, Munchkin has appeared in several different forms, and you can now play zombie, Cthulu, Marvel, and several other versions of the game. The object of Munchkin is to be the first player to reach level 10. Players may trade items, help each other out, or actively hinder each other in the race to the top. Typically what this means is that the game will drag when players begin to reach higher levels, because whoever is in the lead will be brought down by everybody else. This process is repeated until no one has any good cards left. Finally, someone will slip across the finish line unopposed, and the game is over. The first time I played Munchkin, it was relatively amusing—I was hanging out with friends, and the jokes on the cards were pretty funny. By the third time I played Munchkin, the jokes had gotten old, and the game had become excruciating. Even when I tried the Marvel version of Munchkin, I was quickly bored by the "new" cards and spent a lot of time waiting for someone to get to level 10 already so we could play something else. Despite my personal feelings, Munchkin is a game that will probably haunt me forever. This is because new gamers, especially my students, love it. LOVE IT. For teenage boys, the Leather Armor and Pukachu cards never seem to get old. And for people who are playing a non-traditional board game for the first time, Munchkin is accessible and undemanding. The jokes keep the game light, and the lack of deep strategy gives everyone a reasonable shot at victory. Because it is possible to team up with other players, a newbie who has drawn a bad hand can still receive help and useful items to make the experience more enjoyable. Unfortunately, when you are becoming acclimatized to tabletop gaming, it's also common to want to play safe and familiar games repeatedly before you are ready to move onto something else. This is where Munchkin becomes the bane of my existence. The occasional round of it is tolerable when it's been a while and when I'm with new players who will experience the jokes for the first time. It is decidedly intolerable when I get stuck playing it at game club for the third week in a row. All the same, I will continue to grit my teeth and be a good sport whenever Munchkin comes to the table. Gaming with a group means playing what the larger group wants to play, and I'm not going to rain on someone else's parade. I worry that hating on Munchkin and pushing other games too aggressively will drive enthusiastic neophytes away from the hobby. New players need to go at their own pace, and will move on if and when they are ready. Besides, if Munchkin is what eventually leads my friends and students down that slippery slope that ends in a multi-hour game of Eldritch Horror, I will consider my investment worthwhile. Until then, I am happy to game by myself! Castle Panic is a cooperative game in which you (and possibly some friends) work together to battle evil monsters who are trying to destroy your castle. Every turn, random monsters are drawn from a cup/bag. You use a die to determine where the monsters will be placed when they begin their assault. To battle the monsters, you deploy castle cards from your hand. You can discard or trade limited numbers of cards to battle the monsters more effectively. The Castle Panic base game has been a big hit at social gatherings, even for people who don't play games very often. According to the box, the game is for 1-6 players, but the last time I experienced it in a group, four couples got together and each couple controlled one hand of cards. Before long, we were high-fiving each other every time a monster bit the dust and collectively groaning when a roll of the die determined that we had to place ANOTHER troll in the blue zone. One of the friends I played with bought her own copy of the game to play with her parents, who also loved it. Castle Panic definitely has potential as a staple on family game night, or as a fun gateway game for new board gamers. Castle Panic is also finding a place in my life as a solo gamer. I love tower defense games, and Panic comes with a set of rules for solo players. Because it is a cooperative game, I can also play two-handed if I choose to, although I typically stick with the solo variant. The base game by itself, however, is not going to satisfy the dedicated soloist (or group of regulars who play together). Although Castle Panic offers some fun challenges, it can feel a little too simple once you are familiar with all of the monsters and castle cards. There are a few things you can do with the base game to make it more challenging: Draw Three Monsters Per Turn: This option puts more monsters on the board at once (you typically draw two per turn). The monster overload definitely increases the chances of you getting your butt kicked. Towers Only, No Walls: When you build your "castle" at the start of the game, you typically put up six towers and six walls. If you lose all of your towers, you lose the game. If you start with zero walls, the odds of this happening go up quite a bit... Allow Only One Discard Per Turn (Solo Only): In the solo game, you have no one to trade with. To compensate, you are allowed to discard up to two cards from your hand and draw replacements from the castle deck. Only allowing one discard leads to fewer options and tougher choices. The truth is, though, that Castle Panic will eventually need some variety, no matter how much you love the base game. Purchasing an expansion is essential for your continued gaming pleasure. Fortunately, Castle Panic has two expansions: The Wizard's Tower and The Dark Titan. So far, I have only played Wizard's Tower, although I own Dark Titan and will be testing it out in the near future. In my opinion, Wizard's Tower is a must buy. It takes the base game and turns it into something more challenging and also a lot more fun. The premise of the expansion is that a friendly wizard has agreed to help you, in exchange for getting his own fancy wizard tower. As long as his tower is standing, you can benefit from his powers. When you discard castle cards from your hand, you can choose to draw from the regular castle deck or from the wizard's deck. The wizard's deck arms you with powerful spells that you use to battle the powerful and interesting monsters that also come with the expansion. Plus, it's possible to set monsters on fire. Who doesn't enjoy setting monsters on fire? (Alas, it is also possible for your castle walls and towers to catch fire, but we won't worry about that right now...) Even though Wizard's Tower adds several new challenges and mechanics, including a boss monster with its own special movement patterns, the new rules blend seamlessly with the base game and they are very clearly explained. Actually, Castle Panic rulebooks in general are some of the clearest I have ever seen. It makes adding expansions a lot less intimidating, and it's easier and faster to get to the fun. Once you have played Wizard's Tower, the original version of Castle Panic will seem simple and a little dull—I will probably never play the base game on its own again, except for the purpose of introducing new players. I also have high hopes for Dark Titan, and I will be updating you about it once I get a chance to test it out! Although I do a lot of gaming--especially hardcore gaming--by myself, I also love playing with other people. Because I am a high school teacher, I play a lot of games with students. At first, when my students think of games, they usually think about Connect Four or Uno. A delightfully large number of them also love to play chess. But few of them have ventured off of the beaten path. One of the best "gateway games" I have discovered so far is Reiner Knizia's Ivanhoe. Ivanhoe is a card game in which players are knights competing in a tournament. The cards come in different colors, which represent different types of contests, from the lowly melee to the prestigious jousting match. The first player to win four types of contest (out of five) is victorious. Ivanhoe is a blast because while the premise is simple, the special cards and strategies enable more complicated maneuvering. Nothing is more satisfying than destroying all of someone's purple cards with "Break Lance," or preventing them from doing the same to you by putting down a well-timed "Ivanhoe." My students love the game so much that other teachers have overheard them arguing about who will win next time we play. Sometimes, students who have barely talked to me will suddenly open up over a round of Ivanhoe, and it changes my relationship with them forever. At the end of the semester, my classroom becomes a hub of activity for students who have already finished their finals and need something constructive to do. When that happens, Ivanhoe becomes the most in-demand game in my collection. I also have a soft spot in my heart for Ivanhoe because it was my high school gateway game. My European History/Model UN teacher had a copy and would let us break it out during downtime. It was the first game I ever really loved. Playing games in his class also exposed me to Axis & Allies, a more complicated strategy game. Although I took a hiatus from gaming during my college years, my experiences in high school primed me to fall in love with Settlers of Catan and Ticket to Ride when I first tried them at a grad student party. When my boyfriend tracked down Ivanhoe for me for Christmas, it was one of the best gifts he could have given me. Not only did I get to experience a rush of nostalgia as I unwrapped one of my favorite childhood games, but I've now had a chance to share Ivanhoe with a new generation of kids. Maybe, fifteen years from now, my own students will still remember playing Ivanhoe with me. Most of the games that I play solo are actually multiplayer games with a solo option. Friday, on the other hand, is explicitly designed for one player. As a quick game with a tiny footprint, it's a great choice for busy gamers. Work has kept me insanely busy since the new year, but it's easy to find time for Friday. The premise of the game is that you are Friday, and you live on the island where Robinson Crusoe is shipwrecked. In order to reclaim your old life—especially the peace and quiet you once cherished—you must help Robinson train to survive the island and eventually to escape it by battling two nasty pirates. Unfortunately, Robinson starts out as a complete idiot, and he has a long way to go before he is ready to make a break for it. Robinson's interactions with the island are represented by two card decks: the fighting deck and the hazard deck. Each turn, the player draws two cards from the hazard deck and chooses one for Robinson to confront. After selecting a hazard, the player draws the number of "free" cards indicated on the hazard card to see whether Robinson's fighting score is greater than or equal to the number on the card. If Robinson wins the fight, he also wins the hazard card, which then flips and becomes part of his fighting deck. If he loses the fight, he must pay the difference between his fighting score and the score demanded by the hazard card. Robinson can also use life points as a resource, spending one life in exchange for drawing one more card. If, however, you reach a point where you need to spend a life point but you don't have one, Robinson dies and the game is over. You'd think that losing would be a bad thing, but it's actually a necessary evil in Friday. When Robinson loses a fight, he "learns" from it, and you have the option of discarding undesirable cards from your deck—something that will help you win future encounters and build a strong deck for your ultimate battle with the pirates. Robinson will go through the hazard deck three times, at three levels of difficulty, and over time he must perfect his fighting/survival skills. At the end, he must battle his pirate nemeses. Of course, the game won't let you off that easy—Robinson does not just get to learn a bunch of awesome abilities and then waltz off of the island. Time is passing, and every time you have to reshuffle Robinson's fighting deck, you also have to add an aging card. And trust me, aging cards suck, especially if you cycle through your deck too many times. At the bottom of your aging deck are some "very old" cards that suggest Robinson might be getting a little too crotchety to return home. I have played Friday many times now, and I definitely don't win every time—or even most of the time. I am consistently impressed by how balanced the game is. Friday has four difficulty levels, which involve either adding aging cards to the game or removing them from it. But adding a single aging card to your fighting deck in the first round makes a huge difference to your chances of survival—testament to how delicately Friday has been constructed. Friday is an impressive game in a small package. Its challenging mechanics also make perfect thematic sense, given that it's a game about a guy trapped on an island. Every turn involves several strategic decisions that have consequences later in the game. The art is lighthearted and fun, which keeps me grinning even when the game presents brutal challenges. Even if you don't typically play solo, Friday is a great game to try. It is currently awaiting a reprint and is overly expensive, but I picked it up for $10 while it was on Amazon. I don't think it will be too long before Friday is readily available again. |
AuthorMy name is Liz Davidson, and I play solo board games. A lot of solo board games... Archives
August 2021
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