Can Video Games be Art? (Part Two: Morrowind)

Last week, I addressed the question "Can Video Games be Art" by taking a look at the game BioShock. This week, we'll be traveling a few years backward in time to take a look at the third game in the Elder Scrolls series, Morrowind. A swashbuckling adventure through the weird wilderness of Vvardenfell, this role-playing-game charmed the hearts and minds of many gamers when it was released in 2002. Today, its graphics seem dated, its character-building system bloated, and its action slow and tedious. In order to appreciate it as a work of art, I will ask you to step away from the judgments you would make in 2011, or even in 2007, the year BioShock was released. This is certainly not The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim nor is it BioShock; but I believe it still stands on its own as a work of high artistry. In future articles I will absolutely review Skyrim; but to understand what Skyrim is missing, it is imperative we take a look at Morrowind. But first, before we journey further into discussion of this brilliant video game, I'd like to point out some other places where the topic of "Video Games as Art" has been discussed.

Just try googling "Can Video Games be Art?" While my hubs aren't there yet (one day, Google!) there are a lot of great articles I'd recommend in a heartbeat. At the top, Newscientist.com has a mind-blowing feature called "CultureLab" where they discuss the intersection between arts and sciences, and their treatment of this question hinges on answers from artists, historians, and game developers. If it's an appeal to ethos that you're looking for, give it a read. I found it highly enlightening. For a more philosophical approach, check out this article by Grant Tavinor, written for the gaming website Kotaku. While it's a little heavy on this philosophical language, you may find it more convincing. For the record, I took a number of philosophy classes in college, and don't necessarily have a great opinion of the field as a whole; but Tavinor's article (while a bit on the long side) is a relatively easy and interesting read. I also provide a link to his book at the right.

Imagine wandering through a swamp populated by giant mushrooms, pools of murky green water, and tiny islands connected by rotting wooden boards. In the distance, little huts sit by the water, connected by boardwalks; it's a fishing village is hidden behind towering trees. As the player walks toward this settlement, they pass by glowing turquoise fungi and white-blue flowers. This is the same game where, in a different location on the island of Vvardenfell, the player can find themselves beset by storms of red dust as they climb desolate rocky mountains. Features of the landscape include grey vines with large thorns, steam vents, and pools of lava. There is something charming about these environments. Morrowind's art direction, led by Matthew Carofano and his team, isn't just there to be convincing for sake of the game; it's there to instill a sense of novelty. This is a new world that has never been seen before. It borrows elements of our own, but is truly an original creation. No other game has made me feel that I'm in a universe where nature follows different rules than our own, including The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim.

As a side note, for those of you who still can't stand Morrowind's graphics, there's a quick solution. While it's a hefty download, the Morrowind Overhaul by Kingpix makes the game look and feel more contemporary. This is a compilation of game mods I highly recommend to anybody looking to improve their visual experience of Morrowind. There are also alterations to sound and gameplay, but it's possible to choose only graphical improvements - whatever pleases your fancy.

Morrowind's sound direction is also worth mentioning. Thanks to Jason Ruddy, who managed this game's sound effects, you can hear the wind in your ears, your own footsteps as you walk, and the whale-like moaning of giant insects called silt striders which the player can use for travel. Lava pools bubble, steam vents hiss, and magical spells sound like they're ripping the air as they travel toward your enemies. If you delve into one of Morrowind's many hand-designed dungeons, you can hear the whistling of giant crystal formations, the clanking of ancient steam-driven machinery, and the whispers of dead souls. By themselves, the whispering of the ancestors featured in Morrowind's crypt-type dungeons are quite an achievement. If I were to imagine what it might be like to communicate with ghosts, this is what it would sound like.

Of course, I can't end this section of the article without mentioning the original music by Jeremy Soule. Aside from being one of my favorite composers for his skill at setting mood and his textural sensitivity, the Morrowind soundtrack is one of his most lauded works. If you're a gamer, the chances are slim that you haven't heard the opening theme to Morrowind, later re-envisioned for subsequent Elder Scrolls games. Even my family found themselves humming along to the music of Morrowind. When I mentioned I was writing this article to my mother, who is a piano teacher, she remarked: "I remember when you used to play that game. It had really good music!" If you're interested in hearing Morrowind's theme, check out the YouTube video I have posted above.

I'm a sucker for complex, well-envisioned parallel universes. This is one of the things that people find enticing about certain books and movies, such as Star Wars, Harry Potter, and the Discworld novels by Terry Pratchett. As you might have guessed, The Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind is built upon the lore, the characters, and the events of previous games in the series. The game's writers had already developed a library's worth of books for the first two games, and the release of Morrowind greatly expanded their number. One of the hallmark features of the Elder Scrolls series has been the amount of books lying around, whether in people's houses, libraries and temples, or in dungeons and ruins. Along with character dialogues and the events of the main quest, Morrowind's massive amounts of written material don't just offer the player a story, but a history. Even though the events of the game take place on the relatively small island of Vvardenfell during the period of a few months at most, the player can get a sense of the larger world and timeline.

The main quest itself is intellectually compelling, and offers the player a chance to be a part of the Elder Scrolls history. Because Morrowind is an open-ended game, the player doesn't need to pursue the main quest in order to play. But to appreciate the game as a work of art, the main quest is an indispensable part of the experience. Written by Ken Rolston, it is mysterious, complex, and intriguing. The basic plot features the rise of a cult called the Sixth House, led by a powerful magician/divine being named Dagoth Ur. Dagoth Ur represents a great threat to the world of Morrowind because he is attempting to gain divine power from the remains of a "dead" God named Lorkhan. The player, upon direction of a political force called The Blades, has to take the role of the Nerevarine, an incarnate messiah who is supposed to defeat Dagoth Ur. For some perspective on Ken Rolston's writing, read this interview with Douglas Goodall, another one of the game's writers.

What was most fascinating, to me, is how the main quest provides commentary about religion and its interactions with politics. At least one major character, the sorcerer-god Vivec (who acts as the figurehead of Vvardenfell) is both a political and religious figure. He has to mediate between the occupying political faction, the Empire, and the original political structures that exist in Morrowind. Because the Empire is the major political power in the universe of Morrowind, Vivec bans worship of the Nerevarine, which conflicts with Imperial religious doctrines. This simultaneously serves him, as well, because he can consolidate the faith of Vvardenfell's indigineous people.

In the Elder Scrolls III, divinity and politics have no clear-cut boundaries. I believe this reflects what actually occurs in our world. The story of Jesus is rife with political references! For example, the King Herod wishes to kill the infant Jesus because he could be a threat to Herod's political power. Or, if you're inclined to see it this way, the three Kings, whom I would say are political figures, come to visit and worship the infant Jesus. The presence of a messiah in ancient Judea causes great political waves! It's interesting to see how a messianic story plays out with similar effects in the world of Morrowind. This is one of the many reasons I consider The Elder Scrolls III to be a work of art: it forces the player to confront a universe that reflects the discrepancies of our own.

Whew... after dealing with all that heady academic interpretation of Morrowind, let's get back to the gameplay. It is, of course, a role playing game. The player has attributes and skills that they can improve. They can use a host of weapons and magical spells, and equip armor and magical items such as rings, amulets, and potions. They can go on quests, fight monsters and bandits, and explore the world. So far, so good. But it's not just any old Ultima, Neverwinter Nights, or Final Fantasy. What set Morrowind apart from other games in its genre during its release year of 2002 was its scope. Being an open-ended world, the player had an entire island to explore, with cities, villages, fortresses, meadows, swamps, deserts, mountains, rivers, caves, crypts, mines, and ruins.

Previous Elder Scrolls games also featured open worlds, but much of their content was randomly generated. Morrowind, on the other hand, is crafted in detail by a skilled team of programmers, writers, and designers. No other game has even come close to approaching this level of detail. In its own way, Morrowind recalls the aesthetics of baroque ornamentation, with its highly detailed character system, hand-crafted world, and complex story. Perhaps, in 2011, the age of consoles such as the Xbox 360 and Playstation 3, we are seeking an ideal of relative simplicity in our video games. But in 2002, this complexity had our mouths watering, and I insist that it still has its merits.

If you've read last week's article about BioShock, you know already that I'm not interested in proving that video games can be art as a whole, but rather convincing you that certain individual video games have reached this status. If this article hasn't piqued your interest in the Elder Scrolls III, by all means, check out some of these screenshots from Moby Games, check out some gameplay videos on YouTube, or buy a copy of the game (a link is provided earlier on in this Hub). If nothing else, I hope my post-collegiate stabs at critical analysis give you a sense of this game's greater depth. And of course, stop by next week, when I'll be covering another favorite game of mine: Half-Life 2.