The strategic thinking of a chess grandmaster, the steely nerves of a professional poker player, the concentration of a pinball champ, the competitive edge of an experienced Scrabble player, the repetitive relaxation of solitaire…The games people choose to play—from family favorites like Monopoly to teen party social shortcuts like Twister; the games people choose to avoid, excel at, or lose with or without grace—often become shortcuts for describing characters in fiction.
Let me say upfront that I’m not that great at classic games. My mom was fabulous and my dad not so much. I think I inherited his quick frustration with memorizing rules. This doesn’t stop me from trying, nor did it stop Dad. Having been warned not to jeopardize their marriage by taking up Bridge as newlyweds, they began learning it after they’d been married for more than 50 years. Their pattern held with Mom picking it up quickly and Dad lagging behind. He was great at other things—including crossword puzzles.
I tried Ma Jong. It was fun and confusing, but to get anywhere I’d have to invest a great deal of time doing it and I’d rather be writing, reading, dancing…. My relative disinterest in games, and sports played as social games, would be a ‘character tell’ helping to explain me. While my mother’s interest and willingness to invest time in learning Bridge when she was over 80, says a great deal about her.
On subways, I see people playing Candy Crush and other games on their phones and I don’t get it. I open my Kindle and read, or just daydream. I take note of the chess hustlers (yes they play timed games for money) in the parks near my home, and I’m always curious when a friend talks with fondness of their Dungeon & Dragon nights in university dorm rooms; or shares stories about gambling trips to Vegas or Atlantic City. I admit to a brief flirtation with D & D and to playing penny Poker when I was 21, but to me the games were social lubricants and not of interest outside spending time with friends.
Again, the game is the clue to a character. Chess and Backgammon seem to be the games of choice in spy novels and suspense thrillers, providing metaphors for strategy and luck. Good Poker players read each other as much as they monitor the cards, observing micro expressions that reveal a hand. This makes Poker the game of detectives and mobsters alike. Mixed Doubles Tennis Tournaments say a great deal about the couple that plays together. The CEO with a black belt in Tae Kwon Do is not compatible with the executive playing pick-up basketball at the gym. Different games for different characters!
The games characters play…
lol – a post after my own heart! And I agree, the games characters play, and why they play one game rather than another, offer key insights into the characters themselves.
I never saw myself as a ‘player of games’ because I wasn’t into sports as a kid. I have to admit that I have always loved Scrabble though so maybe that was a clue that I didn’t see. 🙂
People often assume that writers play Scrabble, but I’m a terrible speller. I’d even say NOTORIOUS. Years ago a friend gave me a mis-spellers dictionary. Pre-Internet “search engine” for bad spellers. LOL… When I was a child——during the serious suburban cocktail era——my parents were invited to a dinner party hosted by the parents of a school friend of mine. They were Christian Scientists (no booze) and they liked to play games at parties. My father told really funny stories about that party, largely because he turned out to be exceptionally good at a game called “dictionary” in which players had to sell their made-up definitions of words they didn’t (and couldn’t possibly) know to the other players. He used his skills as a writer and his experience selling ideas in advertising to the party guests. They thought he was a genius. We often like/choose games that match our nature and skill sets. Unless we’re interested in climbing Mt. Everest——which is sort of what I was doing when I tried to learn Mah Jong.
I’m fascinated by the way Chess and Poker are often used as shortcuts for characterization. I’ve been wondering about Pictionary. I haven’t played——or seen——it in years, but I think I might have it in the way, way, back of the closet. Now that was a silly/fun game. I wonder what it says about me that I recall it fondly, but don’t seek it out?