The Death of the Author in Game Narratives: Who Really Controls the Story?
- Alice Kent | amknarratives
- Mar 9
- 6 min read
Roland Barthes was a French essayist, writer, philosopher, social and literary critic. He was instrumental in contributing towards structuralist and semiotic schools of thought. One of Barthes' most famous essays, The Death of the Author (1968), argues that 'the birth of the reader must be requited by the death of the Author.' (Barthes, 1968) He observed that, as readers, we place too much value on the biographical, historical and cultural impressions that an author leaves upon their texts. Barthes saw this way of reading limited: assigning a text a fixed meaning based on the author's identity gives the text a definitive end, reducing it to something that can be consumed and replaced in the capitalist market. Instead, Barthes argued that it is the reader who gives meaning to a text, while the writer is merely a conduit for the story.
This way of thinking was radical and was met with some criticism. Seán Burke stated, 'Everywhere, under the auspices of its absence, the concept of the author remains powerfully active' (Burke, 1992). According to critics and their views on the role of the author, there appears to be a power struggle between the reader and the writer. Who shapes the text more: the reader or the writer? Who ultimately gives the text meaning: the reader or the writer? When considering modern storytelling mediums, such as games, these questions become even more relevant.
The Player as the Author
As games are such an interactive storytelling medium, it is impossible to deny that players have input into the meaning of their stories. Whether it is an open-world RPG or an arcade strategy game, there is always a story to be found, and that story is shaped by the player.
For example, on the surface, Asteroids (1979) is just a shooter game where the player aims to score as highly as possible by obliterating asteroids. However, when you look deeper and ask questions, a story begins to unfold. Why has the spacecraft entered an asteroid field? Who is on board? Why are the UFOs hostile? What technology allows the UFOs to traverse the asteroid field unharmed?
With every playthrough, the player begins to create the story. If all lives are lost quickly, the spacecraft crew might be unskilled at dodging and shooting asteroids — or perhaps they struggle to handle the spacecraft. Of course, we know this is due to the player's skill rather than the unseen crew, but even so, we as players (sometimes unknowingly) create this story to give our time playing the game meaning.
Linear, narrative-driven RPGs like Bramble: The Mountain King (2023) offer players a strong narrative and a clear path to follow. As Olle journeys through a nightmarishly uncanny realm filled with dark and troubling elements from Scandinavian folklore, players follow a defined path, guided by a narrator who gives meaning to Olle's quest. There is little player agency and no opportunity to affect the narrative during the game; however, the connection that players build with the protagonist adds a layer of meaning.
Controlling little Olle during his honourable quest to find his sister fosters a relationship between him and the player. It is the player who helps Olle overcome each boss. It is the player who strategises Olle's escape from a level. It is the player who notices the subtle changes in the environment. Although Dimfrost’s narrative designers and writers have created a beautifully horrific linear story with limited space for player agency, the gameplay and character design compel players to add their own meaning to the game and form their own interpretations of the events they have experienced. It is the player's lived experience that allows them to sympathise with Olle and root for his success, or is the development team's careful crafting of scenarios and characters that encourages players champion Olle?
Games with branching narratives, such as Fallen London (2009), are a perfect candidate for a Barthesian text. The branching narrative (or Fallen London's case its genre defining quality first narrative) constantly presents players with decision-making moments, where the consequences of their actions affect the narrative either immediately or later in the story. This allows every playthrough to generate a different meaning, offering players varied outcomes based on their choices.
It is in these narratives that the author feels most removed. All power is given to the player, and it is up to them to craft their character and choose their actions. This narrative system best suits Barthes death of the author argument, as the player is seeking out their own story which can change meaning with every playthrough. It is the player who plays out their desires and forges meaning that suits their needs.
To take the idea that the player is the author of game narratives even further, it is important to consider sandbox games like Minecraft (2009) and simulations like the Football Manager franchise (2005). These genres, and these games in particular, have no written narrative. Yes, Football Manager follows a structured timeline based on the football season, but it is up to the player how they fill that time. Whether managing an already successful Premier League team and maintaining that success or creating a squad of unknown rising stars, it is the player who has absolute control over their team’s success or failure, and therefore over the narrative that is generated based on the team's performance and journey.
It is the player who can choose to bench a footballer who has been vocal about their leadership or opt to aggressively address the team's poor performance at half-time by throwing a water bottle across the dressing room. These choices are reasoned and calculated, and with every decision, a new part of the story is built. Here, there is no need for an author — the role is handed directly to the player.
Do Game Narratives Challenge Barthes' Theory?
While it is easy to agree with Barthes' notion that the player shapes the meaning of game narratives, it is also important to recognise that, in most cases, every narrative eventuality has already been considered during the game's development. Whether during the narrative design and writing process, or QA testing or other creative development processes, the developer is always present in the background. They have crafted the game's universe, planted narrative seeds within the environment, and set limitations throughout the narrative.
It is short-sighted to assume that once a game is released, the author disappears. They have left parts of their soul within the game in the form of words, environments, and sounds — elements that can never be removed or erased. An example of this are easter eggs. Easter eggs are wonderful nods to popular culture that developers include to showcase their identity and influences. Assassin’s Creed Valhalla's (2020) side-quest 'The Prodigy' is one of my favourite Easter eggs. It perfectly blends popular culture with the game's universe. The author's voice is extremely clear during this quest while still adhering to the standards set by the world of Valhalla. Here the developers putting their influences on display and inviting the player to join them, giving power to the meaning that the author wishes to create.
Another reason why narrative designers cannot have their authorship removed is the balancing act they perform between crafting their game's story and integrating it with the game mechanics. When ludonarrative harmony is achieved, players may feel as though they have complete agency and free choice; however, they are subtly guided by the story, gameplay mechanics, and game systems. At this point, designers and writers retain power and control, shaping the player's interpretation of meaning.
A Useful Theory for Narrative Design?
Ultimately, while Barthes' theory offers valuable insights into the role of the reader in shaping a narrative, it doesn’t fully account for the unique interactive nature of games. In games, the player’s choices do matter, but they are still shaped within the boundaries set by the developer. Therefore, rather than the 'death of the author,' it might be more accurate to say that in game narratives, the author and player coexist, each playing a pivotal role in shaping the story. Game narratives create a symbiotic relationship as every good narrative designer always has the player at the forefront of all of their designs. The developer and player work work together to create meaning, removing any power struggle as they create a universe and experience together.
Cover image credit: Edward Hull, 'The Dance of Death: Death Finds an Author Writing His Life' (1827)
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