Do demons and devils have free will? Does justice exist inMenzoberranzan? What’s the morality involved with playercharacters casting necromancy and summoning spells? Dungeons & Dragons and Philosophy probes the richterrain of philosophically compelling concepts and ideas thatunderlie Dungeons & Dragons, the legendary fantasyrole-playing game that grew into a world-wide cultural phenomenon.A series of accessible essays reveals what the imaginary worlds ofD&D can teach us about ethics, morality, metaphysics andmore. Illustrates a wide variety of philosophical concepts and (...) ideasthat arise in Dungeons & Dragons gameplay and presentsthem in an accessible and entertaining manner Reveals how the strategies, tactics, improvisations, androle-play employed by D&D enthusiasts have startlingparallels in the real world of philosophy Explores a wide range of philosophical topics, including thenature of free will, the metaphysics of personal identity, themorality of crafting fictions, sex and gender issues in tabletopgameplay, and friendship and collaborative storytelling Provides gamers with deep philosophical insights that can leadto a richer appreciation of D&D and any gamingexperience. (shrink)

The so-called geek-culture becomes increasingly more mainstream, and its social and economic impact is growing. In contrast, there is very little quantitative psychological research on this subculture and the people immersed in it. The aim of this study was to investigate whether there are differences in the Big Five personality factors between Dungeons & Dragons players and non-players. Within a sample of 801 individuals – 399 Dungeons & Dragon players and 402 non-players - the results indicated that (...) Dungeons & Dragons players show statistically significant higher scores in extraversion as well as in openness to new experiences. Furthermore, we found a statistically significant correlation between Dungeons & Dragons players’ scores in extraversion and their character’s charisma. The results are in line with more recent findings from Big Five research in the geek-culture and contradict older findings regarding a low extraversion and high neuroticism of Dungeons & Dragon players. (shrink)

Do demons and devils have free will? Does justice exist in Menzoberranzan? What’s the morality involved with player characters casting necromancy and summoning spells? Dungeons & Dragons and Philosophy probes the rich terrain of philosophically compelling concepts and ideas that underlie Dungeons & Dragons, the legendary fantasy role–playing game that grew into a world–wide cultural phenomenon. A series of accessible essays reveals what the imaginary worlds of D&D can teach us about ethics, morality, metaphysics and more. (...) Illustrates a wide variety of philosophical concepts and ideas that arise in Dungeons & Dragons gameplay and presents them in an accessible and entertaining manner Reveals how the strategies, tactics, improvisations, and role–play employed by D&D enthusiasts have startling parallels in the real world of philosophy Explores a wide range of philosophical topics, including the nature of free will, the metaphysics of personal identity, the morality of crafting fictions, sex and gender issues in tabletop gameplay, and friendship and collaborative storytelling Provides gamers with deep philosophical insights that can lead to a richer appreciation of D&D and any gaming experience. (shrink)

Dungeons and Dragons and Philosophy presents twenty-one chapters by different writers, all D&D aficionados but with starkly different insights and points of view. The book is divided into three parts. The first, "Heroic Tier: The Ethical Dungeon-Crawler," explores what D&D has to teach us about ethics. Part II, "Paragon Tier: Planes of Existence," arouses a new sense of wonder about both the real world and the collaborative world game players create. The third part, "Epic Tier: Leveling Up," is (...) at the crossroads of philosophy and the exciting new field of Game Studies. (shrink)

Dungeons Dragons is full of great heroes and villains. The many worlds of the DD multiverse are overflowing with them – from heroes such as the twin‐scimitar‐wielding drow Drizzt Do'Urden and the self‐sacrificing knight Sturm Brightblade to villains such as the lord of Barovia, the vampire Count Strahd Von Zorovich, Vecna, the lich who rose to demi‐godhood, and countless others. However, there is one that stands above all others. It is the Master of Past and Present, Raistlin Majere. (...) This chapter is concerned with a seemingly simple question: who is Raistlin Majere? Of course, he is the brother of Caramon Majere. He is the wizard with golden skin and hourglass pupils. He is the Master of Past and Present. The chapter answers the question of what makes it true that it was a single person that accomplished all of the extraordinary feats that Raistlin did. (shrink)

Dungeons Dragons gamers exemplify Aristotle's claim that “no one would want to live without friends”. One might even see gaming as an attempt to find friends and build that political community of which Aristotle says friendship is the root. The really interesting thing about gamers is that, as they play Dungeons Dragons, they at one and the same time build bonds between their characters and between each other as players. The trajectory of these bonds often mirrors (...) the trajectory of friendships we find in epic fantasy literature where the characters, at first suspicious of each other, in the end have developed true friendships and established peaceful kingdoms where chaos had reigned before. Aristotle's philosophy of friendship can help us to understand this development. Dungeons Dragons players know a lot about friendship and the value of friendship in a person's life, despite the popular depiction of gamers. (shrink)

For some Dungeons Dragons (DD) players, the death of a beloved character, especially if that death isn't heroic, is like losing a dear friend. That might make some people squirm and worry about gamers. In DD, unlike video games, it typically takes years and years to advance a character to levels of significance. According to Socrates, the life of philosophy is a life of the mind. Or as he would likely put it, a life of the soul. Death, (...) according to Socrates, is “separation of the soul from the body”. This chapter talks about how the death of a PC can be an invitation to think about passion and detachment, and how the creation of a new PC can be an invitation to think about fairness and justice. Does playing DD really lend itself to thinking about such things? Of course! (shrink)

Dungeon Masters may or may not make use of familiar fantasy elements whose beginnings lay with Tolkien, but they must always put their players in a world. Dark Sun, Eberron, and the Planar City of Sigil little resemble the history, languages, lands, peoples, and places of Middle Earth, but they follow Tolkien's practice of creating a world in which all these elements are meant to fit together. The first part of fantasy is the human capacity to separate the qualities of (...) things from the things in which they appear, and to imagine them in other things that do not have them. Many Dungeons Dragons campaigns treat magic as a kind of alternate science, but in fairy tales there is more to it than that. Fantasy succeeds when it transports us to an imaginary land, and we escape the grayer parts of our own for a little while. (shrink)

The idea of role‐playing makes some people nervous – even some people who play role‐playing games (RPGs). So the idea of immersion is central to understanding how Dungeons Dragons and other aspects of participatory culture work. Phenomenology is a kind of “philosophy of mind” associated with the works of twentieth‐century philosophers Edmund Husserl, Martin Heidegger, Jean‐Paul Sartre, and Maurice Merleau‐Ponty, among others. The domain of phenomenology encompasses the entire range of experiences in the world, paying attention to what (...) Husserl called “intentionality,” or how our consciousness is directed toward particular objects in the world. The fact that this is presented as an atypical approach to play, or at least one that requires some effort, invites us to ask about typical modes of play if visualization of in‐game events is not that mode. This chapter concluded by scratch the surface of a complete phenomenological description of role‐playing. (shrink)

This paper examines two practices — the Roman Catholic Practice of Eucharist and the game Dungeons and Dragons — to show how social critique can be mounted from within a practice. It begins by relating Alasdair MacIntyre’s notion of tradition to his earlier analysis of ideology and to the notion of ideology in general. The paper then tackles two dominant forms of ideology — Commodity Fetishism and Scientism — and shows how both Eucharist and Dungeons and (...) class='Hi'>Dragons promote critical thinking to resist those ideologies. In the process, it denies the Althusserian-Foucauldian analysis of ideology as mere materiality and defends a conception of ideology as material and ideal. (shrink)

This chapter focuses on the archetypal image of the necromancer: the black‐robed creator and master of the undead. The necromancer is often depicted as a mere cackling villain, using her power over death to forward her evil agenda. In this way, necromancy has been philosophically maligned. Although necromancers were traditionally considered to be evil in Dungeons Dragons (DD), the game came to accommodate the idea that necromancers, in theory, could be neutral, or even good‐aligned, with their powers used (...) for the greater good. The distaste for necromancy and its mindless minions is instead a relic of “pre‐theoretical intuition” a common‐sense belief that may not hold up to philosophical scrutiny. Films and TV series depict the walking dead as ravenous, brain‐eating monstrosities. Next to such depictions, the relatively harmless nature of Dungeons Dragons’ mindless undead is easy to overlook. (shrink)

Imaginative pretend play is often thought of as the domain of young children, yet adults regularly engage in elaborated, fantastical, social-mediated pretend play. We describe imaginative play in adults via the term “pretensive shared reality;” Shared Pretensive Reality describes the ability of a group of individuals to employ a range of higher-order cognitive functions to explicitly and implicitly share representations of a bounded fictional reality in predictable and coherent ways, such that this constructed reality may be explored and invented/embellished with (...) shared intentionality in anad hocmanner. Pretensive Shared Reality facilitates multiple individual and social outcomes, including generating personal and group-level enjoyment or mirth, the creation or maintenance of social groups, or the safe exploration of individual self-concepts (such as alternative expression of a players sexual or gender identity). Importantly, Pretensive Shared Reality (both within the specific context of table-top role-playing games, and other instances) are primarily co-operative and co-creative. We draw on multiple examples, and focus on Table-Top Role Playing games (TTRPG) – and specifically, the most popular and enduring table-top role-playing games, Dungeons & Dragons (D&D) – as a primary example of such play. Our conception of “pretensive shared reality” links the widespread existence and forms of adult imaginative play to childhood pretense, places it within a developmental and evolutionary context, and argues that pretensive shared realities – which underpin many forms of imaginative culture – are an important topic of study unto themselves, and may be utilized to provide methodological insight into a variety of psychological domains. (shrink)

The fundamental conflict underlying the worlds of Dungeons Dragons is that between good and evil. Many philosophers have denied that there is any incompatibility between having free will and our actions being determined. Thorin Axebeard is nothing but a puppet controlled by Dwarven Culture and Psychology tables, dancing along to the dice. What makes the evil monsters of DD philosophically interesting is how obvious the connection often is between their evil behavior and factors entirely outside of their control.

What can Dungeons & Dragons teach us about the being of beings? This article argues that Dungeons & Dragons introduces us to a world composed of objects or entities, where the being of objects is defined not by their qualities, but rather by their powers, capacities or affects. Drawing on the thought of Spinoza, Deleuze and Molnar, objects are seen to be defined by what they can do or their capacities to act, such that qualities are (...) effects of these acts. Dungeons & Dragons is particularly suited to showing us this insofar as it focuses on the action of entities. (shrink)

This chapter begins with narration of episode 31 of Dungeons Dragons Part 2, where the player Chris Lovasz, or Sips, decides he is going to passive‐aggressively grief the rest of his party. In frustration, they methodically kill, threaten, and chase away any quest‐givers that approach them. The chapter looks at early adventure games based on DD, asking why they avoid many aspects of the game, especially those that involve role‐playing and moral decisions by players. It then discusses how (...) gamers now discover DD, and why this is important in changing their understanding of the game. The chapter addresses the question: why Pierre Levy's ideas about the digital age, virtual communities, and collective intelligence are so important for understanding how, and why this has happened. It concludes with discussion of the effects that this has on DD players. (shrink)

This chapter examines traditionalists’ arguments why Dungeons Dragons (DD) is good for us first, and then discusses the cases where it could be bad for us. The irony for Christian critics of DD, such as Schnoebelen, is that the philosophical and theological arguments of Christian traditionalists, such as Thomas Aquinas and J.R.R. Tolkien, provide some of the strongest arguments in favor of DD role‐playing. However, to be fair, these same arguments can be used to argue that a particular (...) DD game, under certain circumstances, can be bad. “Postmodernists” refers loosely to a group of philosophers and thinkers who question, if not outright reject, the core tenets of the traditionalists. If the traditionalists have the correct metaphysics about the real world, then it follows that DD is good, but that care must be taken to make sure the game does not become morally objectionable. (shrink)

This chapter talks about to my other self reflection and existentialism in dungeons dragons. The 3.5 Dungeon Master's Guide II sourcebook discusses player motivations such as these, recognizing that, for many, they are one of the main reasons to play DD. The actor plays a character that someone else has envisioned and written: a figment of someone else's imagination. The author's task looks at the other side of this coin: an author conceives of a world and characters, and (...) then sees how those characters will react to their circumstances. The very chapter owes its existence to one from whom the author learned that he had the capacity for courage and faith, to Lady Yui – to my other self. (shrink)

The deeply imaginative structure of Dungeons Dragons (DD) can allow for players to explore the intricacies of gender and sexuality in creative and potentially radical ways. One would be hard pressed to argue that cartoonishly large breasts and skin‐tight leather skirts really allow for dexterous swordplay or quick getaways. DD liberates us from the limitations of our sex by making male and female characters equal in terms of abilities. The shyest of men can be the most outspoken of (...) wizards, the most honest girl can play the most unscrupulous rogue, and the pacifist woman can don full armor and fly into a berserker rage on a group of bugbears ambushing her adventuring party because, after all, bugbears are her species enemy and she just can't help herself when they are around. (shrink)

This chapter clarifies important component of alignment in character creation and development. It demonstrates an application of moral philosophy and introduces ethical dilemmas that allow players to make meaningful moral choices leads to a more rewarding gaming experience. The chapter highlights philosophy's most enduring and frustrating questions. According to Dungeons Dragons (DD), the alignment is an element of the player's character sheet that clarifies their worldview and moral outlook. It is also a category that can limit character class (...) and an aura that allows spells or abilities to detect a character's moral outlook – and if necessary “smite” that evil (or good) into oblivion. The DD attracts imaginative players. A party is likely be filled with virtuous paragons, nefarious knaves, and pragmatists. (shrink)

The skill of calling animals to fight brings up unique ethical questions. Mages usually interact with animals in two ways: First, the author can summon animals by using animal‐summoning or monster‐summoning spells. Second, a mage can summon animals to be familiar. A familiar was once a normal animal that has been transformed into magical beast with unique powers and abilities. Bats, cats, hawks, and rats are examples of common familiar companions. The rights ethicist Tom Regan argues that animals have particular (...) rights because they are subjects of a life, meaning that they seek to satisfy specific preferences and interests. As Lord Acton wrote, “Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” It appears that this also holds in Dungeons Dragons (DD). Thus, when playing a character who can summon nonhuman animals, it may be wise to take the ethics into account when deciding what actions are best. (shrink)

There are many commonalities between the framework of roleplaying games such as Dungeons & Dragons and the way in which we design classes and assignments. The professor (the dungeon master) selects a number of readings with some end goal in mind (the campaign). Along the way the students are expected to be active participants (roleplay) and the professor designs progressively harder assignments (quests) in order to test the students’ abilities and to promote learning and growth (leveling up). This (...) structural analogy prompted me to investigate how such a framework could be implemented more explicitly in a class, and in this chapter I describe how I did so. (shrink)

How do we prepare engineering students to make ethical and responsible decisions in their professional work? This paper presents an approach that enhances engineering students’ engagement with ethical reasoning by simulating decision-making in a complex scenario. The approach has two principal inspirations. The first is Anthony Weston’s scenario-based teaching. Weston’s concept of a scenario is a situation that changes in response to choices made by participants, according to an inner logic. Scenarios can dynamically explore open-ended complex problems without imposing predetermined (...) results, allowing students to apply their ethical reasoning in a more realistic fashion. The second inspiration is Thi Nguyen’s theory of games. According to Nguyen, games are the “art of agency,” meaning that they provide a structure under which some result is agreed to be valuable, along with prescribed ways of achieving that result, in a relatively low-stakes and temporary social arrangement. By playing many games, Nguyen argues, we can develop a “library of agency,” that is to say, a set of values and means to achieving them that can inform how we make high-stakes decisions in real life. Engaging with carefully designed game scenarios, then, can enable students to practice making ethical decisions within a structured framework, which unfolds in response to their choices, while their decisions are driven by some defined goal. This roleplaying game–based approach thus allows students to build their own ethical libraries of agency, in preparation for professional decision-making. The approach is illustrated using a specific example recently deployed in a seminar on engineered living materials (building materials that incorporate living tissues). The scenario uses techniques from tabletop roleplaying games (e.g. Dungeons & Dragons) for outcome resolution, adventure design, and character creation. Through the game, students practice making difficult decisions in a humanitarian context. (shrink)

It is widely agreed that play and games contribute to the good life. One might naturally wonder how games in particular so contribute? Granted, games can be very good, what exactly is so good about them when they are good? Although a natural starting point, this question is perhaps naive. Games come in all shapes and sizes, and different games are often good in very different ways. Chess, Bridge, Bingo, Chutes and Ladders, Football, Spin the Bottle, Dungeons & (...) class='Hi'>Dragons, Pac-Man, Minecraft and Charades are all games, and can all contribute to a good life, but each will characteristically enrich someone’s life in its own distinctive way. Some games facilitate socializing and sociability, other games improve physical fitness, some develop a sense of fair play and reciprocity, while others enhance concentration and analytic skills. Asking ‘what is good about games?’ and assuming a simple answer is as naïve as asking ‘what is good about fiction?’ or ‘what is good about sex?’ However, a less naïve question and philosophically interesting question is not hard to formulate. Plausibly, much of the heterogeneity of the value of games stems from the different kinds of instrumental value of different games. Perhaps we should therefore ask in what ways the activity of playing games is characteristically good for its own sake. Unfortunately, the philosophical literature on the non-instrumental value of playing games is sparse. One of the few sustained treatments of the topic can be found in an underappreciated exchange between Thomas Hurka and John Tasioulas. Interestingly, despite taking different views of what it is to play a game, they both make room for the non-instrumental value of play and achievement in game play and they both argue that these two goods stand in important an important explanatory relation. However, they take diametrically opposed views as to which of these good is more basic. Roughly, on Hurka’s view, the good of achievement is more basic, and it is because of the non-instrumental value of achievement that what Hurka calls “playing in a game,” which involves playing, is itself non-instrumentally good because of the non-instrumental value of achievement. The idea is that if something is non-instrumentally good then loving that thing is also non-instrumentally good, and that playing in a game involves loving the activity for its own sake. In this way, the value of achievement in a game grounds the value of playing in a game. Tasioulas takes exactly the opposite approach. He argues that there must be something independently good about playing a game which grounds the value of achievement in that game. On his view, the typical grounding good or “framing value” of games is play itself – what I am here calling “playing.” In this essay, I raise some objections to both Hurka’s view and Tasioulas’s view and develop a positive alternative conception of the non-instrumental value of games. I argue that while each view is insightful in its own way, neither gets things exactly right. For a start, the way in which they characterize the key concepts is problematic. Hurka’s definition of ‘play a game’, which he lifts from Suits, is problematic, while both of their characterizations of play are problematic for reasons I rehearse here. They also take an unduly narrow view of the possible role of achievement in game play, both effectively conflating achievement with “excellence.” I argue, by contrast, that there is an important sense in which even someone who is not very good at the game by any objective standard can still reap the goods of achievements in games. At the same time, those who play games typically do not do so for the sake of achievements as such, though they may do something which is in a sense tantamount to this, or so I shall argue. Finally, I argue that neither Hurka’s “achievement first” order of explanation nor Tasioulas’s “play first” order of explanation is fully correct. I argue for what I call a “variable priority” view. On this view, the value of play sometimes grounds the value of achievement in a game, while in other cases the independently grounded value of achievement in a game provides a further ground for the value of play, though even in that case play is independently good for its own sake. I begin by laying out Hurka’s and Tasioulas’s views. (shrink)

Theology, Fantasy, and the Imagination analyzes theological, religious, and philosophical themes in classical Christian fantasy, contemporary “post-Christian” fantasy, and fantasy at play in table top games such as Dungeons and Dragons and Magic: the Gathering.

Massively multiplayer online games are not merely electronic communication systems based on computational databases, but also include artificial intelligence that possesses complex, dynamic structure. Each visible action taken by a component of the multi-agent system appears simple, but is supported by vastly more sophisticated invisible processes. A rough outline of the typical hierarchy has four levels: interaction between two individuals, each either human or artificial, conflict between teams of agents who cooperate with fellow team members, enduring social-cultural groups that seek (...) to accomplish shared goals, and large-scale cultural traditions, often separated into virtual geographic regions. In many MMOs, both magic and religion are represented, in ways that harmonize with a social-scientific theory that defines them in terms of specific versus general psychological compensators. This article draws empirical examples from five diverse MMOs: Dark Age of Camelot, Dungeons and Dragons Online, World of Warcraft, A Tale in the Desert and Gods and Heroes. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:What is Fantasy?Brian Laetz and Joshua J. JohnstonWizards, elves, dragons, and trolls—this is certainly the stuff of fantasy, populating the fictions of such giants as Tolkien, no less than the juvenilia of many aspiring writers. However, it is much easier to identify typical elements of fantasy, than it is to understand the category of fantasy itself. There can be little doubt that, in practice, the genre is pretty (...) well defined, concretely manifesting itself in the shelves reserved for it in video shops and bookstores. But stating why a work belongs on these shelves, rather than those in the near vicinity, such as horror and science fiction, or those more remote, like plain old fiction, presents a real challenge. Certainly, a mere few feet could separate fantasy from the other shelves, but the conceptual distance those feet represent appears great indeed. What, if anything, distinguishes this genre from other categories of mass art. In other words, what is fantasy?To begin, fantasy is a transmedia genre, since there are fantasy novels and movies, for instance, as is illustrated by J. R. R. Tolkien's Lord of the Rings saga and its recent cinematic adaptation. It is interesting to note that fantasy includes works from other media as well, such as paintings, which often accompany fantasy narratives, like Frank Frazetta's recognizable illustrations for Robert E. Howard's Conan the Barbarian stories. Forms of entertainment are also affiliated with the genre, such as role-playing games, like Dungeons and Dragons, though one might balk at considering such things even forms of mass art? Nonetheless, despite the variety of media and entertainments associated with fantasy, [End Page 161] narratives occupy a fundamental place within the genre. For paintings, drawings, and the like are only recognizably fantastic given some narrative background that tells us what wizards, trolls, and dragons look like.1 Plausibly, it is what allows us to see that a drawing depicts an elf, for example, rather than a child with odd pointy ears. Thus, even if some works of fantasy are, strictly speaking, non-narrative, fantastic narratives remain fundamental, since these other works would not be classified as fantasy without them. This warrants initially setting aside things like fantasy games and paintings to focus on narratives. What, precisely, makes a narrative fantastic?First, fantastic narratives are essentially fictional. For regardless of how one ultimately understands the nature of fiction, the notion of true fantasy seems patently incoherent, quite unlike, say, true crime. And it must be stressed that this point should be compatible with any theory of fiction. Second, the sort of things that can make a work fantastic, like wizards and dragons, must be prominent in the work—they cannot be minor details. For example, had there been a two-minute scene in Spartacus in which someone cast a spell, the scene would have been fantastic, but ultimately the movie would not be classified any differently; you would still find it on the drama shelf. Moreover, this condition is not peculiar to fantasy.2 For instance, no one who has suffered through a Steven Seagal film would seriously classify it as romance or even action-romance, simply because it has a minor romantic subplot. Fantasy is no different from any other genre in this regard: whatever features define a genre must be prominent in a work in order for it to belong to the relevant genre. Third, the sort of content that can make a work fantastic must not solely be viewed as symbols for things that are not fantastic. In other words, these elements cannot just be taken as allegorical.3 This alone would seem to disqualify George Orwell's Animal Farm from the genre, since most read the intelligent animals as merely symbols portraying various factions in communist Russia. It should be noted that the actual intentions of the author probably matter little here. For example, even if scholars discovered that Tolkien merely intended the Middle Earth saga as an elaborate allegory, it would remain fantasy; few would be tempted to move the books to another shelf. Fourth, the relevant content must not solely be mocked or lampooned within the work.4 This is necessary... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Fantasy: How It Works by Brian AtteberyAna Tejero-MarínBrian Attebery. Fantasy: How It Works. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2022. 208 pp., hardcover, $29.99. ISBN 9780192856234.Fantasy is a literary genre often associated with the unreal. As it deals with imaginary worlds or magical feats, its tools and strategies for making meaning differ from those of realist literature. In the past, this has sometimes led to misunderstandings about the merits of (...) fantasy and to its dismissal as escapist literature. Fantasy has also been seen as the reactionary reverse of science fiction, as a genre that looks into a mythical past with reverence and longing and that perpetuates unjust systems of oppression. [End Page 260]Brian Attebery sets out to respond to these old conceptions of fantasy in Fantasy: How It Works. As a scholar who has devoted most of his long career to advocate for the value of fantasy literature, most notably in his 1992 study Strategies of Fantasy, Attebery has witnessed the transformation of the genre from an academic outcast into a subject that is considered worthy of systematic research. He further acknowledges that the current vitality of the conversations concerning fantasy literature cannot be solely attributed to academia but also derives from the pervasiveness of fantasy in contemporary culture, which extends the discourse from "classrooms to coffee shops to basements where a lively game of Dungeons and Dragons has been going on for years" (7). Fantasy is a genre that attracts devoted fans and practitioners, and their passion is the driving force behind Attebery's work: "When I write about fantasy, I know I am making claims about something people care about and something about which my listeners might have exhaustive knowledge. If those people matter, then fantasy matters" (7).Contrary to earlier theorists in the field, like Tzvetan Todorov, Kathryn Hume or Rosemary Jackson, Attebery does not intend to provide a definition or a classification of fantasy, since genres are mutable and constantly evolving, he asserts. His main objective is to explore two questions instead: "how does fantasy mean?" and "what does fantasy do?" (1). Each chapter engages with these questions by examining a distinct facet of fantastic storytelling or worldbuilding. According to Attebery, storytelling and worldbuilding cannot be separated when it comes to fantasy, for "fantasy creates story-worlds: narrated spaces in which causality and character and consequence are inextricably entwined" (1). The introduction then explains the method that Attebery follows in the subsequent chapters: "I'll notice a loose thread in the fabric of literature, start tugging at it, see where the seams come apart, and ask what that tells us about the original garment. If I'm lucky, some sort of thesis emerges along the way" (4–5). As he himself admits, this method implies that many thoughts arise and circulate in each of the chapters and, usually, no central thesis follows, which "doesn't make it easy to extract the core ideas for application elsewhere" (5). However, he believes that this process of uncovering latent meanings of fantasy, instead of arriving at a solid conclusion, is the most interesting part of his work. The analyses of contemporary fantasy novels complement the ideas that he brings forward, and in many cases they become the backbone that sustains his theses.Chapter 1, "How Fantasy Means: The Shape of Truth," delineates the development of the first half of the book. Attebery asserts that "fantasy is the lie that speaks truth" (9), and it does so in three different ways: mythically, metaphorically, [End Page 261] and structurally. Although the chapter mainly focuses on this last dimension, all three of them are connected. Attebery claims that, structurally, fantasy "represents the shape of the world" (12); fantasy can reflect the underlying structures of society because it is able to ignore mimesis. Fantasy worlds can be read as models of how the world functions, filtered and reorganized through the fantastical. To be sure, the spaces that realist literature presents are also constructed, ordering the world in ways that render the story legible to its readers; the difference lies in how the two genres are conceived and understood. This relationship between fantasy and realism is further... (shrink)

Menzoberranzan is the primary setting of R.A. Salvatore's Homeland in the Dark Elf trilogy and home of the evil race of dark elves known as drow. Plato's Republic features characters at a feast discussing the topic of justice. Glaucon, one of the conversation partners, decides to play devil's advocate, putting forth the idea that justice is one of those pesky things we have to deal with to live in a peaceful society, arguing that if there were a way around it, (...) no one would be just or moral. The trouble with flat‐out calling Menzoberranzan the most unjust state imaginable is that it has some qualities befitting a just state. In addition to justice, Socrates calls for the ideal state and its citizens to embody the virtues of temperance, wisdom, and courage. (shrink)

As it turns out, accounting for the mechanics of willful wrongdoing has been a major problem for ethics from the beginning, and it has led to some very strange theories. Socrates and Plato simply deny the possibility. What does this mean for DungeonsDragons (DD)? First of all, it means that nobody chooses evil for the sake of evil, what some people call diabolic evil. The primary sources of evil are indifference and self‐deception. Both lead me to a life of convention, (...) simply living up to the code of conduct given by society. It is much more comfortable to think of evil as something done by villains in movies. There is something rather disturbing about the thought that one can become evil gradually. Because of the influence of bad habits, much about the moral life feels grey and fuzzy. (shrink)