Childhood's End

My daughter sits at the edge of the pool. She's grown more shy in the last year. She no longer holds herself with the unshakeable confidence of an indestructible five-year-old. She's far from alone. She's surrounded by kids her age, and she occasionally chats up a neighboring girl. But mostly she's not alone because she's brought her imagination with her. She's holding an elaborate conversation with the handful of fairies who follow her everywhere.

Her belief in fairies remains unshakeable, even when her own self-confidence fails. While her certainty of Santa Claus' improbably buffoonish belly and beard was wavering this year, and her belief in God is ever evolving but mixed with wonder and skepticism that will carry her the rest of her life, fairies simply are. It's impossible for her to imagine a world in which fairies aren't real.

Oh that this were me.

Some of her surety comes from living in the woods. Every day she is surrounded by incontrovertible evidence: the mole-tracks under the surface of the snow, the mysterious overnight appearance of eight-inch-tall toadstools, the dew hanging off the pine needles, the tiny dents on the surface of crusted snow. She will admit that her fairies (whose names have evolved since Disney got into the fairy business) are pretend. But she has no difficulty reconciling her pretend fairies with the very real ones around her. After all, she pretends to be a pioneer girl all the time, and they were real.

Children are -- at least for a while -- unselfconsciously imaginative. They're born able to hold two contradictory thoughts in their head at the same time. Both real and pretend. Both happy and sad. Both tired and manic.

It was with some surprise during our trip here to the happiest place on earth that she evidenced no fear of the rides. On entrance to the Magic Kingdom, she ran like a recently restrained cheetah towards Space Mountain, that rocket-in-the-dark that represented the height of 1970s terror. It's dark, it's loud, it's violent, and for a timid 7-year-old girl, one would think terrifying. Later in the week, every thrill ride and roller coaster already conquered, we approached Frozen Walt's latest opus, "Everest." This insanely-great spectacle sends riders in search of the (animatronic) Yeti, deep in the heart of ersatz Tibet. It's easily the best roller coaster I've ever been on, and it has more theme and feel than any movie-ride I've been on as well. It tells a brief, violent, and completely believable tale, written in perfect styrene sculpture, light, sound and motion.

She rode it with her eyes shut. Except the parts where she could tell we were in the dark. I, on the other hand, wanted to ride it again to see the story that's told in the 90 seconds of insanity.

Her imagination needs no stimulus. In fact, it's rebelling against it.

Increasingly, my imagination needs more. Until recently, books were my preferred form of imaginative play. I'd take the words from the page and paint the pictures in my head. I can tell you exactly what Frodo and Rincewind look like, and it has nothing to do with illustrations or movies. I played Dungeons and Dragons with nothing but pen, paper, and dice. Where friends drew pictures of their characters in adolescent scribbles, I left my character sheets pure and abstract.

But as I get older, busier, and my time to focus on myself becomes compressed and shorter, I need immersion. I need someone to take the decisions of imagination -- what color is Doc Savage's hair, how tall is Podkayne -- and simply feed them too me.

About 4 months ago I stopped watching most TV. Some of this was driven by a tide of work drowning my evenings, but mostly, I had grown numb to the endless parade of violence and adrenaline from crime-TV, even most non-crime-TV. It wasn't that I was morally repulsed, far from it. I was simply no longer getting that minor thrill from watching other people's imaginary lives. I needed to get closer to the bone. Even my interest in movies and those few TV shows that do grab my attention has waned.

Instead I play more games. It's a paradox I can't quite get my head around. On the one hand, with my hands on a controller, a keyboard, or a plastic pyramid or a chess piece, I am more involved; more is required of me. It is far from a passive experience. But on the other hand the rules, the structure, and the story are more intense and controlling than they are when reading a book or watching a movie. Perhaps it's the illusion of freedom that actually makes the force-fed imagination that much more palatable.

Usually my gaming leanings have tended to the abstract -- Lumines, Bookworm, Poker, Chess, Icehouse. But even in my game play I'm finding myself demanding more complete self-abandonment. I want both involvement and immersion. Perhaps this is what's made me enjoy the hyper-realism of Gears of War so much. Perhaps it's why my brain has kicked back into a zone where flight sim actually seems exciting, and why the stories of the Lord of the Rings Online have grabbed me. None of these require much from me in the way of imagination because of their very immersion.

I've long thought (perhaps conditioned by the gaming press) of TV and Film and Books as a "passive" medium, and games an "active" one. But I think I've made a false distinction. The difference between a good game and a good book isn't so much the participation level -- I've become very involved with many books. No, it's the level of immersion. I can become more immersed -- and thus imaginatively passive -- in a well made game where I have the illusion of free will.

And this is what I seem to need more of. I know that biologically, as I grow older my senses actually change. My eyesight and hearing will get worse, my sense of taste will morph to where the hot sauce and bitter coffee seem pleasant. My intellectual capacity and my muscle tone will require more and more effort to maintain. But none of this scares me as much as the thought that I have so outgrown my childhood ability to create something out of nothing that the lizard part of my brain has taken over, making me nothing more than a vessel for reaction.

I console myself with the idea that like so many things in my life, this will pass. I've lived a roller coaster of obsessions and delights and depressions and worries my whole life. Not bipolar, merely serially deranged. Perhaps my own children will, as the cliches run, make me feel more like a child myself. But as much as I do genuinely relive childhood joys and sorrows through my children's eyes, I know that I can never, truly go back.

Comments

Another great and thought provoking piece. But stop making my future look less nice please.

No, it's the level of immersion. I can become more immersed -- and thus imaginatively passive -- in a well made game where I have the illusion of free will.

I guess Dwarf Fortress didn't do it for ya eh Rabbit? Great article, and I certainly agree (at least for me) more immersive games are more compelling. I've always been looking for the next big step in immersion. That's why I bought my X-FI sound card, my TrackIR kit for my flight sims, and a HOTAS kit instead of using my perfectly good MSFF2 Sidewinder stick. The amount of hi-fidelity feedback you get from some games these days leaves little the imagination but still demand your attention and strategy.

Beautiful article. Makes me think, though. I really need to get started working on that intellectual capacity and muscle tone thing, or it'll be gone before I know it. I spend so much time in my imagination, I'm more worried that I won't keep up with my real world concerns.

Free Ersatz Tibet!

Great read, rabbit. Nice job.

Touche on Dwarf Fortress. I did (and occasionally still do) enjoy DF. But for me it was like chess -- despite the depth and the story created, it was abstract. And I have no interest in at this moment. I don't think I've lost the ability to use my imagination at all, just that I get less and less focussed on it.

Perhaps imagination is like a muscle -- if I use it more, I'll recapture something.

Fantastic article, rabbit.

But on the other hand the rules, the structure, and the story are more intense and controlling than they are when reading a book or watching a movie. Perhaps it's the illusion of freedom that actually makes the force-fed imagination that much more palatable.

I'd argue that movies, books and games (at least linear games) all have the same amount of control over structure and story. I find it hard to think that a movie or book, where you are led through the director's/writer's world, hand in hand, can be any less restrictive than for linear games. Rules are a different matter though and that illusion of freedom is a pain in the ass as some people see it and others don't. Visuals are, of course, most controlling in movies and least controlling in books.

I've long thought (perhaps conditioned by the gaming press) of TV and Film and Books as a "passive" medium, and games an "active" one. But I think I've made a false distinction. The difference between a good game and a good book isn't so much the participation level -- I've become very involved with many books. No, it's the level of immersion. I can become more immersed -- and thus imaginatively passive -- in a well made game where I have the illusion of free will.

Yeah, totally agree with this and it's the reason why i don't watch any television anymore and rarely read books - which is terrible as my english sucks as it is!

Perhaps imagination is like a muscle -- if I use it more, I'll recapture something.

This, i'm pretty sure, is a known fact. I should probably try and back it up with some psychologically orientated paper but i can't remember where i read it. Just as different cognitive functions are improved with use, so is imagination. This is the reasoning behind Brain Training and other such "improve yourself" devices.
I actually find it kind of sad because in one sense, we are less complete than when we were young. It's like an important part of us dies when we become conditioned by the adult world into not thinking like a child...

Great article rabbit - always enjoy your stuff.

As a kid and young adolescent imagination was a huge part of my life. Once I discovered pen and paper RPG's I was hooked for several years on exploring the bounds of my imagination. While I don't think I've really "lost" my imaginative abilities I do agree I have less opportunity and possibly less need for it on a personal basis. I probably haven't done p&p RP gaming in about 15 years. With age and increased responsibilities I guess came the understanding that I needed to use and adapt my imagination in new ways. I'm thinking of the times I spend with my kids, making up silly songs and characters purely for their entertainment or as an on-the-spot distraction from the immediate self-perceived "trauma" they're dealing with. So I guess imagination isn't dead for me, just transformed. And probably my adult life as a gamer is a direct extension of my desire for a more personal "adult" application of my imagination.

Man, you have a way of really making me think about stuff I never think about. Thanks.

I've been dying to go to Magic Kingdom. I haven't been for nearly a decade and would like to go unchaperoned. I hear Epcot has beer. Everest makes me want go that much more.

Splendid article, Rabbit

You don't have to "go back". You're already there.

Childhood is one long change after another. Your daughter is in a particular stage (and a particularly lovely one at that; I miss fairies). But in a few years her imagination will have changed modes. Her belief in exterior magic will fade, and she will search for her own magic within. So fairies go by the wayside, and stories about powerful children will take their place. Then once she is well on that trip down Hormone Hall, she will begin searching for some way out of this confusing morass she's in and head off into more daring adventures in wild lands.

Going into more of an adult mode on your imagination is just one more change. Yes, there is often less "range" in it, but it can be so much deeper. I see it as focusing more on the actual experience rather than structuring the experience. When you're littler it's all about building the newest, weirdest cloud-castle. When you're a grown up, you don't worry about the walls so much anymore. It's all about getting all the way from the topmost tower to the deepest dungeon.

The best part of the more adult mode is the amount of choice. Little kids all have a very common experience as they got through the various developmental steps. As an adult, you're not trammelled by any of that. If you don't like it, it doesn't have to be that way. The passivity level is yours to decide.

As an adult who almost entered the parenthood doorway but didn't, I really treasure pieces like this one, rabbit. Thanks again for enriching my day.

Mmm, adult imagination. That's sure gotten me in trouble before.

FYI: I have a friend who seems to think he can tell you where all the faries are. He says there are also a lot of rainbows in that part of town, if you can believe it. I didn't ask about unicorns.

Great article! I love the bit about how children are perfectly fine with both real and pretend at once. That seems so true.

Some things I've been thinking about..

I've been a reader since I was little (especially when I was younger, since as an adult my reading is measured by books per year rather than books per week!). I become very immersed in the story, but somehow the imaginative part doesn't kick in for me. I never have a fully formed image of the characters.. It's like my mind is perfectly happy with the abstract concepts of the characters, and I just lose myself in the story without ever giving them a face.

With books, my imagination comes into play more when I'm not actually reading. If I'm really immersed in a book, I'll find myself replaying scenes in my head later on as I'm walking or daydreaming, trying to figure out the characters motivations or how things fit together. Or picturing how things may have happened in the scenes that aren't described.

In games, it's harder to care about the characters. When I play games I become very immersed as well, but it's more about putting yourself into the avatar of the character. What grabs me most is exploring new environments and new experiences, or being in a "flow" kind of moment.

When I play games, I find that there's a definite difference for me between types of open-ended games. There are those where you can truly explore freely, but are low on plot-story (like an MMO). This is where I love exploring. Then there are adventure games where I KNOW there are multiple pathways through the game and perhaps endings, but knowing that just makes me feel compelled to discover all of them in order to fully experience the game (and hurts my appreciation of the story). It actually makes me feel more constrained to know that I have that freedom of choice. I couldn't handle Black & White

I guess what it comes down to is this - to enjoy my entertainment, I need it to make me feel more than make me think.

I believe in fairies. All you gotta do is turn on any reality show these days and you'll see them. Oh, especially that Project Runway show. That's like a fairy breeding ground right there.

Excellent article Rabbit. I gave up watching TV a long time ago in order to have more gaming time. People often ask me how do I find time the put hours into gaming with everything else that is going on. I simply reply to them that I enjoy the story of games more than TV narratives, and while they sit down and watch the third incarnation of CSI, I game.

Although my daughters are a little more than a year younger than yours, Rabbit, everything you wrote (including your thread comment) could have come directly from my mind... except you said it better, of course. Thanks.

After reading your excellent article Rabbit, I'm more sure than ever than I have not really grown up at all. I'm 31 and still manage to think like a 6 year old on a daily basis.

Your daughter sounds like a wonderful girl with a rich imagination. I hope she never loses it.

Talking to Fairies? I saw Pan's Labyrinth man, this cannot end well. The message is clear, the Fascists win when kids talk to fairies.