INTRODUCTION

Video games have always been queer…Queerness and video games share a common ethos: the longing to imagine alternative ways of being and to make space within structures of power for resistance through play.

–Bo Ruberg, Introduction, Video Games Have Always Been Queer (2019)

This syllabus sits at the intersection of video games and queerness, drawing inspiration from the queer game studies movement. We’ll think about and play games with queer representation, and games without that nevertheless subvert mainstream gaming narratives and conventions, as Ruberg explains in the introduction to their book. Gaymers are asserting their queerness through modding, hacking, or otherwise configuring their game selves and game worlds through customization, action, and game making.

The course starts out with a Tutorial stage, followed by Level 1, Level 2, and Level 3, before a final boss (cue the music!). The TUTORIAL stage will attempt to define the field of queer game studies, while also delving into examples of games with queer representation and their context. LEVEL 1: BODIES discusses transitioning bodies + their relationship to and representation in games. LEVEL 2: RELATIONSHIPS discusses the representation of queer relationships in games, their visibility and invisibility, and the potential queerness of game mechanics themselves. LEVEL 3: SPACES discusses how game spaces can be queer in terms of game narratives, player groups, and user-generated content. Finally, fear not, the FINAL BOSS is an optional project that sets you on a quest to write + code your own game and your own story.

Feel free to journal, doodle, or simply reflect on the questions asked in the sections below—and keep them in mind if you want to pursue the final boss! Whenever possible, I’ve noted which games are able to be played for free in-browser or via a free download. You can also look up gameplay videos online to get a feel for the games. I highly encourage you to support the writers and indie game creators mentioned here if you are able by purchasing their work.

TUTORIAL: QUEER GAME STUDIES

Video games have always been queer—and who knows how many have been lost to history. The earliest known computer games that are still playable online are Caper in the Castro (1989) and GayBlade (1992), in addition to a variety of Multi-User Dungeons (MUDs) in the early days of the Internet which featured gendered play and queer interactions—albeit in ways that were often problematic.

Both developed and distributed during the AIDS epidemic, Caper and GayBlade feature inside jokes and dark political humor, drawing on contemporary queer experiences. Caper, a murder mystery featuring an LGBTQ+ cast, was initially released as “Charity Ware” to raise money for AIDS charities of players’ choosing. GayBlade was recovered only recently in 2020; you can learn more about the game’s inspirations and tribulations from creator Ryan Best in Episode 3 of High Score (Netflix). I think GayBlade’s manual describes the game best:

GayBlade takes players into an ancient and dark dungeon on a terrifying Quest—to rescue Empress Nelda from the disgusting right-wing creatures inhabiting the dungeon. Fortunately, the rescue party is made up of heroic Drag Queens, Queers, Lesbians, and others who will stop at nothing to get their beloved Empress back to luxurious Castle GayKeep. But can they succeed when so many others have failed before them?

In recent years, queer game studies has manifested as a movement in game making, game playing, and game criticism, redefining games socially, culturally, and in terms of the medium itself. While the first critiques of video games from a queer studies perspective called for the broader representation of gender and sexual identities in games, Adrienne Shaw has found that “gaymer identity was tied less to a queer sexuality than to a queer sensibility,” and that “[f]inding a space to express this identity was more important to members of this community than the existence of LGBTQ video game characters.”

In her first chapter of Rise of the Videogame Zinesters, Anna Anthropy sets out to explain the “The Problem with Videogames,” citing a need to move away from the heterosexual masculinity that defines mainstream game cultures and game studios. In drawing on queer experiences and imaginations, Bo Ruberg finds gamemakers like Anthropy to be forming a movement of their own that Ruberg terms the queer games avant-garde. Throughout this syllabus, we’ll think about queerness + games in both AAA (big budget) and indie (independent) titles, and the ways in which graphics, narratives, mechanics, and more contribute to this movement.

LEVEL 1: BODIES

Every video game offers us the chance to be someone or something else—an avatar. Whether we create our own through a simple character creator or with a million sliders—or whether the game gives us a character to play as—we navigate gamespace figuring out our avatar bodies: how they appear, how they move, how they relate to others and the world. Aevee Bee’s article “I love my untouchable virtual body” (Offworld, 2015) reflects on the sense of agency, freedom, and invincibility that she feels playing violent games—something which she, in real life, going through transition, is trying to achieve both personally and interpersonally.

Anna Anthropy’s dys4ia (2012; free, in browser) plays on games’ unique capacity for allowing us to inhabit and experience a body. In four vignette-like mini games within the game, Anthropy represents the interpersonal and affective dimensions of her transition, including the awkwardness of the changing body while starting hormone therapy and navigating gendered spaces and interactions. As Anthropy reflects in this interview and in Rise of the Videogame Zinesters, games can tell queer stories and communicate frustration—through graphics, mechanics, and narrative.

Assignment: Are you your avatar?

Both Anthropy and Bee are trans*women, and their work speaks to their own individual experiences while transitioning. They each showcase the creative power of games to represent trans* and queer stories. In dys4ia, Anthropy’s avatar is ever-changing; Bee’s Bloodborne avatar is defensive, swift, and passionate.

Boot up a game, and reflect:

• What does your avatar look like?
• Did you customize your avatar, or was it default?
• Whether playing with a super-customized avatar or not, how do you identify as yourself—or feel like yourself—in the game?
• Is it possible to present queer in this game, and how so: through appearance, action, or otherwise?

LEVEL 2: RELATIONSHIPS

How are queer relationships present in games through appearance, action, and dialogue? To what extent are queer relationships merely suggested or included as Easter eggs?

Queer relationships are becoming more and more visible in both indie games and AAA (big budget) games. AAA games increasingly include queer characters, same-sex relationships and marriages, and narratives spotlighting queer characters. The popular online first-person shooter game Apex Legends features eight queer characters who hold a variety of identities, including pansexual, bisexual, non-binary, trans*, and questioning.

Perhaps most famously (and now with an HBO adaption), The Last of Us Part I and Part II feature lesbian protagonist Ellie; The Last of Us Part II (2018) trailer for E3 even featured Ellie and her crush Dina sharing a kiss, a very visible moment for queer inclusion in games. The HBO series expands the queerness of the games’ characters, building up backstories and underscoring how queerness can emerge in games through the adaptations and imaginations of the surrounding game communities themselves. In this vein, Jamison Keith Warren’s thesis shows how queer readings in fandom are intertwined with personal and communal queer identity.

That said, in AAA titles, elements of queerness can often be relegated to secondary narratives and side characters or mere Easter eggs. For instance, in the Nintendo title Animal Crossing: New Horizons (2020), fans read the game dialogue surrounding the characters Flick and CJ, who were termed “partners,” as queer-coded. Eric James describes the queer Easter egg as an aspect of a game that “offers reparative opportunities for reading queerness into outwardly ‘straight’ games,” while nevertheless upholding the marginal positionality of queerness in gaming. Is this just another form of rainbow capitalism, or is it as subversive and radically inclusive as some of us would hope?

Indie games have long been a treasure trove for queer narratives and queer gaming; without them, there wouldn’t be a queer games avant-garde. For instance, check out Sean Wejebe’s The Longest Couch (2013; free to play & download). Subtitled “queer cooperative kissing,” this is a cooperative game between two players sharing a keyboard, with the goal of moving each of the boys to the center of the couch to kiss. Whitney Pow describes the game as queering our relationship with everyday hardware (the keyboard) and data inputs, “imagining them…as facilitating queer intimacies and proximities.”

LEVEL 3: SPACES

For gaymers, games can be safe spaces to express and explore sexuality, gender identity, and relationships. They can also be the exact opposite, despite increasing representation within game narratives. Queer-friendly streamers, groups, and organizations (like Qweerty Gamers and Queer Women of Esports) are emerging to provide online safety and camaraderie to gaymers in online games and on streaming platforms.

What do queer spaces look like in games? In Coffee Talk (2020-2022), a visual novel-slash-casual-cafe-simulator game series, the cafe is an inclusive safe space for folks of all genders, sexualities, and fantasy races to vent after work and form unlikely relationships with other cafe dwellers, while you (a mysterious time-traveling barista of unknown gender or origin) listen, advise, and provide caffeine. In Stardew Valley (2016), Pelican Town is a small rural village where dateable villagers are open to same sex relationships without any of the NPCs batting an eye.

Yet these games have their limits, both in terms of player agency and the design of the worlds and narratives. User-generated content, including in-game customization, mods, and hacks, can transform game spaces into queer spaces. In AAA games, like Animal Crossing: New Horizons, user-generated content comes in and is shared through in-game customization features (including Pride-inspired designs and even staging queer weddings) despite an otherwise agnostic corporation leading the game’s development and marketing—echoing the rainbow capitalism concerns mentioned above.

Assignment: Visiting the LGBTQ Video Game Archive

Keeping in mind the BODIES, RELATIONSHIPS, and SPACES levels, let’s return to the LGBTQ Video Game Archive, documenting the history of queer representation in games, including those now unplayable or lost.

• Click here to visit the LGBTQ Video Game Archive.
• View the game entries ordered by series or by decade.
• View a few entries. Why are these games in the archive? How do they each constitute a queer space?
• Extra Credit: Are there any games missing that you think should be there? Is there a game entry that you feel needs amending? If yes, you should follow these instructions and volunteer!

FINAL BOSS: GAYME MAKING

Inspired by Anna Anthropy’s espousal of accessible game-making tools—and sharing her impetus for telling queer stories and a zine-like approach to game-making—let’s make some ga(y)mes!

Your game can be whatever you want it to be: it can be funny, it can be serious, it could be a murder mystery or a text-based walking sim. It could be based on a true story, or it could be fiction. As Ruberg told us above, video games have always been queer, with or without explicit queer representation; games imagine bodies, relationships, and spaces otherwise.

Most importantly, your game doesn’t have to be perfect; you’re just getting started!

Tips:

• Check out Anna Anthropy’s closing chapters of Rise of the Videogame Zinesters, which detail her own game making process, an overview of game making tools + software, and an open-ended step-by-step guide to starting your own game.
  • The first step? Choose a tool! I recommend using Twine, which is a free text-based game-making tool that can run in-browser or on your desktop. With Twine, you can write out a story and include interactive choices and elements; no need for visuals or a knowledge of intensive programming. Click here for an interactive Twine tutorial I made, built using Twine!
• Need some text-based game inspiration? Check out Anthropy’s interactive fiction games at the game-sharing site w.itch.io.
• Feeling adventurous? Try using a graphics-based game maker, like GBStudio (free, open source) or RPG Maker (free trial).
• Looking for a place to host your game? You can create an itch.io account and set up a page for free so others can play your game in-browser or via download.

Epilogue

Dear Syllabus follower: I would love to play your games, if you feel comfortable sharing. Email me at knotmangoz (at) proton (dot) me with a file, a link, or even just your machinations, or reach out to me via Instagram!

I would also love to thank my friend Dr. Camila Gutiérrez for getting me into game studies—and for teaching me how to use Twine.

Gayming 101 is referenced in Standing on My Soapbox Lovingly Lecturing About Zines, a syllabus by Melissa Mursch-Rodriguez.