Baby coming out of hospital today, thank God.
All better it seems, and I should start to have my life back.
Interesting reviews on Amazon, including this one:
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 A Strange Case Indeed, December 9, 2008 Barrowcliffe, aka “Spaz,” never had it in his genes to be normal. It wasn’t going to happen. Long before he heard of D&D, he was a dysfunctional, anti-social kid bottoming out on the skids. His masochistic attraction to those who despised him would have led him to a group that “delighted in being cruel to other boys” regardless of whether D&D was involved or not. He blames his “wasted” years (pre-drugs anyway) on a game, of all things, when clearly it was a self inflicted wound received in an environment – industrial working class Midlands England – that gave the world the spectacle of soccer hooligans and punk as a dominant lifestyle. Without the game, it seems he would have spent his formative years sniffing glue and burning things. Later in life when he had a chance to be “normal”, he ditched his day job for a writing career. The author does not seem to be able to form a clear picture of what the “normal” life he says he holds in such high regard would actually be like.
The gaming culture has always been a little different between the U.S. and U.K. Perhaps that explains some of the adolescent level sadism on display in “The Elfish Gene”. I regret that critics, i.e. outsiders, are hailing this book as the last word in memoirs about growing up in the early days of D&D. I see it instead as a painfully sad story about the life of an abject and exceptionally detached teenager. That the author blames his troubles on a game is like blaming a robbery on a jewelry store window display. It’s either a continuing delusion, or an apparently successful bit of “nerdsploitation.” It reinforces a negative stereotype by holding up a pathological case as a typical example.
It may come as a shock that a large percentage of us who “grew up strange” in the early days of D&D had girlfriends, good hygiene, were decent at sports, knew how to communicate with adults, had other talents and interests, spent most of our time outdoors, enjoyed the game for the story telling and social fun aspects, knew not to take it seriously, thought LARP was the height of ridiculousness, and never had the slightest bit of trouble separating games or the occult from reality. No one we knew came close to being as detached or irritating as “Andy” or the author. In fact we were “strange” mostly because we had more well rounded lives than the so-called normal kids.
The book is hilarious, unflinching, and you come away feeling sorry for anyone who’s ever lived in Coventry. For that I give it 2 stars. For those interested in an adult view of a severely disturbed boy, I recommend it. However, for anyone, especially someone who was not there, interested in a more general picture of growing up with D&D in the 70′s and 80′s, it really should be avoided. As a looking glass into the general case of adolescent fascination with D&D, “The Elfish Gene” is considerably out of focus. |
I have to say, I’m glad Alan found the book funny but I don’t recognise myself as an ‘anti-social kid bottoming out on the skids’. If I was bottoming out then I was top of my class at school, had lots of friends and a happy, supportive family and was winning writing prizes. I didn’t put that in the book because it seemed a bit big headed. I can’t really see myself as anti-social, either. I was uncool but is that antisocial? In fact, being antisocial would have been cool in the 1970s. I was crap at sport, though, so probably should have been shot for my own good.
I don’t really recognise these sporty, well adjusted sorts Alan seems to have met in his gaming. In my day I met more people who wore sandals with socks, smoked pipes and had their own pewter tankard in the pub at aged 19. I met some great people through D&D, and a few who were not so great. All I’ve done in the book is be honest.
I also wasn’t aware that I had that many troubles to blame on the game. Sure, sustained heavy drinking (that’s how I know I’m British) , a deep dislike of work but, hey, that’s just called being alive to reality where I live. I don’t regret that period of my life, I had a lot of fun.
When Alan says ‘it may come as a shock that ….’ and goes on to say that most gamers were very well-balanced, sporty ladies men, bloody right it comes as a shock. Have you ever been to a D&D convention, Al? It’s not Paris Pret a Porter week is it? How about a comics fair? Take a look around. I actually held back on including a few of the people I met because I thought they were too extreme. Rat, who ended up in a cult in Switzerland and one nameless other whose hobby was abusive phone calls and sitting outside the houses of the people who had bullied him at school sounding the horn on his car at 2am. I’m not saying everyone was like this, but a fair proportion were a bit off centre. It was actually part of the charm of the game to me. I like extraordinary people, even if they’re extraordinary in a rather odd way.
That said, things may have been different by the 1980s. In the 70s, D&D was a nerd-clique. By the 80s it was a mass-participation activity, so I guess a broader personality type may have been attracted. I’m not sure, though, that obsessives like myself were any more cool.
Anyway, I don’t comment normally on reviews but I did on this one, just because I found it interesting that someone had formed a view of me so far from the one I intended when writing the book. Who knows, Al could be right. Maybe I was severely disturbed. However, I have three words for a Texan accusing me of being severely disturbed: Henry Lee Lucas. Here’s two more: David Koresh.
I was a nerd. I’m proud to be a nerd. Embrace it, nerds, for you shall inherit the earth.
One last thing, Al. You wouldn’t have spent much time out of doors where I lived, not unless you wanted to go rusty, freeze or be stabbed.
This review is in twice because it won’t delete.
Oh well, that’s my nerd credentials burnt.
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A Strange Case Indeed, December 9, 2008
Barrowcliffe, aka “Spaz,” never had it in his genes to be normal. It wasn’t going to happen. Long before he heard of D&D, he was a dysfunctional, anti-social kid bottoming out on the skids. His masochistic attraction to those who despised him would have led him to a group that “delighted in being cruel to other boys” regardless of whether D&D was involved or not. He blames his “wasted” years (pre-drugs anyway) on a game, of all things, when clearly it was a self inflicted wound received in an environment – industrial working class Midlands England – that gave the world the spectacle of soccer hooligans and punk as a dominant lifestyle. Without the game, it seems he would have spent his formative years sniffing glue and burning things. Later in life when he had a chance to be “normal”, he ditched his day job for a writing career. The author does not seem to be able to form a clear picture of what the “normal” life he says he holds in such high regard would actually be like.
The gaming culture has always been a little different between the U.S. and U.K. Perhaps that explains some of the adolescent level sadism on display in “The Elfish Gene”. I regret that critics, i.e. outsiders, are hailing this book as the last word in memoirs about growing up in the early days of D&D. I see it instead as a painfully sad story about the life of an abject and exceptionally detached teenager. That the author blames his troubles on a game is like blaming a robbery on a jewelry store window display. It’s either a continuing delusion, or an apparently successful bit of “nerdsploitation.” It reinforces a negative stereotype by holding up a pathological case as a typical example.
It may come as a shock that a large percentage of us who “grew up strange” in the early days of D&D had girlfriends, good hygiene, were decent at sports, knew how to communicate with adults, had other talents and interests, spent most of our time outdoors, enjoyed the game for the story telling and social fun aspects, knew not to take it seriously, thought LARP was the height of ridiculousness, and never had the slightest bit of trouble separating games or the occult from reality. No one we knew came close to being as detached or irritating as “Andy” or the author. In fact we were “strange” mostly because we had more well rounded lives than the so-called normal kids.
The book is hilarious, unflinching, and you come away feeling sorry for anyone who’s ever lived in Coventry. For that I give it 2 stars. For those interested in an adult view of a severely disturbed boy, I recommend it. However, for anyone, especially someone who was not there, interested in a more general picture of growing up with D&D in the 70′s and 80′s, it really should be avoided. As a looking glass into the general case of adolescent fascination with D&D, “The Elfish Gene” is considerably out of focus.
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