Over the winter break I mostly withdrew from “literature,” which at this point it seems pretty clear to me that I am earning a degree in, and focused on my first love, video games. Two of the games that I played got me started back up on the problem of storytelling in the medium, “Persona 4 Golden” and “Uncharted: Golden Abyss.” (They have little in common aside from the lustrous adjective in their titles.)
This is a discussion that has been going on for at least six years. In his critique of “Bioshock,” developer Clint Hocking coins the term “ludonarrative dissonance,” a fancy word for when gameplay and narrative conflict with each other.
“Uncharted: Golden Abyss” is riddled with this kind of dissonance. You are told through cutscenes and voice acting that protagonist Nathan Drake is likable, relatable and down-to-earth. Yet over the course of the game he kills hundreds of people, because, you know, that’s what you do in games.
When it comes down it, Drake’s characterization is well-done. The act of shooting enemies is fun. But like oil and water, the two elements never mesh. You can feel this disconnect, and eventually the setting and characters become little more than window dressing.
The gameplay and story of “Persona 4 Golden” cohere much better. Relationships you establish have positive effects on certain gameplay elements. Problems arise, though, when these relationships aren’t acknowledged within  the game’s main narrative, which results in inconsistent behavior between characters.
Now let’s look at modern “achievement” systems. All chaff stripped away, the narrative of “Persona 4 Golden” is ripe for interpretation, full of meaning waiting to be picked apart. It’s also full of arbitrary side missions and trophies to earn.
When the game’s conclusion snuck up on me, I hadn’t earned the trophy for finishing all the quests. The story told me that it’s time for resolution; the game told me I mismanaged my time, and I shouldn’t feel resolved.
Maybe I’m being hypercritical. I love games, and I adore “Persona 4 Golden,” but would we tolerate such schizophrenia in our books and movies?