Games and their manuals

I know this is going to sound like a “back in my day” rant but, well, it kind of its… When I was a lad, the family would frequently go on holiday to a little seaside town called Whitby. Those of you who have heard of it, have most likely heard of the world famous fish & chips as a-pose to the vast numbers of game stores and developer studios littered around. And that’s because there aren’t any. Not a single game shop in the town. Since the demise of Woolworths, if you live there and want to buy a game, you have to travel 120 miles to York to find anything decent.

That is of course, apart from the little second hand shop that was down an alley to the side of Woolworths. It sold guitars, dvds, televisions, and games. Whenever I got spending money in Whitby, I’d immediately go to Toymaster, buy a pack of Pokemon cards, and then rush to this second hand shop to browse their minuscule selection of games. I’d spend hours in there, making the gruff old man behind the till that stank heavily of cigarette smoke, reach over and hand me a box so I could read the blurb and make an informed decision as to which game I wanted.

After I’d spend my entire spending money on a pack of Pokemon cards and one game, on the first day, naturally I’d have nothing left to spend, but no console to play this new game on, as it was sat at home, waiting for me to grace its disk drive with whatever magnificent game I had purchased. So I would sit there, in our flat, while my Gran drank Vermouth and watched shite tv, and I’d read the game manual. Not only so when I got round to playing it I’d know all the buttons, and enemies, and not only so I could get the general feel of what the game was like, but simply because it would build the excitement of playing the game up in me, but without making me pine desperately for the game. This was a time when I only got a very small amount of pocket money, and so getting a new game was a big thing.

Unfortunately now, that feeling has gone. Bastardized by Steam-Sales and more money in my bank account. Few games thrill me as much as beating the Elite 4 on Pokemon Red, and after being so disappointed by Fable III, I’ve learned to reserve my hype until I pay the game. However, today I went out and bought Batman: Arkham City, a game which excited me no matter how badly I tried to pretend it didn’t. Unfortunately, I bought this game while visiting my parents, so my xbox wasn’t at hand. I couldn’t jump right in and play it, my console was once again at home pining for my new purchase. Suddenly I had the idea to take a trip down memory lane. Instead of watching gameplay videos, risking spoilers, and inadvertently learning what the best way to go through a level would be, I’d read the manual, just as I did as a child.

However, Batman: Arkham City is one of a growing number of games that ship without a gaming manual. Instead, there is a single page ‘booklet’, with health warnings, and a website address for the ‘online manual’. Now, I’m fully aware that I’m in the minority when it comes to hard copy preference. I know more people prefer to download their music for free rather than buy a CD, download games cheaper rather than buy a disk, and download films rather than buy a DVD, but surely, if someone has taken the time to buy the game from a store, then their reward should be the full deal. Sure, I didn’t fork out £60 for the special edition, but I didn’t download it illegally either. I think if a developer put tonnes of effort into a game, then they should follow it through with the packaging, like any other product. It’s upsetting to see how society is moving towards digital distribution, but worse to see people turning their backs on hard copies. A library of hard backs, while not as practical as a kindle, is still much more beautiful…

image: http://collider.com/