Garnfellow
Explorer
There's a neat article over at Slate.com on the surge of fan interest in learning the fictional Na'vi language, just as people have taken up Klingon.
But what I found really interesting, from a gamer's perspective, was the intense desire for many of these fans to establish an authority over this made-up language:
To me, this all has eerie parallels to gaming, where many fans feel an overwhelming need to establish similar authorities for their imaginary worlds. They clamor for Official (tm) answers to all their rules questions, they set up game creators as final arbiters with an almost cultish fervor. James Maliszewski, for example, has made a blogging career out of his search for the most authentic, authoritative version of D&D.
It's a powerful impulse, and one I often feel myself, but where does it come from, and ultimately, what good does it do? Paul Frommer may have originated the Na'vi language, but once people start speaking a language, it really stops belonging to any one person -- just as when people start playing an RPG, it stops belonging to the game creator (or the game company) alone.
But what I found really interesting, from a gamer's perspective, was the intense desire for many of these fans to establish an authority over this made-up language:
Prrton and fans like him want a language authority. They want confirmation that what they have figured out so far is correct. They want more vocabulary to work with and a wider range of sentence examples so they can better determine how to use the language. Na'vi is attractive to fans because it's usable in the real world, but it loses its value without a coherent connection to the fictional world of the film. If Na'vi speakers just made up words as needed and settled questions of grammar on their own, they would no longer be speaking the language of Pandora. And that's the whole point: to speak Na'vi, not some other weird language. There is also the danger that a sequel will come along and undo all the decisions they've made in a few lines of dialogue.
To me, this all has eerie parallels to gaming, where many fans feel an overwhelming need to establish similar authorities for their imaginary worlds. They clamor for Official (tm) answers to all their rules questions, they set up game creators as final arbiters with an almost cultish fervor. James Maliszewski, for example, has made a blogging career out of his search for the most authentic, authoritative version of D&D.
It's a powerful impulse, and one I often feel myself, but where does it come from, and ultimately, what good does it do? Paul Frommer may have originated the Na'vi language, but once people start speaking a language, it really stops belonging to any one person -- just as when people start playing an RPG, it stops belonging to the game creator (or the game company) alone.