the experience of gender in medieval video games

1: “I feel somewhat trapped. In this room, in this settlement, in this life”: depicting women and the experience of gender in medieval video games

Katherine J. Lewis, @profkjlewis, University of Huddersfield

I work on representations of gender in medieval historical narratives. Instead of examining whether they give ‘accurate’ accounts I consider how and why people and events are repackaged and the function of gender within this process. Recently I’ve focused on crusade texts. I take the same approach to modern medieval narratives. Instead of highlighting what games ‘get wrong’ we must acknowledge what they do well: their capacity to go beyond conventional academic formats and enhance our understanding of the past, as discussed in these books.

Medievalism is a well-established field but gender hasn’t been substantially discussed (except Joan of Arc!) This is changing with studies focused on women including medieval games in @JLDraycott‘s collection and see also her volume with @KatExe on women in classical games. I must also highlight here my PhD students @CalumLeatham and @TesterPoppy working, respectively, on gender in Japanese dating games with Western European medieval settings and on the depiction of women in medieval video games in relation to design, mechanics and reception.

But masculinity in Medievalism is still lagging behind. It’s crucial to investigate modern depictions of medieval masculinity: some modern conceptions of masculinity (drawing on extremist ideologies) are made to appear ‘natural’ with reference to the Middle Ages. Blackburn and Scharrer state that young adults who favour violent games endorse traditional hypermasculinity, contending ‘game creators have a responsibility to vary the roles and actions… [of] male characters…to better reflect…performances of gender…in the real world.’ Masculinity in games isn’t only embodied by and experienced via male characters, but female too. It’s arguably now compulsory to have warrior women in medieval narratives: part of the wider rise of women action heroes, accomplished fighters equal to/better than men. Some historical settings offer more justification than others for women warriors. Sagas delineate them as a distinctive aspect of the Viking mentalité: both Vikings (tv) and Assassin’s Creed: Valhalla draw heavily on sagas ergo the inclusion of shield maidens makes sense.

But were shield maidens real? Were they a regular feature of Viking society? Debate continues to rage, especially focused on the Birka grave. Many argue that Viking warrior women always tell us more about the time when they’re portrayed than about actual Vikings.

Admirable women in historical media are now habitually those who adopt masculine qualities and accomplishments, including violence, often involving denigration of traditionally feminine traits or occupations: for example, Michael Hirst’s rationale for including Lagertha in Vikings. In Assassin’s Creed: Valhalla Eivor can be a woman or a man (although is canonically female) and the choice makes little difference: they dress the same and have the same story. Vikings influenced their appearance: exemplifying media informed/created popular perceptions of the past.

Female Eivor and similar depictions reflect the currency of shield maidens as an idea in Viking society but don’t represent the vast majority of Viking women or the distinctive forms of agency they possessed, resting on other attributes and activities than violence. For more detail see @sagaknitter‘s fantastic book highlighting the association between women and wise council, the value placed on

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women’s intelligence, also their management of household economies and the significance of their involvement in weaving and textile work.

There is a character in Assassin’s Creed: Valhalla who does more nearly embody real women’s occupations and status: Randvi (wife of Eivor’s foster brother Sigurd), the chief advisor in Ravensthorpe, a wise and capable manager and subject of a quest called (tellingly) ‘Taken for Granted’. At the start of this Randvi says ‘I feel somewhat trapped. In this room, in this settlement, in this life.’ She spends so much time overseeing Ravensthorpe’s affairs that she later refers to herself ironically as a ‘Table Maiden’. Eivor takes her outside for adventure!

During the quest (which leads to a potential romance, whether Eivor is male or female) Randvi experiences Eivor’s world, hunting and fighting bandits, having a drinking contest, then climbing a ruined tower. Eivor tells Randvi her adventurer’s heart had been hidden behind the table. Randvi replies revealingly: ‘I was rowdy in my youth: hunting, sailing. I was a wildling of the open air, before I became this staunch and stoic woman. Married off in service between two clans. A noble and worthy role, but not one I had ever imagined for myself.’ Randvi has status and authority, but the game also articulates the limitations of her situation, especially her status as a commodity. Like many medieval women Randvi has no choice in her husband and marriage is unfulfilling; hence she is attracted both to Eivor and adventure. Randvi’s dissatisfaction feels like an authentic expression of the frustration some women must have felt faced with patriarchal constraints. This is where games can shine; depicting inner lives of people, including women, not usually accessible via medieval sources.

But why does Randvi have to aspire to be a warrior? Why must that be the epitome of achievement for a female character? Why do women have to be violent and hypermasculine in order to be fulfilled and admirable? Actually, the same questions could be applied to male characters too! The inclusion of women warrior characters has value as a means of combatting sexist and misogynistic attacks which use ‘historical accuracy’ to criticise and deride moves towards equality and diversity of representation. Although such attacks are themselves denounced. Depicting historical women only in domestic roles, supporting male relatives is also problematic: by modern standards this reinforces reactionary stereotypes about the gendering of occupations, lately compounded by the pandemic and its impact on women’s careers. Thus, Eivor can be a woman but is still masculine; Randvi is a leader but resents having had to become a ‘worthy’ woman. So: how can such games include and centre women while avoiding the reiteration of essentialist patriarchal paradigms that prize masculinity over femininity?

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