I didn’t write about this when I finished it a month or two ago, because I was pressed for time and because I didn’t know what to say about it. I enjoyed it a lot, but I’m not an experienced enough reader of comics or graphic novels to know how to talk about them. But I’ve recently been battered with adverts for Tetris World Tour, a microtransaction-pushing, power-up-laden mobile Tetris game, and it made me think of this page:
I’m glad Alexey Pajitnov got paid, but I’m not sure Tetris World Tour is a better representation of the ideals Henk Rogers sets out on this page than the various lovingly-made free Tetris implementations that The Tetris Company has squashed over the years.
I don’t read a lot of this kind of creative non-fiction, so I’ve never given much thought about the way it butts up against reality in places like this. These panels read a little differently if you have been pushed Tetris World Tour for the last week; in particular, Alexey’s frank final statement comes less as a light aside and more as a sting in the tail. Fiction has the luxury complete control over its world and its boundaries; true stories are never entirely finished. Part of me wants to respond to a work like this as if it were fiction (the willing imposition of disbelief?), but that instinct only kicks in when the story seems to conflict with reality: I never asked myself, for example, if I would be interested in this story at all if it wasn’t a true one.
To seasoned readers of creative non-fiction I’m sure these are among the most entry-level thoughts imaginable, which rather makes me want to read more. But I hate Tetris World Tour so much that I must award this no stars. ☆☆☆☆☆