The life story of Gary Gygax, godfather of all fantasy adventure games, has been told only in bits and pieces. Michael Witwer has written a dynamic, dramatized biography of Gygax from his childhood in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin to his untimely death in 2008.
Gygax's magnum opus, Dungeons & Dragons, would explode in popularity throughout the 1970s and '80s and irreversibly alter the world of gaming. D&D is the best-known, best-selling role-playing game of all time, and it boasts an elite class of alumni--Stephen Colbert, Robin Williams, and Junot Diaz all have spoken openly about their experience with the game as teenagers, and some credit it as the workshop where their nascent imaginations were fostered.
Gygax's involvement in the industry lasted long after his dramatic and involuntary departure from D&D's parent company, TSR, and his footprint can be seen in the genre he is largely responsible for creating. But as Witwer shows, perhaps the most compelling facet of his life and work was his unwavering commitment to the power of creativity in the face of myriad sources of adversity, whether cultural, economic, or personal. Through his creation of the role-playing genre, Gygax gave two generations of gamers the tools to invent characters and entire worlds in their minds. Told in narrative-driven and dramatic fashion, Witwer has written an engaging chronicle of the life and legacy of this emperor of the imagination.
MICHAEL WITWER is a New York Times–bestselling author known for his work on the Hugo-nominated Dungeons & Dragons: Art & Arcana, the critically acclaimed Empire of Imagination: Gary Gygax and the Birth of Dungeons & Dragons, and the bestselling D&D Heroes’ Feast cookbook series. His most recent works include Dungeons & Dragons: The Book of Dragons, The Legend of Drizzt Visual Dictionary, and his award-winning debut fantasy novel, Vivian Van Tassel and the Secret of Midnight Lake. He also starred on the eOne/Lionsgate cooking show Heroes' Feast, based on his book series of the same name. In 2024, Michael had the privilege of writing the opening feature in TIME’s D&D 50th Anniversary special issue. Michael holds degrees from Northwestern University and the University of Chicago and resides in Chicago, Illinois, with his wife, two daughters, and two sons.
Michael Witwer’s FREAKIN AWESOME biography of Gygax and the creation of Dungeons and Dragons is to old gamer nerds like me what a book about Abner Doubleday is to baseball fans or a book about Robert Johnson is to blues aficionados.
It is a study of origins.
And just as there was some kind of ball before Doubleday and there was delta music prior to Crossroads, there were board and strategy games before Gygax’s paradigm shift. But Gygax dragged it kicking and screaming from the basements and back rooms into the mainstream.
It has been said of America that hundreds of years from now, we will be known for the Constitution, Jazz music and Baseball. Can we add gaming? From its very humble origins in the convention halls of Wisconsin, Dungeons and Dragons fueled generations to make fantasy cool and gaming a scholarship source rivaling more traditional sports in billions of dollars of revenue.
And what of the wasted lives of youth spent in hours of mindless devotion and of wearing expensive and impractical colorful, cult like garb? What of grown men acting like kids and of spending precious time in idle and unproductive inactivity? And of course I’m asking about sports fans. Gamers who’ve sharpened their wits on strategy and diplomacy have gone on to change the world one roll of a twenty sided dice at a time.
Witwer chronicles Gygax early years, his shoestring and homemade early drafts of the game that would change the world, his meteor rise to the top and his inauspicious decline. And, most enjoyably, of the recognition in old age of his great contributions to our culture.
True, this may be just for fans, and to be fair, though Witwer is a talented writer, this was not great literature, but to this owner of some second edition books from the early 80s, this was a fun read.
The surest way to ensure a miniscule audience is to lead with the fact that you’re writing something related to Dungeons & Dragons.
I can’t imagine this imaginative biography of D&D creator Gary Gygax, which takes considerable (albeit informed) creative liberties to flesh out the entirety of his life through imagined dialogue and inner monologues, found a massive audience upon release, even though Gygax is revered as a deity in certain nerdy circles. Now, if Witwer had led with the bit about Gary doing lines of cocaine while nailing Hollywood starlets when he sought to bring D&D to the big screen in the early 80s, that might have drawn a substantial crossover audience…
In the spirit of the book’s approach, let’s imagine what that sort of encounter would have looked like (get your dice ready):
Gary Gygax: Hey, baby…I’m Gary Gygax, creator of ultra-cool gaming phenomenon Dungeons & Dragons.
Starlet: Isn’t that the game that all the dorky guys play? The one that, like, made that guy kill himself in the sewer tunnels in Michigan?
Gygax: That’s not at all what happened. The media is populated with morons. Trust me—D&D is the height of cool. (Rolls a charisma check…gets a 2.)
Starlet: You’re overweight and have a bad beard, and why do you have a ponytail, even though you’re starting to go bald?
Gygax: (Reaches into his bag of holding.) Yeah, but I have a lot of money. And cocaine. Did I mention that I have cocaine?
Starlet: (Shrugs.) I’m into cocaine. Okay. I’ll do you.
Gary’s brief on-a-bender time in Hollywood is really just an irrelevant footnote in the tale of D&D’s creation and ultimate rise to the pinnacle of the gaming world, an achievement whose influence far surpasses the revenue it’s generated—a story that, by and large, Witwer does justice to.
Rest assured that I’m not about to subject you to paeans to the glory of THAC0, ruminations on saving throws versus poison, or thoughts on restrictions placed on multiclass characters, though I’d be delighted to opine on all of those topics upon request (I’ll pause here so you can breathe a grateful sigh of relief). But, I would like to take a moment to reflect upon the outsized effect D&D has had on my life relative to time spent actually playing it.
I started role-playing around the age of 14 or 15, and, looking back, if you count up the total number of hours I’ve spent actually playing D&D over the course of my life, it would probably work out to fewer hours than I work in an average month (and certainly far fewer hours than I’ve spent exploring the wonders of my own bo…never mind; let’s just move on, shall we?). But, if you tabulate the number of hours I’ve spent reading D&D rule books and related novels…creating characters…writing adventures to run as a DM…and generally thinking about the game, well, now we’re talking about a pretty significant chunk of time.
It’s entirely possible that the age of D&D (not to mention the broader world of pen-and-paper RPGs) has passed—I don’t doubt that it will live on in perpetuity for a small subsegment of the gaming populace, but I suspect it will become increasingly niche (though let’s not discount the value of the brand in the context of a virtual reality environment—that’s where the future of the game is). Despite that, however, its influence on an entire generation of business, technology, and entertainment luminaries is undeniable—from Silicon Valley CEOs to innovative game designers to major movie stars, the number of influential people who spent their formative years holed up in a basement knocking back grape soda while slaying dragons with dice is mind-boggling, and, in turn, THEIR influence on popular culture is staggering.
I’m a somewhat competitive person, but I’m more of a collaborator, so the idea of a game that focuses on teamwork and achieving group success is particularly appealing to me, and was especially so during my formative teenage years, when the rigors of high school social life were sufficiently cutthroat and challenging without layering complications on top of that. Further, the world building and storytelling skills that are required to be a Dungeon Master couldn’t help but inform and develop my skills, and I doubt that The Camelot Shadow and The Chronicle of Heloise & Grimple would exist if I hadn’t honed those skills crafting D&D adventures (note to people who regret having lost hours of their lives to reading either of those worthy tomes: please send complaints to Mr. Gygax’s gravesite).
So, for a game that, all told, I haven’t spent that many hours actually playing, it’s had a massive influence on me, and while reading about the mismanagement and poor business decisions that led to the demise of TSR and Gygax’s ouster from the company he founded and disconnection from the game he so lovingly crafted (with an assist from the oft-overlooked Dave Arneson, the Steve Ditko of RPGs) was, at times, sad and depressing, there’s inspiration to be found in seeing the development of an enterprise that was driven by a pure love of gaming and entertainment and creating a shared, collaborative storytelling experience that would enable anyone and everyone to embark on the grandest of adventures from the safety of their living rooms.
Empire of the Imagination isn’t really a biography in any traditional sense. If I liked it better I’d call it an experimental biography; but I did not like it, so it looks to me more like a category error. Rather than a biography, it’s a series of fictionalized vignettes about events in Gary Gygax’s life, loosely connected by nods at context. One chapter (for example) dramatizes over the course of three pages Gygax agonizing over what to do with his life, climaxing with him deciding to join the marines (and implausibly circling the recruiting ad in red pen, as though leaving clues for Scooby-Doo); the next chapter begins with him not in the marines, but fortunately there is a quick flashback later to establish that he was discharged.
The style and tone owe much more to the conventions of fiction than the conventions of biography – most of the book, if you showed it to a random observer, would be mistaken for a novel. “‘Keep it down, damn it!’ said the teen in the brown leather jacket as he worked his way around to the front of the car in the small barnlike garage” is the first sentence of chapter 6; “‘More champagne, ma’am?’ asked the flight attendant” is the first sentence of chapter 31; and these are I think a fair representation of the book. Unfortunately, because the conventions of fiction require so much dialogue and detail, the majority of the incidents in the book require Michael Witwer to make things up; and in making things up, he takes the safest route and falls back on cliches, such as the red pen above. “Bang! Bang! Bang!” is the opening paragraph to the chapter in which Gygax’s wife pounds on the door and shouts, “I know you're in there, Ernest Gary Gygax!” (each chapter's opening is usually its weakest part). The end result is neither good fiction nor good biography.
The obvious inspiration for this manner of pseudo-non-fiction is the “dramatization” familiar from TV tabloid news. At the risk of sounding like a crank, I must say I find it remarkable, and also depressing, how often book authors insist on taking their cues from the death-throes of the moribund medium of television. This is most noticeable in the reality-TV-inspired “challenges” so many nonfiction writers assign themselves, but also in the flat, cold, trite, purely visual prose that we are subject to in many books, including this one.
Jumping around between various “good scenes,” as Witwer does, necessarily presents an odd, skewed portrait of a life. The time young Gary encountered a poltergeist reads like four pages of a Goosebumps novel – a good scene indeed! – but there’s very little attempt to justify its inclusion, or length, beyond the inherent drama of the situation. A general lack of rigor in the facts makes the accuracy of Witver’s imagined scenes suspect, or even more suspect than they already would be when viewed with a healthy skepticism about fictionalizing someone else’s life. One example: On page 97 Dave Megarry’s DUNGEON! board game is listed as an inspiration for Arneson’s original Blackmoor campaign; on page 126, Dave Magarry has joined TSR “to publish a board game version of D&D, aptly named DUNGEON!” These two statements are not irreconcilable, but they do demand some kind of explanation, which is not forthcoming.
Also, there’s an ongoing conceit in which…cosmic forces? game with Gygax in a campaign that is a sustained allegory for his life? This was not a good idea.
The end result is a book that is resolutely pro-Gygax – perhaps not an incorrect, but certainly a partisan and unbalanced stance – and consistently prioritizes atmosphere over content. This latter quality is so similar to a late-second-edition rulebook that I would almost think it was a homage, like the great Jeff Easley book jacket – except of course Gygax had nothing to do with 2e books.
I won’t be the first reviewer to mention that Peterson’s Playing at the World covers much of the same material in a fashion that is more authoritative and intelligent. This book does extend to later in Gygax’s life than Peterson’s does, and so interested readers won’t be wasting their time with this book. I’m still hoping Gygax will someday get the biography he deserves.
It is very clear that Empire of Imagination: Gary Gygax and the Birth of Dungeons & Dragons is heavily colored by a Lake Geneva-centric perspective. That makes sense. It is, after all, a biography of E. Gary Gygax. At times, the book was a marvelous source of anecdotal insight to the early days of Dungeons & Dragons while, at other times, it seemed rather sophomoric in style. I was particularly unamused by the conceit of beginning each chapter with a supposed Dungeon Master refereeing a thinly veiled incident in Gary’s life. Of course, as an editor, I’ve published conceits that were just as lame (or more so) than this one (Remember my pseudonymous “The Rumor Bag” or Charles Ardai’s “Titans of the Game Industry?” in Computer Gaming World.). It’s just that I feel like that conceit was so thirty years ago. That could be just me, but it reduced my rating for this book.
My second problem with the book was the cavalier marginalizing of Dave Arneson’s contribution to the game. I’m almost as biased here toward Dave as Michael Witwer is toward Gary. I say, “almost” because I recognize the truth in a statement like “…although Arneson had great ideas, he didn’t seem to be able to put the pieces together. This is where Gary proved to be most valuable.” (p. 92, Loc 1309) Dave did some writing for me when I was at Computer Gaming World and I know that he was not the most prompt contributor in the world. I remember being amazed that someone as famous for his writing could make so many grammatical errors. As I realized how thorough his reviews were (He played one game more than 50 times that I thought exhausted its possibilities in a half-dozen tries—a political simulation called Hidden Agenda), I wrote off the missed deadlines and grammatical errors as being as irrelevant as a medical doctor’s handwriting. It became a joy just to shape his work into an orderly presentation.
But, nothing in working with Dave ever gave me the feeling that he simply sat on his hands with regard to game design. He was always demonstrating his creativity. Certainly, he told me specifically about his legal experiences with TSR—twice litigating for what he considered to be his fair share of royalties. I’m pretty sure he resented a lot of the Gary-centric aspects of TSR. One of the things I remember him saying was, “I like to think I’m the ‘father’ of D&D and Gary is the ‘mother.’” I got the feeling that he meant ‘muthah’ and intended me to fill in the last part of it. I can just hear Dave saying, “It was very much a case of me providing various ideas and concepts but not having any say as to how they were used.” (p. 100, Loc. 1413)
Please forgive the rant, but I just don’t believe the game would have happened in any sort of playable form if it hadn’t been for both of these creators. Gary may have taken control for obvious reasons, but he was building on a firm foundation. Without ideas from Wesley, Carr, and Arneson, we probably wouldn’t have role-playing as a genre in either the table-top or digital form. That being said, I learned a lot from this book—something I didn’t think possible after reading that exhaustive tome, Playing at the World (which I felt was much more even-handed in presenting its research, but it wasn’t a biography of either creator).
I didn’t realize that the United States government had sent a pair of undercover Army Intelligence agents to check out Gary’s miniatures group because they thought combat simulation games were a breeding ground for real-life insurgency (p. 79, Loc 1127). And, though I remember Dave saying that they didn’t use “funny dice” (polyhedral) until later in the process, I don’t remember reading about Gary’s coffee can with the twenty (20) numbered poker chips as the random number generator before (p. 87, Loc 1243). I did remember the folks at Flying Buffalo being very careful not to make any comparisons with Dungeons & Dragons when they spoke/wrote about either Tunnels & Trolls, Monsters, Monsters or even the later modern RPG masterpiece, Mercenaries, Spies, and Private Eyes. Apparently, they coined the phrase fantasy role-playing game after TSR threatened to litigate over “copyright infringement” when their early advertisements for Tunnels & Trolls mentioned Dungeons & Dragons (p. 128, Loc. 1766). I was glad to be reminded of this when I read Empire of Imagination.
I was somewhat surprised to read about Gary’s supposed claim that he had seen the potential in computer role-playing early on, but hadn’t had the technology or financial support to be able to invest in it (p. 203, Loc. 4846). That confused me, considering that TSR published a computer version of Dawn Patrol (aka Fight in the Skies) in the early ‘80s and Dave Arneson had published computer games like Chennault’s Flying Tigers on the Atari 8-bit as early as the late ‘70s. Dave Wesely, the referee who discovered Strategos, the 19th century rules set which inspired his Brauenstein adventure, was a partner in 4D Interactive with Arneson. So, it was possible to produce such games at a relatively low cost. I suspect that Gary just wanted to make sure he controlled his digital games after seeing how easy it was to lose control of the tabletop game. But that’s a different story. I was just surprised to read: “Gary had seen this potential in CRPGs since the late 1970s, and early issues of Dragon magazine had even featured an ongoing column about computer technology called The Modern Eye, but TSR had not been positioned technically or financially to invest in such a radical industry at the time. Now, the technology had caught up with the concept, and Gary had the capacity and desire to pursue it with full force.” (p.203, Loc 2823)
My biggest surprise, however, was to discover that after hearing stories about Gary’s prodigal years in Hollywood (from some very good sources, by the way), I was able to read: “’All I am is another fellow human that has at last, after many wrong paths and failed attempts, found Jesus Christ,’ he wrote in January…signing the email with his favorite Bible verse, Matthew 5:16.” (p. 218, Loc 3023) I knew that Dave had that conviction; it was nice to read that Gary did. How ironic that is in the light of all the accusations of Satanic worship leveled at the game over the years. Well, this is just a summary of my reaction to the book. I really liked reading about Gary’s early years and his friendship with Don Kaye, as well as reading about the Lorraine Williams era from his family’s perspective. The book was worth its price in spite of all my rants and self-indulgent observations. I have a personal investment in this history, having been the publisher of both Dragon and Dungeon at one time. Ironically, I can say that both Gary and Dave “worked for me” at one time (as freelancers for my magazines…chuckle).
Despite his large contribution to popular culture, “Gary Gygax” is not a well recognized name. I, myself, didn’t know it, but was attracted to this book from having lived 20 miles from Lake Geneva during the time a lot of this took place.
The short chapters, some foreshadowed by a Dungeons and Dragons excerpt, and author Michael Witmer’s style make this a fast reading book. In one long or a few short sittings you can learn about a lot about the creative and business life Gary Gygax (his personal life takes a back seat).
He pursued the work he loved and remained creative until his death. While he was an expert gamer, the people he brought into his enterprise and trusted took advantage; ironically he was a victim of corporate games. He could always rely on copyrights, contacts and creativity to keep him going, but the knocks were hard.
Curious things are mentioned with no detail. Examples of things that deserve at least a paragraph are: breeding Arabian horses; a cocaine habit; his first wife, mother of 5 of his children is an alcoholic; being a Jehovah's Witness (they don’t celebrate Halloween) and leaving the faith; how he gets from Dragonlands to Lake Geneva when he doesn’t drive; one minute Gail is his assistant and in the next mention they are married; how/why did he learn to make (or is it repair?) shoes?
The photos are mostly places in Lake Geneva, cover art and a few family snap shots. They seem to be what the author could get more than what the reader would like to see. I used the Index twice and both times it failed me. At the end there is a Chronology and an impressive list of Gygax’s creative output. The book does its job – it tells the story of Gary Gygax – no frills.
Witwer's biopic of Gary Gygax covers new ground by revealing Gygax as a person, while twining that together with his better known history as the creator of D&D and the founder of TSR. As a roleplaying historian myself, I found the biographic background particularly interesting (though I was familiar with most of what followed).
In general, Witwer's book offers three advantages over other takes on roleplaying history. First, it provides details; Witwer scoured interviews (and talked with people anew) to discover the texture of Gygax's life, giving it more verisimilitude. Second, it offers continuity by providing a lengthy throughline of Gygax's life and times. Third, it brings readability to this story by creating a light narrative.
I do have some issues with possible bias in the book. I disagree with the depictions of some things such as Dave Arneson, the Blumes, and AD&D second edition — all of which feel too touched by Gygax's own impressions and beliefs. I also felt that some of the broad overview at the end of the book, such as its take on the relative success of D&D 5E, didn't reveal the whole picture. With that said, I enjoyed the book and the details it provided on Gygax's life.
I played a lot of Dungeons & Dragons when I was in college. A lot—though, y'know, not as much as some people; I don't think I could ever have seriously called myself a gamer. This was all back in the early 1980s, just a few years after Ernest (Gary) Gygax's company TSR had released its much-expanded and updated rulebooks for Advanced Dungeons & Dragons (AD&D), the version we actually played. My then-girlfriend brought me into the group who had commandeered the long folding table in her dormitory's basement laundry room, where we slew monsters and gathered treasure hour after hour, after hours and far into the night.
AD&D was involved in the end of that relationship as well, as it happens. I was acting as DM (Dungeon Master) for a campaign a couple of years later, peering over a cardboard screen filled with tables and percentages, when I saw her making out with one of the other players, watching her watching me...
That didn't put me off the game, though. I did have to find another bunch to throw dice with, and later on I did drift away from role-playing games almost entirely, forsaking them for other forms of late-night activity.
I did remember AD&D fondly, enough so to introduce it to my children and their friends many years later, hauling out those old rulebooks again in the 21st Century when the kids got old enough to play... and my son's friend Joe, now a young man in his own right, remembers our campaigns fondly enough himself, when he found a copy of Michael Witwer's biography Empire of Imagination in Powell's to give me for Christmas in 2016. (Thanks, Joe!)
Gary Gygax, who died in 2008, was without doubt a complicated individual, and Michael Witwer does a thorough job of capturing the many talents and the many flaws of the man who created the first formal fantasy role-playing game. Empire of Imagination contains extensive supplemental material, as befits a book about a man who created so many supplements to his own work. Witwer includes photographs (many in color), a bibliography, and detailed endnotes that include a citation for every direct quote.
The most surprising thing (to me, at least) was that Gygax was a Jehovah's Witness—both before and to some extent after he became the creator of a game that some concerned citizens (mistakenly, Gygax always maintained) considered Satanic. Gygax himself, at least according to Witwer, never saw a conflict between his faith and his career.
I must admit that Witwer's prose is never more than workaday, even awkward at times—but never unreadable. That, and the superfluous reminders of D&D's importance, are the most obvious flaws of this biography. Witwer does spend too much time justifying Gygax's place in history—as Gygax himself said, he'd just "come up with the idea for making 'Let's Pretend' into a game and publishing it." (p.217). Even so, though, it's difficult to argue with the assertion that Dungeons & Dragons really has become an integral part of popular culture.
If you're at all interested in how Dungeons & Dragons—and the many role-playing games that followed in its tracks—came to be, Empire of Imagination will transport you to that realm... and bring you back, safe and sound, maybe even with a few more (metaphorical) gold pieces in your mental pouch.
This book is certainly not going to be for everyone, but I will admit to enjoying it a great deal myself. The fact of the matter is that its subject is probably too obscure to justify a book-length treatment, and that this treatment is handled in a manner that will inevitably turn off many readers. But, for those of us that “were there,” playing D&D in the heyday of Gygax’s control over TSR, it is a fascinating read.
I “met” Gary Gygax in August of 1985, when I attended Gen Con in Milwaukee as a teenager. Actually, it wasn’t so much a meeting as an audience – I attended a Q&A with him and asked a rather obnoxious question. My response to his answer at the time was that he was too rules-bound and attached to a limited vision of role-playing, but over the years it has stayed with me and, I think, ultimately re-shaped my understanding of the role-playing game concept. My friends and I played a version of D&D in those days that was highly improvisational and random: fun in the short term, but lacking in balance and sustainability. I now can look back and see why all those rules actually did make for a more fun experience over time. A few months later, Gygax was kicked out of his company and lost any control over the game he had invented.
This story may partially explain why, now in middle-age, I take an interest in the life of a man now dead, who peaked in his forties whose name I once cursed for his lack of imaginative freedom. Witwer tells the story in an unconventional manner, and relies heavily on interviews with friends and family members for his sources (for few others exist). He makes the story into a series of fictionalized vignettes, sprinkled with fantasy allusions that Gygax would have enjoyed. I found the early part of the book most interesting, as it describes a world I never knew: the world of gaming before Dungeons & Dragons changed it forever. I think Witwer tries a little too hard at the end (especially the final chapter) to “prove” the importance of his subject and the influence that D&D has had, but this is probably a result of the fact that this book began as a Master’s Thesis, and he was trying to meet the demand of his adviser rather than the reading public.
There are many subjects I wish he could have explored more fully. I would have especially liked a more detailed discussion of “Dragon” magazine, and the “Dungeons and Dragons” animated series, both of which I was deeply involved with as a consumer. I’m also sad that the name of Dave Trampier scarcely appears; the artist behind the cover of the original “Player’s Handbook” and the “Wormy” comic series had a fascinating and tragic life, and I would have been fascinated to know the shape of his intersection with Gygax. Still, Witwer was, as I’ve suggested, limited by his source base and the relative obscurity of his subject, and could only write about the most well-documented aspects of Gygax’s life. He has done well, and entertained me, and hopefully a few others as well.
This is more of a "Inspired by True Events" story than a biography. There are some creative licenses as far as how conversations went down or what was going on in people's heads. That is much more prevalent in the front half of the book, where the second half begins focusing more on verifiable information.
Gygax, our hero, is painted in a very good light. Certain unsavory parts of his life and of the man himself are sort of breezed past with only a minor comment, instead focusing on the significant achievements Gygax made. I understand that an author's personal admiration for the subject of their biography does influence how the subject is presented, but the clearly rose-colored presentation of Gary Gygax does make me wonder what dark details might not have even made it in.
The information was clearly well researched and I did enjoy it. I expect that as the years go on, and D&D as wells as RPGs permeate even deeper into our popular culture, we will see more biographies and histories about them and of Mr. Gygax. The number of people who can be interviewed about what happened in those early days in Gary's smoke-filled basement is shrinking, as time has already taken many from us.
Just started. Page 7: "Ironcially [sic], it was Tom's pen sketch of a werewolf [used in the first edition of D&D]."
Ok, really? We can't even run a spell check on a published book? What's even worse is that this is not ironic. Perhaps it is ironc, which is some new term which represents something other than irony.
Just for reference (from google): Ironic = happening in the opposite way to what is expected, and typically causing wry amusement because of this. His friend drawing a picture of a monster that his friend really liked for a game with monsters is not the opposite to what is expected, and did not cause any wry amusement.
Next: This is a fictionalized historic account, complete with what people were thinking. *Sigh*.
Ok, I stuck with it. It reads fairly easy, except for the occasional jarring moment, as mentioned above. The author's take on the death of Gary Gygax is so cheesy it is gag inducing.
After all that, I am going to give it 2 stars. It does provide a lot more detail on Gary Gygax that I have not seen in other books on this subject, and he was an interesting guy. And, I did finish it, which means it it cannot be that bad. Probably worth 2.5 stars if they allowed more granularity in the ratings.
Difficult to rate. Objectively, it wasn't a very good biography. It suffered from the author's efforts to create the feel of a biopic, with "scenes" from Gygax's life imagined by the author. It also left out a lot of key facts and felt somewhat disorganized, even though it was mostly chronological. There was a lot of good information, however, and I toyed with a 3 star review. It is a solid 2.5/5 in part because I find the subject matter interesting.
The other criticism I have is that this book spends at least 2 or 3 concluding chapters reflecting on the significance of Gygax's work. While there is no doubt that Gygax was instrumental in popularizing a certain genre of fantasy, particularly in the 80s and 90s, was a critical player in developing RPGs, and became a pop icon, the book overstates to a great degree his influence. All that being said, it was a reasonably enjoyable short read, and the story of the rise and fall of TSR was fun to take in.
I liked the delving down into D&D's birth and evolution, and contrary to some, I liked the chapter intro snippets that establish a little flavour. The downside is, D&D is fantasy and this is a biography of sorts, of Gygax, of Arneson, of TSR, of rpgs in general, but once the realities of lawyers, lawsuits, drugs and so on intrude, sure, it's average biography, but I wanted to just waft on sugar coating.
By adding the hard edge of uglier truths, the biographer would have to be a more accomplished biographer. Thus, for flavour, a 5, for love of subject, a 5, for grittiness without the chops to really drill down into it, a 3. Wah. Oh and totally cool cover art, even if it does shamelessly mirror Unearthed Arcana.
J'ai trouvé ça insoutenable à quel point c'était répétitif comme biographie. Tous les chapitres débutent essentiellement par un "rappelons-nous à quel point Gary Gygax est ingénieux" et terminent par un "mais les choses allaient mal virer assez vite...", ce qui est vraiment gossant quand t'as genre 50 chapitres qui font 2-3 pages en moyenne.
Aussi, le livre présente Gary Gygax comme un bon gars qui avait tellement la bonne idée, mais qui se serait fait trahir par tellement de gens vlimeux au sein de son entourage, pis esti que c'est dur à avaler quand on a des exemples à toutes les deux pages d'à quel point il pouvait être un trou de cul, surtout avec sa femme et sa famille, mais aussi à travers son ultra-capitalisme. Au final, ce que j'ai appris en lisant Empire of Imagination, c'est que j'm'en crisse un peu de Gary Gygax, mais que ça a pas besoin de m'empêcher d'aimer sa création pour autant. Aussi, ce que ça m'a appris tout en essayant de me faire croire le contraire, c'est que Donjons et Dragons, c'est juste plus vraiment Gary Gygax. C'est le monde qui ont continué de le construire. Les bases viennent de lui, mais ça l'a dépassé pis c'est mieux de même.
Hey, pis quel esti de grosse pièce de propagande libertarienne, aussi. La prochaine fois, j'lirai quelque chose d'explicitement à propos de Donjons et Dragons, plutôt que de son créateur. Des biographies à propos de gens qui sont au final rien de plus que des entrepreneurs, j'devrais jamais me plonger là-dedans.
A great biography of one of the main creators of the tabletop role-playing game "dungeons & dragons", Gary Gygax, that doubles as a good history of the tabletop RPG using Gygax's life and influence as its lens!
A very engaging and easily readable biography that made me want to do even more research into other written non-fiction material about the history of tabletop gaming!
As an avid fan of Dungeons & Dragons and RPGs in general, I've always been interested in the history of this particular hobby. And while I've read books on the origins of the game itself (Of Dice and Men), this is the first time I've seen an in-depth biography of the man who started it all.
In-depth is certainly the right term here, as we see a cross section of Gygax's entire life, from childhood to his death in 2008. There were a lot of ups and downs at work here, both in his personal and professional life, and Empire of Imagination doesn't flinch away from examining them. But neither does it linger on Gygax's failures, any more than it overemphasizes his victories. This is a balanced, respectful look at the life of a man who changed the face of pop culture forever; for the first time, I feel like I have a solid feel for the life of the proverbial "man behind the curtain."
I'd definitely recommend Empire of Imagination, if you have any interest at all in D&D. It's full of unexpected revelations, interesting details, and raises a lot of what-if questions, about where the game would be today if things had gone just a little differently. It's not a long read, but it's certainly worth your time.
This is a fantastic book that tells the story of E. Gary Gygax, the creator of Dungeons and Dragons and by extension the entire role playing genre. The biography is extremely well researched through extensive interviews with Gygax's family and coworkers. In places dialogue is constructed based upon interviewer's recollections and Gygax's writings but in all such cases the areas of extrapolation are clearly identified in the copious notes provided. If like me you grew up playing the game or if you play most any of today's modern video or role playing games you should take a look at this book and see where it all began.
I was provided an eArc through NetGalley in exchange for this review.
A collection of scenes from the life and business of E. Gary Gygax. Not a true biography - whole incidents take place between the scenes, and are not explained. More a history of Gary leading to a history of Dungeons and Dragons. There were a few anecdotes I hadn't read, and I was surprised just how instrumental he was in starting and then building GenCon.
A solid 2.4 stars, but rounded up on the Gem Appreciation table to a 3.
The semi-fictionalization of most chapters serves neither a contextualizing nor entertaining purpose, and the book lacks in so much I wanted to know about Gygax's life as a creator (and abunds in details of his life inside courts). Mind, there are some good parts and it's very well researched (though there are some ghastly a-scientifical claims here and there), but if you're a D&D nostalgic who's on the fence about reading this, re-read Elemental Evil instead.
Out of a love of gaming and adventure, Gary Gygax built a dream of books, dice, and friends. It began with chess against his grandfather, and it flourished with tabletop war games. He could not have known at the time the phenomenon that Dungeons and Dragons would become, but he was determined to make his dream a reality. In spite of intentions, creativity is never painless, and priorities can be difficult to balance. Through financial and familial struggles, sometimes flying and often falling, Gygax put himself through the mill right beside his beloved game, all the way to the table.
Let's get this out of the way, first and foremost. I love Dungeons and Dragons. I have played three editions over the past ten or so years, and have since delved into other various role-playing systems. But you always remember your first Doctor [Eccleston], and Dungeons and Dragons will always hold a large, icosahedronal space in my heart. (Yes, I'm not ashamed to admit it. I looked up that word and probably still bastardized the poor thing.) So, I love the game, I like biographies, and I was rather interested in learning more about the origins of both game and creator. Win, win, win.
Sadly, no. While the book is informative, the structure is poor. A framing device of a game session in play, presented script-style felt distracting and tangential, at best. Gygax's early years take up a good 70 pages of about 245, presented in episodic vignettes that struggle to feel cohesive. Most of the chapters of the book fit into the 3-5 page range, making it feel piecemeal. It was almost as though I was reading a collection of independently-written short essays cobbled* together into a biographical...something.
Take a look at that last word, there. That's what this book is. It's something. It has essays, stories, vignettes, lists, all the wordy-bits that could make it something else, but what? Gygax was not a well-known man the way another biographical subject might have been. The stories presented from his youth could not provide much more than what we were given - that is no fault of the author. But the whole presentation was a bit of a mess. The book opens with Gygax getting the boot from TSR. Then it works its way through a brief walking-tour of memories. Then it starts, all over again, from the beginning. Each chapter could be a different introduction to the same book, just one that chose to start at a different time. On top of that, even in the later chapters, you were always given a sort of dramatic tagline, a hook to keep you reading. A sort of "little did he know" moment.
I don't know about you, but feeling like someone is trying to sell me on continuing to read a book that I am already dozens of pages into wears on my nerves. I'm still not really certain what I was reading, anyway. It wanted to be a dramatization, but it fell into the rut of lists and info dumps. It wanted to be a biography, but it was speckled with figurative language and embellishment. It wanted to be fun and interesting in content and structure, but it tripped over the timeline and distracted from its own progress. It wanted to tell the story of a struggling genius burdened with the untold weight of creativity, but it was telling the story of a struggling man who could not find a healthy balance between work and play and responsibilities slowly tearing his life apart.
It wanted to be a loving homage to a man who gave a lot of people something to love and share. Well, here, perhaps, it succeeded. The author clearly loves the gaming world created by Gygax and his fellow enthusiasts back in the day. Great attention was paid to gather information and disperse it, but in being a loving homage to a great creator, it sidesteps some of the aspects that could show him as less than a good man. Rather than a real biography, it feels a bit like a fluff-piece that is written more as advertising than informing. The glasses are perhaps not rose-tinted, the charm spell not cast at a high level, but there is certainly an air of prestidigitation tidying things up a little too casually.**
But I suppose I had some warning that it was not going to be a traditional biography. Perhaps it was my fault for not taking the Author's Note seriously. I don't know. It was a rough read, and I'm glad that I learned more about the history of one of my hobbies. There is good information to be found, some fun factoids to share. I am, however, also glad to just get back to the game.
*It's (not) funny, because he worked as a cobbler. **You didn't think I'd make it all the way through without being a nerd at you, did you? Gee, I hope not.
A fascinating and revealing look at the life of Gary Gygax, from birth to death, and very much warts and all. Unfortunately it's rather let down by the decision to mix the facts and direct quotes with fictional dialogue and emotions. This sort of thing can be done well, for example in the work of Laura Hillenbrand (Seabiscuit, Unbroken), but here Witwer's amateurish writing is often a distraction.
Empire of Imagination: Gary Gygax and the Birth of Dungeons & Dragons is a stylized biography of the man behind the popular roleplaying game known as DND. (You can blame him when I decline Thursday night happy hours because my hipster cleric is trying to save the princess, rescue townsfolk, and convert all the ogres of Rokugan.)
Despite having played Dungeons & Dragons for several years now, my knowledge of Gygax’s life was sorely lacking. Empire of Imagination tells the story behind the story, and the story behind all of the stories that players create on a daily basis.
Ernest Gary Gygax was born to an working class immigrant family in Chicago, but grew up in the idyllic small town of Lake Geneva. Empire of Imagination begins with Gary’s childhood adventures, inspired by Robert E. Howard and similar authors of pulp fiction, and then progresses to his marriage, early career, and burgeoning role in the gaming community. He was an artist and a dreamer rather than a businessman, which led to troubled relationships and financial woes even as his games rose in popularity. This nature was both a bug and a feature, leading to both is greatest creations and his biggest failures.
The book opens as Gary is about to lose control of TSR, the company he founded to produce Dungeons & Dragons. Then it flashes back to the main body of the story. Between each chapter, there’s a stylized section that’s narrated as if it were part of a game of DnD, as the DM (here, a metaphor for God, fate, or what have you) throws new obstacles into Sir Egary’s path. Sir Egary reacts and casts his dice, paralleling the way that Gary navigates the troubles found in his own life. I love it when authors do creative things with literary form, especially in nonfiction, and so I found this structure intriguing, if not a little cliche. *rolls d20 to determine what aspect of the book to talk about next*
Even though this biography is stylized and told through vignettes based upon source material, the characters don’t jump off the page and aren’t fully fleshed out. It sticks very clearly to what happens, not necessarily the whys and the hows of interpersonal relationships. The book hints, but it doesn’t take the extra step and dive deep. For example, the book largely glosses over Gary’s marital troubles, stating the bare minimum to convey the big changes in their relationship rather than extrapolating upon the progression of the relationship’s deterioration. Gary’s wife didn’t feel like a complete character, and didn’t seem to have agency until the couple split. I felt as if some of the stylization made the book feel like a weak novel rather than a strong biography, but was able to forgive it because I do welcome experimental writing.
Even though I felt like the interpersonal relationships in the book were not fully explored or developed, Witwer has a knack for understanding and conveying corporate shenanigans that’s easy to understand even for audiences who aren’t so heavily involved in the business world (much like Gary himself).
Overall, I’m glad that I read Empire of Imagination, and would recommend it to anyone who wanted to learn more about Gygax’s life. It’s not the greatest biography I’ve ever read, but it’s an insight into the creator of DnD, and for that I will gladly forgive its flaws.
(Reprinted from the Chicago Center for Literature and Photography [cclapcenter.com]. I am the original author of this essay, as well as the owner of CCLaP; it is not being reprinted illegally.)
Make no mistake, Michael Witwer's Empire of Imagination is a fascinating book, merely from it being the first-ever full biography of Gary Gygax, creator of Dungeons & Dragons and inventor of the very concept of "roleplaying games." And it's an unexpected story, too, far from the "accidentally hit it big then had it all snatched away" tale that my friends and I knew as teen D&D players in the 1970s and '80s; in fact, even by the 1960s, Gygax was nationally known as one of the most inventive innovators among the miniatures-based historical-reenactment board games that eventually produced D&D's fan base, with D&D itself being the result of years of hard work and incremental changes through rigorous play-testing (including Gygax already running several national gaming conventions before ever releasing D&D), and with the company's eventual dissolution into a corporate pawn largely being the result of the founders' own mismanagement, flame-war-like personal distrust of each other (exacerbated by the sheer number of autistic personalities among the company's upper staff), and the excesses that came with suddenly rich nerds meeting the '70s counterculture. (In fact, one of the most shamefully delightful parts of this book is the chapter covering Gygax's move to Los Angeles to head up TSR's new Hollywood division, where according to Witwer he bought a mansion in Beverly Hills, regularly partook of cocaine, and did voluntary work for beauty pageants so he could hang out with starlets.)
It's a complicated and riveting story that just keeps giving, all the way up to Gygax's death in the early 2000s, that I'm glad I finally had a chance to understand in detail; so what a shame, then, that the novice journalist Witwer (this is his first book, based on a master's thesis he did in college) decided to write the whole thing in the style of narrative fiction, taking all the true facts then writing it out as if it was a novel we were following along with, ascribing actions and dialogue to the real people involved that may or may not have ever happened, and that turns the entire manuscript into this schmaltzy mess that is difficult to get through. (So for one good example, instead of simply stating, "Gygax and his childhood friends used to enjoy exploring the abandoned health spas from Lake Geneva's Victorian glory years," Witwer writes an entire chapter actually examining this exploration as if it were a cheesy short story, adding lines like, "Gary thought to retort, but he could see by Don's expression that he would have to lead this operation" that Witwer couldn't possibly know whether actually happened or not.) The cumulative effect is to effectively ruin whatever enjoyment could've come from a straightforward telling of Gygax's story, a story that's already so complicated and interesting that no embellishments like these are needed; and it's almost a crime that this has to be enjoyed despite the way the author wrote it instead of because of the way he did. It's still worth picking up, not just for gamers but those interested in 1980s popular culture; just be warned that reading it is going to be a frustrating experience.
An unvarnished telling of the life of Gary Gygax, Empire of Imagination is well written and easy reading. Witwer thoroughly documents his sources, which is helpful for further research by the reader, but more importantly it provides substantion for the multiple 'pseudo-fictional' parts of the narrative where Witwer chooses to imagine the words and thoughts of Gygax and others based on conversations/interviews that often occurred many years after the events depicted.
I have not played D&D for more than 3 decades, but I chose to read this book as a reminisence and to learn more about the creation of D&D as well as other TSR games. For a few brief years in my early teens D&D, followed by Metamorphosis Alpha and Gamma World, played a significant part in my leisure time.
I enjoyed learning so much of the back story behind the role playing game industry. The book has sad and happy moments, triumphs and tragedies. Gygax is shown as creative, talented, and brilliant, but also flawed (drug use and affairs spoiled his first marriage).
Highly recommended reading for all past and present RPG enthusiasts.
Great on details and biographical notes, though a bit more of a hagiography than an objective bio.
Too many things just seem to happen to Gygax rather than delving deep into details and particulars of Gygax's actions or others; this may stem from the author's personal interviews and whom he chose to interview. Still, there's a lot of particulars glossed over while presenting things as simple fact that were hardly that (from my understanding and 3rd-hand knowledge).
My worries of authorial bias also crept in with more than a few mentions of AD&D 2nd Edition's "failures" and "lukewarm reception," which was wholly untrue and grossly overstated, as it was a boom-time for AD&D from 1990-1994 or so from my experience. Again, this perception might stem from whom the author chose to interview and/or my limited view of the company as an R&D editor/designer without access to the company's financial books.
Even so, a good read to learn many details previously unknown about EGG and the birth of the RPG market(s).
First off, I have been playing RPG's since 1981 when my father introduced me to Dungeons and Dragons (the original "gray box") and knew a lot about Gary, Dave and the formative days of TSR and (A)D&D but this book laid bare all of the man's faults, foibles, and mistakes on how he handled his business practices. Gary was a lot of things, with a human being the greatest of them and despite the previous issues, he generally cared about the craft and wanted to see the world of fantasy roleplaying succeed well beyond the borders of the table.
I had a chance to meet him and Dave Aronson (separately) over the years and both were just fun, down to earth people who loved what they did. I am proud to have been published in Dungeon and to have been a part of the history of D&D prior to the WOC takeover (and after) and if you want to see the hard work (and heartache) that went into the early years of D&D, then this is the book for you.
I wanted to rate this higher but inane syrupy and cringeable mock gameplay for each section was too dreadful to warrant more stars.
I had high hopes for this book and it didn't quite deliver. It gives a cursory going over of Gygax's life and what lead to the creation of Dungeons and Dragons and the forming of TSR. Sadly it never gets deeper than that. There is no deep discussion of how much was Gygax's work and how much was Dave Arnason. There is no recounting of how his 2nd wife became his wife or how he reconciled with his children only that he did so. This book had too much of a cut and slash approach to it. I wanted more depth and a more coherent narrative.
When it works it does tell a tale of a dreamer and avid game enthusiast who created the Role Playing Game genre and nearly singlehandedly affected millions of people.
I would only recommend this book for folks who were directly influenced by Gygax, folks who grew up playing roleplaying games and other such nerdery. To be honest, the story isn't super riveting - it's just one dude's life. But I still felt a weird affinity for it and enjoyed it more than I really thought I would, to be honest.
One thing I liked: How in the very first D&D campaign, you are seeing players get up to the ridiculousness that came to define it. Coming up with silly names, usually based on your own. Playing out bizarre situations that probably threw off the DM's whole plot. Taking over stuff that you probably weren't supposed to take over. It's proof that the point of roleplaying isn't the plot, but just folks dicking around together in a really imaginative way.
As an avid D&D player since 1980, this book was wonderful to learn the how and why of certain things which were never clear, like WHY AD&D was invented with D&D already existing. Or why 2nd edition came out or why Gary Gygax left TSR. Good stuff herein.
But two things trouble me. First, the book's staccato tone (chapters rarely go over 4 pages) gave Gary's life a really broken up feel.
And secondly, despite the author's attempts to paint Gary in a positive light, it definitely seems like he was something of a crappy dad, crappy husband, crappy employee, crappy partner and crappy boss. I'm very glad he invented D&D out of Dave Arneson's scraps of notes. But I don't think he will occupy the position of worshipfulness he had heretofore. And that is a little bit sad.