How Dark Souls Uses Layers in its Story Telling, and Why Writers Should Take Notice
Can I say that this is the Dark Souls of Medium articles? No? Ok
There is only one franchise that can get away with no explanations about its world or story, cryptic or downright confusing descriptions, a depressing atmosphere and, of course, difficulty so hard you want to throw your controller at the TV.
We love you Dark Souls, I know you hate us, but we still love you.
However, isn’t it weird that these games are so popular? You can complete the whole series without knowing what’s happening. In fact, I would say that 90% of people who play this games, used YouTube as their main source of context — I have no data to back this up, but I can feel it in my gut.
So what is it that draws us in? Why do we want to keep digging? Well, I think I have an answer.
Layers
Now, I hope you don’t think I brought you here to tell you about the iceberg theory. This isn’t selective omission, it's parallelization. Let me explain.
These games have four layers of depth. The first one is “the current story”, in which you are an undead or unkindled looking for something. The cure to the undead course, the first flame, whatever.
Since traveling is the main goal, the game does everything it can to prevent you from succeeding. That challenge to reach your destination is what makes the first layer and also, the main story of the game.
You can, if you want, stay here. Focus on your story and give it the ending you like. However, you can also step into the second layer, “the story of the place”.
Every area you explore has an individual story. One of my personal favorites from the first game, is The Ruins of New Londo. A once prosper city that was flooded, and now is being hunted by the ghosts of its inhabitants.
Of course, the first time you get here, you don’t know this, and you are like: “Why are there ghost?, why can’t I kill them?, why is everything so dark?, and why am I dead?” The only way to answer those questions is by reading descriptions or paying attention to the area; in other words, entering the second layer.
But it goes even further.
The third layer is “the broader story”. Now don’t kill me?! I know it’s sounding a lot like the iceberg theory, but it isn’t. In the iceberg, you omit information that can easily be assumed. Here, you hide the information so that the player has to search for it.
Knowing the story of an area is just the first step. You might understand where the ghosts are cumming from, but who put the city there, and why?
It’s also important to note that all the pieces are there. If you read all the documents, kill all the bosses and finish all the side quests, you can get a pretty good understanding of what’s going on. In the iceberg, the information is either not in the story or it’s left open. Some things are also left open here, but never the broad story.
Finally, there is the fourth layer, “the meaning of it all”. All good stories have a deeper meaning, but the beauty of the layers is that you can see a different message depending on how far you get.
If you only care about the current story, you will get a message about perseverance in the face of great difficulty. If you step on the second layer, you might get a message of hopelessness and pain. And if you venture into the third layer, you could see how the game understands the cycle of life, and how our ego can corrupt it into something atrocious. Or at least, that’s how I see it.
Applying it to books
So, how do you use this in your writing? Well, you might’ve heard of a little series that uses something very similar, A Song of Ice and Fire. Pretty obvious, I know, but it’s the best example.
You have your main plot, revenge, killing the Lannisters, braking chains, etc. Then, locations and families have their own lore, that lore is connected to the broad history of the setting, and everything has a meaning. Perfect.
However, most go wrong in the layering. Makes sense, if you go through the trouble of crating all that lore, you want the reader to hear about it. But this can lead to the monster under every writer’s bed, the info dump.
Now, to be clear, there is nothing wrong with info dumping. It can be done beautifully, and some classics are loaded with info dumps. In fact, you could argue that some dialogs in Dark Souls are info dumps. The problem is, if you abuse, your story won’t have layers because everything will be out in the open.
Also, some writers chose to explicitly communicate the meaning of the story. Take for example Interstellar and its infamous line: “Love is the one thing we are capable of perceiving that transcends dimensions of time and space”. That is some forth layer stuff out in the open.
And again, there is nothing wrong with that, but if the audience is given the meaning straight away, it doesn’t have a reason to investigate deeper. And investigating is fun!
This is why these franchises that use layers have huge communities. People enjoy exchanging information and discussing over what theories are true. If everything is out on the surface, there is no need for exploration.
So how can you create layers in a book?
George R.R. Martin is an expert at this. People give him a lot a shit for going into detail about things that seem unimportant. Especially food. The books are full of long descriptions about the feasts that the characters are having. What they fail to realize is that he is using those descriptions to tell us about the world and its traditions. It enriches the second layer, which creates expectations for the third layer. And they may be long, but they are not forced like an info dump because they are somewhat related to what’s happening. The craziest part is that, it's just food!
The way a door is shaped, the books in someone's room, the dirt on the floor, everything has the potential to tell a story. Recognizing those details that can help you shape your layers, is one of the greatest abilities a fiction writer can have.
And remember, all great stories have a deeper meaning.
