Page 10 - The New Zork Times - Spring 1985
Copyright (c) 1985 Infocom, Inc.
Sasha Blunderbraas: Prima Virtuosa
_by S. Eric Merescu_
At the age of nine, Sasha Blunderbraas toured the courts of Europe,
playing _Adventure_ for the royalty. At the age of twelve, he stunned
the continent by solving the entire SAGA series in two hours and seven
minutes. Two years ago, his performance of _Starcross_ at the Albert
Hall received a forty-five minute standing ovation. His videotapes
have sold forty-million copies. When great interactive fiction
players are discussed, Blunderbraas stands apart from the rest, a
class unto himself. Where does someone go from the top?
_The lights dim, and an expectant hush settles over the
standing-room-only crowd at Carnegie Hall. They await his appearance
with bated breath, their eager faces illuminated with a ghostly blue
from the projection TVs, displaying the bootscreen of_ Zork I.
Blunderbraas seems so ordinary, sitting in his midtown hotel room in
blue-jeans and a T-shirt, sipping a can of soda. It's hard to believe
that this unassuming figure is the genius whose name is synonymous
with performing interactive fiction. "People are always surprised at
my appearance when they see me for the first time, " explains
Blunderbraas, almost apologetically. "I think they expect someone
taller, more commanding, with unkempt wild hair and a look of near
madness in his eyes. I'm actually just pretty ordinary looking."
_The huge hall erupts with applause as Blunderbraas strides onto the
stage, and it's easy to see why so many people have a bigger than
life-size image of the master, as fifty-foot television screens
capture him as he walks over to the waiting computer._
Blunderbraas swills the soda around in his mouth, pondering his
answer. "Why _Zork I_ again? Well, to tell you the truth, I've
always had a particular fondness for its simplicity of structure.
It's an almost perfect piece, and of course it's very accessible to
audiences, which explains its tremendous popularity. With its very
first three words, West of House, a familiar mood is established,
forming a common meeting ground for audience and performer."
_As Blunderbraas flips back his tails and settles onto the computer
stool, a dead silence falls over the room. There is an electrifying
moment while Blunderbraas seems frozen, his hands poised over the
keyboard. Then with a crash of the keys, he's off and running, with
the swift, steady inputs that are his trademark._
"I love to play Carnegie Hall," explains Blunderbraas, skirting the
question of why he is touring again after two years of
semi-retirement. "Its age, its ornateness, juxtaposed against the
modern simplicity of the computer, creates an image of contradiction
that frequently inspires me in my performance." A smile portends the
release of a bauble from the stored wisdom of the master. "The great
Wilbur Kleister once called our art 'using illogic to untwist logical
contradictions.' I was never sure what he meant by that until the
first time I played Carnegie."
_The opening moves of_ Zork I _are standard, familiar to almost
everyone, but already Blunderbraas has the audience gasping at his
innovation, his daring twists and turns. His use of abbreviation
during the troll battle leaves an unsuspecting woman in the front row
on the verge of tears. The performance is still in its first minute,
and already the audience's emotions are putty in the master's hands._
Traffic noise from Fifth Avenue is the only sound as Blunderbraas
chews thoughtfully at the hot, bubbling, room service pizza. "I'd be
lying if I said the audience reaction doesn't affect me. There's a
bond there, and even though my concentration, my top-level thought, is
fixed on that story, there's a secondary level of thought that is fed,
nourished, and inspired by the level of electricity in the theatre."
_As the emerald joins sixteen other treasures in the trophy case, an
almost electric tremor ripples through the audience. The audience can
sense history in the making; performances such as this one come only
once in a lifetime. A man in the audience grabs his stunned wife's
arm. "Not since the great Kleister have I seen such a magnificent use
of AGAIN!" he murmurs._
"You hear this, you read that, what does it matter?" Blunderbraas
asks, shrugging off the suggestion that his performance at Carnegie
Hall was his greatest ever. "Am I better than Kleister? Maybe, maybe
not. Was Carnegie last night better than Albert Hall two years ago?
Maybe, maybe not. Why should I ask myself questions I cannot answer?"
_There are no surprises left. Blunderbraas skillfully sweeps the
audience forward with his final, brilliant inputs. As the closing
words of the story appear on the screen, and the barrow door crashes
shut, the enthralled multitude is drawn to its feet as though by a
single cord. As Blunderbraas turns for his bows, the room thunders
with applause that threatens to bring down the walls. It rolls on and
on, resounding around the room, propelling the evening's performance
down the corridor of time, toward a pedestal of greatness it has
already earned._
His agent appears at the door, reminding Blunderbraas of the impending
flight. The master agrees to a final question. What's next for the
man who is, if not unequalled in the annals of his art, at least
unsurpassed? More performances? More tours, tapes, training? An
autobiography? "Just now, I mostly want to go home, lie around on the
beach, putter around my garden. When I feel the need to perform
again, I will perform again." He reaches for his jacket and knapsack.
"By the way," he asks. "Do you know when the next _Hitchhiker's_ game
will be out?"
