In the Grand Scheme of Things

 “The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living.”

— Cicero

Several weeks ago I was reminded how minuscule our adventure gaming hobby appears in the face of the many other seemingly far more important subjects society prioritizes. Prolific Games Workshop fantasy illustrator John Blanche died on June 1, 2026. And French-Iranian author, activist, and filmmaker Marjane Satrapi died on June 4, 2026. Someone somewhere in my social media feed commented how John Blanche’s passing received little notice when compared to Satrapi’s. I experienced some of their work, Blanche’s in my formative gaming years and Satrapi’s only recently. They each had a profound impact on the way I viewed various aspects of my world. Yet the treatment of their passing was telling. Many in the adventure gaming hobby remembered Blanche. Satrapi enjoyed greater fame from her graphic novels about her youth in Iran, Yet for a majority of people, especially in America, neither name held any significance. It’s a sad reminder how extremely niche entertainment like graphic novels and adventure games garner very little attention compared to far more popular and lucrative forms like sports, movies, and television (or their lamentable 21st century equivalents). Yet their work and presence affect the lives of a small portion of us...and for that we celebrate them.

I first encountered John Blanche’s artwork in Steve Jackson’s Sorcery! series of solitaire gamebooks. I spent an entire summer in high school devouring them, my characters meeting numerous grisly ends as I fumbled through various quests. Blanche’s evocative pen and ink art (and his color cover illustrations) brought the setting to life. I can still picture several illustrations in my head. They were filled with ornate architecture, novel interpretations of fantasy creatures, perspectives drawing viewers into the scene, and all the fantastical hats. Many character wore some kind of imaginative headgear beyond their meticulously detailed clothing, armor, and gear. His style exaggerated the grotesque, focused on fine detail, and always held a sense of impending menace. Most folks remember Blanche for his Warhammer artwork that defined the setting; while I dabbled in Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay years ago (and still have the rulebook), Blanche’s art from Sorcery! remains foremost in my mind to this day. It defined the Sorcery! Game world, and influenced my forays into the Fighting Fantasy game books. I will always associate it with the halcyon gaming days from my high school years.

My interest in Marjane Satrapi’s work is far more recent. In the past year or so I noticed the graphic showing her photograph and her words about our similarities as people and the vast differences between citizens and their governments. It resonated with me, especially considering the increasing propagandist use of hate by one party in American politics. My generation grew up seeing the Iranian revolution and the hostage crisis unfold on television. I remember seeing yellow ribbons tied to trees, sign posts, even telephone poles in remembrance and support of their plight. I recall the news shots of their return on busses as crowds cheered them. Iran has always lurked in the background of the international scene, not as prominently as communism and Russia, but there nonetheless. I recall seeing horrifying photos in National Geographic from the Iran-Iraq war of the wounded and maimed, including a room full of used prosthetic legs. Satrapi’s quote humanized ordinary Iranians. They’re people like us, often held in thrall to the inconsiderate edicts of powerful governments. So I found a copy of her graphic novel, Persepolis (both parts) and read them. I’d also just read Art Spiegelman’s Maus after seeing a PBS documentary on him; I’m not a huge comics or graphic novel reader, but these two titles seemed like required reading for our time. Persepolis is Satrapi’s reflection on her youth coming of age in the shadow of the revolution and the subsequent Islamic fundamentalist regime. For Americans, who’ve mostly lived in sheltered security and stability, her story remains a chilling reminder of how repressive governments can ruin lives...and how we share many similarities with ordinary citizens around the world. Her basic artistic style still infused the narrative with powerful, haunting images; situations and restrictions I’ve often dreaded from right-wing extremist governments.

When these two luminaries passed away within days of each other, the overall coverage was uneven, both from the perspective of those familiar with the cultural niches of roleplaying games and graphic novels and certainly on the grand scale of entertainment and news in general. I first heard of their deaths in my social media feeds, populated by like-minded folks who follow many of the same topics that interest me. I tracked down remembrances for both people to educate myself about their impact beyond that of my own life. My principle online news source, The Guardian (US), ran several pieces on Satrapi, an initial report of her death, an official obituary, and a feature in the book section. All this reminded me how marginal our hobbies (and for some, our professions) seem in the greater scheme of things.

The Guardian reminds me how society orders a hierarchy of interest for its readers. Obviously, as a “newspaper,” it leads with a flood of the most pressing stories from the realm of American national and world news. Occasionally other features or news of note from less-important fields infiltrate the “hard” news, sometimes noteworthy stories about sports, entertainment, or culture. “More top stories” follow with additional news coverage of secondary and tertiary interest. Then, of course, the largest and most popular entertainment topic of sports, often superseded by coverage of massive sporting events like the Olympics or World Cup. Opinion and analysis pieces come next, a natural follow-on to the main news of the day though eclipsed by sports. I love how the “Culture” section leads off with key features, but then quickly prioritizes stories into more personalized suggestions: “What to watch,” “What to listen to,” and then, in smaller headlines, “What to read” and “What to play.” I often take umbrage with this last category, since it invariably highlights video games; while I don’t have anything against electronic games, it rarely mentions tabletop games (and what I’ve seen amounts to “top 10” lists of various vanilla titles). Finally, and thankfully almost last, the “Lifestyle” section offers suggested products and practices across the entire spectrum of improving readers’ lives.

Society as a whole views entertainment like tabletop games and graphic novels as still very much insignificant, quaint deviations from normality worthy of occasional note, especially to highlight their otherness rather than their ingenuity and relevance to our lives. Graphic novels still suffer from a stigma that they’re “comic books” while games face a serious stigma that they’re simply for play and the purview of children.

Certainly I wish tabletop gaming played a more prominent role in various aspects of our society — as entertainment, for training, in education at all levels — just as I think graphic novels can also serve those areas, especially in encouraging literacy, imagination, and compassion among young people. I’m at a loss to consider ways to bring these topics to greater prominence in our society. Surely libraries have helped by including graphic novels as a young adult literary category and, less so, encouraging tabletop gaming events and even circulating collections. My own efforts to infuse gaming into various local institutions — the local library, museum, schools — has remained only slightly satisfying and more often frustrating. Few people view “games” as anything but passing and superficial entertainment and not engaging entry points to deeper discussion, reflection, and learning.

I lament those who create such fare as tabletop games, graphic novels, and other peripheral entertainment remain ignored or forgotten by society as a whole. I wish we could focus more on what brings people joy and purpose, once, of course, we make an effort to ensure everyone has stability of income, housing, food, and security. Society as a whole might not remember the creators who bring joy and meaning into our world; what matters is how each of us remembers and honors them and their contribution to the enrichment of our own lives.

“By recollecting the pleasures I have had formerly, I renew them, I enjoy them a second time.”

— Casanova