![]() There’s never a wrestling match with a fanged grad school quandary or a gauntlet of snarling obversions, syllogisms, and transpositions. It’s never on the lips of the tatty-trousered or fancy-bonneted citizens that frequent Albion’s muddy lanes and cobblestone boulevards, sighing and dreaming out loud and occasionally pausing to hail or curse your titled good name (“Lionheart”? “Dog Lover”?). You’re not expected to answer much less ask those sorts of questions as you’re traipsing about Fable II’s glamorous bosky timberlands and gassy bogs bedding lovers, raising kids, chasing dogs, and dispatching trolls with roots sprouting from their heads like dreadlocks. ![]() ![]() “What is history,” asked Napoleon, “but a fable agreed upon?” What is reality, to extend the metaphor, but group subscriber fiction? What is a video game about a yokel who eventually pulls himself up by several dozen designer-dyed pairs of bootstraps to save the world, but an echo of an atavistic power fantasy?ĭon’t worry. While most of us probably think of fables as charming if occasionally eerie bedtime morality tales packing cliched life lessons like rubber bullets, the term is also occasionally used in a more disparaging sense to connote something false, or put a bit more generously, something that’s not exactly true. ![]()
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