Making of: Saints Game

By Al Preston

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Now live, Saints Game is a text-based adventure game where you, the player, get to be a transgender medieval saint!

            How’d you like it?

            I love stories. My very first professional historian-in-training research paper was on the topic of transgender saints. At the time, I was desperately searching for people like me in history. My professor, a Medievalist, asked me what I wanted to research. I said, ‘something gay’ and he just nodded.

            He was a very cool man and a great teacher. Despite knowing very little about the topic of queerness in the medieval period, he was more than willing to help me. He just stressed the importance of language and defining what I meant by ‘gay’ or ‘transgender’. This was also the first time I was taught that our modern views and ideas cannot be fully transposed onto the past.

            We can understand that someone who chose to start a new life in a new city as a gender that opposed the one they were given at birth would be considered transgender today, but they would have never considered themselves that. Gender is a construct of time and place and nowhere is that truer than in the medieval period.

            The Western European Medieval period was a wild one. Rome had fallen. The once wonderful and great civilization split in two then ceased to exist. Thus leaving behind a previously colonized Europe to fend for itself. This period was even noted as being the worst time by the people living it.

            While Christianity had flourished, taking over Europe as the main religion, the people in charge (I.E. kings and high religious officials) were in agreement that their current times were worst. Compared with the philosophical and inspired times of the Romans, Medieval Europe was in a literal Dark Age. The people were dumb. The governments were fighting. Jesus’s hometown was owned by someone not Christian, and it was a problem that obviously had to be solved by the Crusades (about eight of them).

             Needless to say, no one particularly liked the Medieval period, especially the people living it. There were plagues and wars and not much of worth was accomplished. Unless, of course, you ask some modern-day medieval historians.

            Medievalists are some of the oddest folks I’ve ever met. My professor fondly talked about fist fights in the parking lots of conferences over when, exactly, Rome fell. He had my class recreate a medieval battle in the snow just for fun. But they were on to something.

            Saints were all the rage in the medieval period. They could heal the sick, perform the same miracles as Jesus, and were, in general, pretty great. By now, you’ve heard or played through some of their lives (I hope). Even after death their holy bones were healing people (and occasionally cursing them).

            I was hooked the moment I realized there were saints just like me. About five or six, that I found anyway. One of the many ways Saints stories were widely told to laypeople was through specific holy days dedicated to particular saints. Much like we have Valintine’s day (what a saint story to look up!) or, sillier, talk like a pirate day; the medieval period had days to (one of many) Saint Peter. Or, to the purpose of this project. Saint Eugenia.

            There are only a few transgender saints, but they had their own days like everyone else. These saints were also only female to male transgender (to put it into our terms). There were no men putting on dresses and entering a nunnery. There are many arguments as to why that is, but the most frequent suggestion is that this is because women did not have as much power in or out of the church. It wouldn’t make a very fun story if the Saint just went to the nunnery and wasn’t allowed to do anything at all.

            Another layer to this is that many saints were local heroes or religious figures missionaries co-opted to convert pagans (basically anyone not Christian) to Christianity. These transgender saints, we believe, were based on the Greek and Roman muses who were known for not having particularly strict gender roles.

            So, there’s a few things going on here. My paper argued that despite there being very little record of transgender-like people in the medieval period, the concept was there. There was an acknowledgement of the ability to gender bend, and some level of acceptance in that. There is no way to know how much that translated to the real world, but it is fun to look at.

            Prior research into these saints made the bold claim that these saints showcased that women did have power in the church. I mean, look! They could become men, and God said it was cool (which is an oversimplification, but it would take a while to explain their theses here)!

            I argued the opposite. Sadly. All of the stories are pretty identical, give or take a plot point or two. The important part was the ending. If the saint wasn’t outed at death, they were outed with plenty of life ahead of them. However, their story ended when their perceived maleness did. Once an Abbess, the saint lost the unspoken power their maleness gave them and was no longer interesting. Most stories at that point ended after two more sentences; “They healed people. Their body healed people. The end.”

            It’s kind of sad, really. And, if you’ve played Saints Game to find multiple endings, you’ll notice a few that reflect this. The True Ends are the only ending of the game that is as realistic as I could get it. If you follow the paths of least resistance throughout the game; going to see the camp of Christians, talking to the monks or your servants to get to the monastery, choosing to console your father no matter what kind of monk you were—that’s it. You followed a saint’s story nearly exactly as I read it when I first started my research.

            It’s a sad ending, isn’t it? You make it through your life, finally in a place where you feel right and can do as God asks of you. Finally, you can worship him and help people. You’ve helped your father; you’ve made it to old age. The only thing you request from your father, someone you’ve befriended and have great respect from, is to not let them find out you are hiding a woman’s body under your robes. That you are, in fact, his long-lost daughter. Please don’t tell anyone.

            The moment you pass. The first thing your father does…is to tell everyone. Put into a tight spot, the monastery keeps your saintly work intact, but under your female name. All traces of the person you actually wanted to be erased, and your bones are put to work healing whoever shows up and prays to them. It’s a little heartbreaking.

            The game has a multitude of endings (did you find them all?). One of my favorites is the one at the very beginning. There is exactly one path that leads you to the Unreal Ending. The ending I was hoping to get when I started to read those saints’ lives. The one where you slip by undetected. You spread God’s word. You spend your days in a comfortable and happy way. And you die as you wished to live, a holy man.

            This game was a blast to make. Please check it out if you have some time. I can guarantee it’s not a long play. You could—sneak around your house! Or try and figure out how to heal someone. Or be taken to court!

            More about Twine itself will be forth coming if you want to know more about that specifically. There’s also a podcast episode dedicated to transgender saints if you want to hear their stories.

            I hope you enjoy everything this game has to offer!