Chutes and Ladders
Board games, at least during game time, can be absolutely
transformative. They can turn a gentle soul into a stop-at-nothing
competitor. They can drive an ethical person to cheat, make someone
quiet cry out in unfettered glee or rage—depending on how the cards
fall or the dice are thrown. The person who always has a kind word
handy can turn smug and sarcastic, or your curmudgeonly aunt can turn
into a giggling, fun-to-be-around, general kick in the pants.
Though the effects of games are usually temporary, it’d be nice if
every once in a while, they lasted longer than just an hour or two—the
curmudgeonly aunt would giggle the rest of the night through, or the
little morality instructions that a Chutes and Ladders player learns
would actually rub off. Think of it: arrange the kids around the Chutes
and Ladders board and let the game do the rest. Parents can free
themselves up from the tricky, time-consuming stuff like imparting
morality and integrity, and go straight to the fun stuff—like soccer
games and birthday parties at the skate rink! Thank you, Milton Bradley.
Chutes and Ladders began, believe it or not, in ancient India,
where it was used to teach Hindu children about right and wrong. The
bases of the ladders stood on squares that symbolized different types
of good, and then there were slippery snakes (that’s right—it was
snakes back then, not chutes) that snuck out from squares representing
various types of evil. The good vs. bad literalness caught Victorian
England’s fancy, and in the late nineteenth century, it began to be
played throughout the U.K. It was called Snakes and Ladders, and very
Victorian virtues like penitence, thrift and industry were what shot a
player up the ladders.
The Chutes and Ladders we know today was copyrighted in 1870, and
came to the U.S. thereafter. A player’s progress up and through the
tiers was determined by his or her turn at the plastic “spinner.” The
spinner was flicked or tapped into motion, and a player moved
accordingly, arriving at squares that contained examples of good or bad
deeds. Save a cat from a tree, climb a ladder. Eat too much candy or
engage in scary bicycle antics, get ready to plummet. When the most
severe chute was a disastrous 63-space plunge, you knew this game was
no pushover. First player to the finish line won.
There was no strategy here, no way to cheat, no way to outsmart
opponents with slippery head games or a convincing poker face—which was
all as it should be, since psychological warfare and morality-teaching
don’t usually mix. Because the results of the spinning arrow were
completely random, progress through the tiers was luck-based, evening
the odds for everyone. The only safe thing to bet on was that the
lessons would keep coming and coming.
The two-to-four-player game is still alive and well today, and
though the box says it's marketed toward ages four and up, players
don’t technically have to be able read—as long as someone at the board
can read out the squares for them. So set the little one down to
play…heck, play it while the little one’s still in the womb and get a
real head start on his good vs. bad acumen!
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