Yora
Maester
Recently I've been playing the game Darkest Dungeon and noticed that it has what I consider to be very strong worldbuilding, but does so without any exposition. There is never any mention of places other than The Mannor and The Hamlett, no history other than the fall of the mannor, no mention of cultures, or any kind of map. Instead the setting is entirely implied. The mercenaries who arrive to fight in the dungeons are crusaders, highwaymen, occultists, and plague doctors. One dungeon is inhabited by pig men, another one by fish men and squid things. The occultist has spells that curse enemies or make tentacles appear that attack them, but also has a healing spell called Weird Reconstruction that heals a random amount of damage that can be much higher or lower than the healing of a priestess, and regardless of how much it heals can cause the target to start bleeding for several rounds. Nothing is explicitly stated as exposition, but would you want to let this guy use that spell on your wounds? There is a lot of things implied about the world simply by the things that are found within it. The magic that heroes and enemies use, and the kinds of creatures they encounter and the treasure they find.
Now this game has an outstandingly good visual art direction that greatly adds to the impliations it makes about the world, which is something that literature does not have. But in a story you can describe the looks and feels of things, as well as how the characters are perceiving them. Communicating a world to the readers through the things that are actually present in a scene and the way characters talk about things is an approach I find very intriguing. And one I think could have many advantages, though it probably isn't any less work than fleshing out a detailed history and geography for a world. The common problem with exposition is a disruption of flow of the story and making it feel like a natural element of the scene if it is presented in dialog. With an implied setting this problem can be avoided, though at the same time I see the risk of getting swamped in excessive descriptions.
But the big advantage I see is how this suggests shape without actually showing it. In any work of horror, a monster is always the most scary when you can't see all of it. You only get vague impressions of eyes over here, teeth over there, a suggestion of a tail and a quick glimpse of dark fur, but never all of it and not at the same time, which makes it impossible to tell how everything is really arranged on the body, what other parts there are, and how big it all is. When the creature is shown in its entirety and the viewer can take a good look for more than a brief moment, it's never as scary as it would otherwise be. The things that are invisible in the shadows are a crucial part of its overall appearance. Because when the brain is filling in the gaps, it's not really making an estimation of specific shapes that complete the picture of the creature. Instead the gaps are being filled with emotions. "I don't have an idea how the full creature could look like, but I am certain it is even more scary than what I am already seeing." The thing is that this emotional expectation is more scary than any possible shape that could be hidden under the shadows. No matter how much effort and creativity you put into it, the shadow will always create stronger emotions than any revealed things.
And the same thing applies to magical wonder. If you want to make something feel magical, wondrous, and mystical, suggestions and implications of what is really going on will always be more emotionally evocative than anything you could outright state. So when I decided to create a world that feels wondrous, dreamlike, and mystical, I made the choice not to give it a history and only a very rough pencil sketch for a map to help me stay consistent with compass directions as characters are travelling.
A consequence of this that I am seeing is that stories in this world would have to stay small scale, as there isn't really any big picture about politics snd regional issues. It's a world that only exist within the range of perception of the characters.
Now this game has an outstandingly good visual art direction that greatly adds to the impliations it makes about the world, which is something that literature does not have. But in a story you can describe the looks and feels of things, as well as how the characters are perceiving them. Communicating a world to the readers through the things that are actually present in a scene and the way characters talk about things is an approach I find very intriguing. And one I think could have many advantages, though it probably isn't any less work than fleshing out a detailed history and geography for a world. The common problem with exposition is a disruption of flow of the story and making it feel like a natural element of the scene if it is presented in dialog. With an implied setting this problem can be avoided, though at the same time I see the risk of getting swamped in excessive descriptions.
But the big advantage I see is how this suggests shape without actually showing it. In any work of horror, a monster is always the most scary when you can't see all of it. You only get vague impressions of eyes over here, teeth over there, a suggestion of a tail and a quick glimpse of dark fur, but never all of it and not at the same time, which makes it impossible to tell how everything is really arranged on the body, what other parts there are, and how big it all is. When the creature is shown in its entirety and the viewer can take a good look for more than a brief moment, it's never as scary as it would otherwise be. The things that are invisible in the shadows are a crucial part of its overall appearance. Because when the brain is filling in the gaps, it's not really making an estimation of specific shapes that complete the picture of the creature. Instead the gaps are being filled with emotions. "I don't have an idea how the full creature could look like, but I am certain it is even more scary than what I am already seeing." The thing is that this emotional expectation is more scary than any possible shape that could be hidden under the shadows. No matter how much effort and creativity you put into it, the shadow will always create stronger emotions than any revealed things.
And the same thing applies to magical wonder. If you want to make something feel magical, wondrous, and mystical, suggestions and implications of what is really going on will always be more emotionally evocative than anything you could outright state. So when I decided to create a world that feels wondrous, dreamlike, and mystical, I made the choice not to give it a history and only a very rough pencil sketch for a map to help me stay consistent with compass directions as characters are travelling.
A consequence of this that I am seeing is that stories in this world would have to stay small scale, as there isn't really any big picture about politics snd regional issues. It's a world that only exist within the range of perception of the characters.