some of the most beautiful and impressive structures in Riven are on the first island you land on, "Temple Island". this is the place that Gehn selected as the nerve-center for his miniature empire; it's also where he (coughs) invites the people of Riven to worship him, in a room he's got specially fitted to project a huge holographic likeness of his head.
the technology and workmanship on display, whether it's the polished work of brass and gold, or the more rustic machinery made from wood and steel, are all truly impressive...and also almost completely pointless.
Gehn built all this stuff because he's a bad mage; he blames his materials rather than his lack of skill, so he subjugates almost all Riven to help make up for his own deficiencies. the only way he can get his faulty linking-Books to work is with brute-force methods, and most of the equipment you get to handle in the game is part of the elaborate and clumsy technological superstructure required to power his work. Catherine gets one of Gehn's discarded books working on her own, with a simple slab of crystal.
I'm reminded of the peculiar fondness that certain nerds have for "steampunk"—it's fascinating in some respects to imagine pushing the technological limitations of early Industrial Revolution technology, but mostly it's terrifying. the steam era of Western civilization was one of its worst: children were dying in coal mines, and stokers were dying of black lung or choking on carbon monoxide, in order to do nothing more than boil water and drive it through machinery. something of the infernal quality of coal-fired steam machinery carries through into lore about the sinking of Titanic. she was a monstrosity in a sense, a vessel that only existed because the limitations of coal (and of the human beings forced to handle coal) were being pushed to their breaking points. somehow it's fitting that such a monument to excess wound up in pieces, at the bottom of the Atlantic.
it's not fashionable to think of technological developments in moral or ethical terms; there's a lamentable habit of pretending that there's something intrinsically pure about all scientific and engineering developments, as though the only goal to these things was disinterested accumulation of knowledge—how people can still maintain this silly fiction, at a time when almost ALL of our technical advancement is subordinate to the demands of capitalism and profit-hoarding, is beyond me. or perhaps I can see it: clinging to the "pure knowledge" illusion, even from within a profit-making enterprise, makes it easier for scientific and technical people to dissociate themselves from the earthly costs and consequences of their work.
Gehn's ultimate plan, like that of a whole heap of very-high-net-worth persons on Earth, is simply to run away from costs and consequences. it doesn't matter to him that his schemes for getting his Books working are clumsy and destructive; once he's gotten his tech working at all his plan is to warp away from Riven and let the realm crumble. he imagines he's the sole creator of the place, yet ultimately Riven is worthless to him, and he's prepared to shitcan it without a second thought.
seems kind of familiar.
~Chara of Pnictogen
