As we see the classic-game community build and build, with rekindled interest in the old titles popping up all over the world as a collective reaction to the fancier but more limited games of the modern market, an inevitable side effect is seeing its first days: Books, both sociological and purely game-related, are showing up on the shelves to make sense of the reborn affections. Adam and I have chosen the first two 1997 releases for our respective debating positions. Unless you have enough cash to buy both (which I recommend, as they complement each other very nicely), you'll find the extensive reviews of both books to be helpful in picking one. Next issue, Adam will take the side of Phoenix, whereas I'll highlight Joystick Nation; but here's an overview of each of these fantastic non-fiction works, in case you're not in a patient mood. (The advent of classic-gaming literature is just fine with us old game fans!)
Phoenix, by Leonard Herman, contains the least amount of personal opinion from the author. It's a run-down on video-game history. It assumes a documentary-style narrative voice, and now features tons of photographs; the earlier ones are fascinating images of 1970s systems that only saw one Christmas apiece, and the rare photos of vaporware (stuff that was never actually released), such as Atari's mysterious Mindlink unit, are fun to look at.
The current edition is an extensively updated version of the original 1993 book, and the admirably thorough account of invaluable facts now extends to include the most modern systems. This is the ultimate history book for video-game fans of any era.
Joystick Nation, by J.C. Herz, does not adopt this list-of-facts style; rather, it entertains the game veteran with sociological commentaries that cause the author to come across as everykid, c. 1982. Taking a grown-up perspective that retains the fascination of that first gaming boom, she poses cultural questions, probes some rather disturbing, modern marketing, and interviews key game-design innovators. Many of her memories, not to mention her modern perceptions, cross over into the humor genre. A history of games is also included, although it's not nearly as extensive as Phoenix's. This book's approach is different; it's more of an editorial and selective game-history spotlight. Once again, the game community is covered right up into the late '90s.
Both of these books are extremely well done, and both are enjoyable (at the least) for any game fan. But our next issue will contain a head-to-head "panel review" of both titles, and this might help you decide on which one you'd like to read if you absolutely must choose. (This isn't to mention that Adam and I like to argue about these things anyway.)