1.6 The Choice of the Game: The Most Dangerous Game by Richard Connell (1924)

Five stories in I’m still unsure what the distinguishing characteristics of “adventure” are. It may be some time until we can understand what differentiates the first five tales from those in other categories such as “courage” or “men.” After all, these stories have been about men and courage, whether in war or in scenes of suspense. That said, the sixth story, “The Most Dangerous Game,” fits into what my conception of “adventure” might be.

I imagine it was exciting for Overton to anthologize this story as "The Most Dangerous Game" was published in Collier’s in 1924—the first year Overton was the journal’s fiction editor. There is an essay to be written about the way certain editors ushered short stories into journals and then solidified their status through anthologization. 

This looks something like my high school textbook, where I first read this story

Richard Connell’s tale of a wealthy Russian who hunts humans out of sheer boredom is both an indictment and a celebration of Social Darwinism. As has been the case with previous stories, everything comes together in the final paragraphs. In the concluding moments Connell’s protagonist, Sanger Rainsford, embraces “the Hunger Games” mentality that has almost brought him to his death.

Connell’s skill is in delivering an expeditious story with just enough detail and action as to never be a chore. Forget introductions,  "The Most Dangerous Game" begins with dialogue from a character who will not soon be off the page: “‘Off there to the right—somewhere—is a large island,’ said Whitney. ‘It’s rather a mystery…’” With Whitney’s locating call the tone is set. The seed for the plot is planted: how will we learn the mystery of that place, at one point named “Ship-Trap Island?” 

A quick summary: amidst a terrible storm Rainsford is thrown off his yacht. Escaping one dangerous situation only to enter another, he makes it to the shore of Ship-Trap Island. As he enters a mansion Rainsford meets General Zaroff and his Russian henchman Ivan, who was once the “official knouter to the Great White Czar.” Zaroff considers himself a “cosmopolite” and indulges in various kinds of European delicacies, sharing them with Rainsford. He believes himself to be a man of taste and that means he must present as an accomplished huntsman. 

Richard "RC Cola" Connell himself

Familiar with Rainsford’s “book about hunting snow leopards in Tibet,” Zaroff praises the man before setting the rules for life on the island. The general owns the land (there goes some of the mystery) and has created a kind of adult playground. Anyone who arrives has an option: they either play Zaroff’s game or Ivan kills them.

Ennui dictates this whole set up as Zaroff has hunted the world’s most challenging animals and is just bored with life. Per the title, man is the most dangerous game. Giving his contestants a knife and head start, Zaroff attempts to find and kill the player (in this case Rainsford). If he is unsuccessful after three days (no one so far has been) then the contestant may leave the island.

It is hard not to think of all of the modern incarnations and re-imaginings of this basic premise. Whether in reality shows including Survivor or The Bachelor, books and films like The Hunger Games and Battle Royale, or even the fundamental conditions of many video games, the tendrils of influence are long. And yet despite the (now obvious) reveal that the most dangerous game is man, the story is still engaging.

Connell is obsessed with describing the material affect of the absence of light. Here is yet another story about an island, but Connell’s exoticization is unique: “bleak darkness” and the “moist black velvet” of the night are all, in part, manufactured by the tale’s villain. Not unlike the world of The Truman Show, this island and its surroundings are the real estate project of a rich man. It is real, it is dangerous, but the “natural world” is not absolved of humankind. 

The island and its life are managed by a bored general who attempts to fill his vacant existence with meaning through “one prolonged hunt.” Contemporaneous fascination with the relationship between the machine and the living (i.e. Italian Futurism), is implicitly played out in Zaroff’s island. The mystery is really only a mystery to those not there. Zaroff is no Oz; he does not hide behind curtains but rather ostentatiously wields control. At one point he fingers a few switches to turn on blindingly bright lights so that Rainsford has fewer places to hole up.

Zaroff sees himself as a descendent of the Enlightenment. He describes the infrastructure of electricity as aiding the island in “try[ing] to be civilized.” Key to this mission is the “survival of the fittest” structure of his game. The thrill of the hunt is that the most accomplished warrior will outlast the island itself. If successful the player is promised his life back. Of course, the whole game is rigged as Zaroff is unfairly equipped—he runs the island. 

Poster for 1932 RKO film starring Joel McCrea

But Rainsford does win. The unprecedented nature of this sends a shock through Zaroff that is reminiscent of the shock to the white men in John Russell’s “The Fourth Man.” Whatever critique of Herbert Spencer-esque Social Darwinism first appears, Connell jettisons in the story’s conclusion. 

After Rainsford has survived the three days Zaroff follows an aristocratic protocol and bows out of respect. Old Sanger does not accept such deference, replying “I am still a beast at bay… get ready, General Zaroff.” Rather than leave the island or challenge the violent system which has resulted in the death of many before him, Rainsford imposes a new deal. The two men fight. Whoever loses will be fed to the hounds.

And so Connell finishes his story with the first hint of respite in what has otherwise been a stressful few days. The murder takes place off the page. It is Rainsford's contemplation of sleep which indicates his survival and Zaroff's death as Connell writes: “he had never slept in better bed, Rainsford decided.” In what is now a cliché the hunted becomes the hunter and murders Zaroff. I remain unsure how to register this conclusion. Rainsford’s claim to “still [be] a beast at bay,” as though nothing has changed him, is peculiar. Is this Connell suggesting that Rainsford has always seen himself as a beast? The glib comments on sleep suggest a narrative that celebrates Zaroff’s death. However, to view the revenge killing as justifiable would be to accept and replicate the logic of Zaroff’s game.

We are left in an odd place. Meant to cheer on the man who fell into circumstances beyond his control, Rainsford is ultimately a murderer. He re-establishes a version of the same brutal game he beats. And so the game of “survival of the fittest” continues. This is a paralyzing conclusion as it relies on and replicates the very system the story critiques. Perhaps, then, the most dangerous game refers to something more complicated than it at first seems. Perhaps that game is one Connell can’t quite grasp.