<abstract><title style='display:none'>Abstract</title>The American Museum of Natural History (amnh) has three mancala game boards in their collection that are connected with Suriname, formerly Dutch Guyana. One of these samples is exhibited in the amnh African Peoples Hall as part of a section on African Slavery and Diaspora. The games of Suriname were described by Melville J. Herskovits in an article dating to 1929, but the relation of these three boards with Herskovits has remained unclear. With the help of the Herskovits archives, the archival records of amnh and recent research on Surinamese Maroon communities, the history of these three boards is shown to be intimately linked with Herskovits’ broader intellectual project.</abstract>

Mancala in Surinamese Maroon Communities: The Expedition of Melville J. Herskovits

<abstract><title style='display:none'>Abstract</title>Besides the ubiquitous patolli—a race game played on a cruciform gameboard—the Aztecs had obviously a few other board games. Unfortunately their names have not been recorded. We owe to Diego Durán, writing in the last quarter of the 16th century from local sources, some hints of what appears to be a “war game” and a second, different race game that he calls ‘fortuna’. A close examination of some Precolumbian codices shows a rectangular design with a chequered border, together with beans and gamepieces, which has correctly been interpreted as a board game. Many similar diagrams can be seen carved on stone in temples and public places, from Teotihuacan (c. 4th-7th century AD) to late Toltec times (9th-12th century AD). Of this game too we do not know the name. It has tentatively been called <italic>quauhpatolli </italic>(“eagle- or wooden-patolli”) by Christian Duverger (1978)—although this seems to have been the classic post-conquest Nahuatl name for the game of chess—or “proto-patolli”, and more concretely “rectángulo de cintas” (rectangle of bands) by William Swezey and Bente Bittman (1983).The lack of any representation of this game in all Postcolumbian codices, as painted by Aztec artists commissioned by Spanish scholars interested in the Aztec culture, is clear indication that the game had disappeared before the Spanish conquest, at least in central Mexico. No Aztec site shows any such gameboard. Fortunately this game had survived until the 20th (and 21st!) century but located in the Tarascan country, now the state of Michoacán. It was discovered, unchanged, in a Tarascan (Purepecha) village by Ralph L. Beals and Pedro Carrasco, who published their find in 1944. At that time Beals and Carrasco had no idea the game was attested in early codices and Teotihuacan to Maya and Toltec archaeological sites. In Purepecha the game is called <italic>k’uillichi</italic>.There is evidence of an evolution that led to a simplification of the game: less tracks, less gamesmen (in fact only one per player, while k’uillichi has four), and less ‘dice’. From a “complex” race game, the new debased version turned to be a simple single-track race game with no strategy at all. It is possible that this process took place in Michoacán. (A few examples of the simplified game were found in some Tarascan villages.) Also it seems the widespread use of the Nahua language, which the Spanish promoted, led to calling the game, and/or its dice, patol. As it was, <italic>patol </italic>proved to be very appealing and became very popular in the Mexican West, finally reaching the Noroeste, that is, the present North-West of Mexico and Southwest of the United States.This seems to have been a recent trend, since its progress was observed with much detail by missionaries living in close contact with the Indians along what was called the ‘Camino Real’, the long highway that led from western Mexico to what is now New Mexico in the U.S. The Spanish themselves seem to have helped the game in its diffusion, unaware of its presence. It is clearly with the Spaniards that the <italic>patol </italic>game, sometimes also called <italic>quince </italic>(fifteen), reached the American Southwest and settled in the Pueblo and the Zuñi countries.It is there that some newcomers, coming from the North or from the Great Plains, and getting in contact with the Pueblos in the 18th century, found the game and took it over. The Kiowas and Kiowa Apaches are noted for their <italic>zohn ahl </italic>(or <italic>tsoñä</italic>) game, while the Arapahos call it <italic>ne’bäku’thana</italic>. A careful examination of zohn ahl shows that it has kept the basic features of an ancient game that came—in Spanish times—from Mexico and may have been popular in Teotihuacan times. Its spread northward—through the Tarascan country—is, hopefully, well documented.</abstract>

Ancient American Board Games, I: From Teotihuacan to the Great Plains

Board Games Before Ur?

<abstract><title style='display:none'>Abstract</title>While <italic>Monopoly</italic> is still one of the best-known board games in the United States today, increasing attention is paid to <italic>The Settlers of Catan</italic>, a mid-1990s German immigrant to the United States and a mid to late 2010s staple in popular culture and on store shelves. However, the one place where <italic>Catan</italic> has seen a drop in popularity over the past decade is in its first world, that of hobby board games. With so many new and innovative games and mechanics flooding the hobby market each year, <italic>Catan</italic> struggles to find a place. This struggle is due in part to its lack of innovation, attempt to keep pace with game trends, and seemingly, a reluctance to buy into the popularity of app-supported games (though solely mobile versions of <italic>Catan</italic> exist), crowdfunding, and new mechanics. This research explores <italic>Catan</italic>’s history in the United States to illustrate the paradox of its growing popularity with the general public while also experiencing a downturn in accolades from within the hobby, all while functioning as a barometer against which we can measure trends in the selling and playing of hobby board games.</abstract>

The Sellers of Catan: The Impact of <italic>the Settlers of Catan</italic> on the United States Leisure and Business Landscape, 1995-2019

<abstract><title style='display:none'>Abstract</title>The article is dedicated to exploring the relationship between board games and cultural memory, the board game in question being a version of <italic>Monopoly</italic> which was published in Yugoslavia in 1986. To address this question, I conducted several interviews with interlocutors who used to play the Yugoslavian version of <italic>Monopoly</italic> and grew up in the eighties or in the nineties. Apart from exploring <italic>Monopoly</italic> as a metaphor and showing the specifics of the Yugoslavian version, the article aims to outline the potential of a board game to reproduce traces of cultural memory and how these traces are interpreted differently according to the generational and socio-historical background of the interlocutors included in my research. Moreover, the purpose of my article is to show that board games should not be analyzed only in terms of their physical attributes, fields and the playing cards they include, but also with regard to their reception.</abstract>

Remembering Yugoslavia: Board Game Monopoly and Cultural Memory

Lizzie Magie: America’s First Lady of Games

<abstract><title style='display:none'>Abstract</title>
Ludus Regularis is a board game with dice, from the 10th century, which came to our knowledge through literary sources. The rules of the game were kept by the historian Balderic, in the 11th century, in a book edited in 1615 by Colvener: Chronicon Cameracense et Atrebatense, and reedited in 1834 by André Le Glay, in Paris: Chronique d’Arras et de Cambrai. 
By studying the probabilities involved in the dynamics of the game Ludus Regularis, it is possible to advance that the author’s concerns were mainly centred on presenting a game that followed Catholic doctrine. 
Ludus Regularis is a carefully conceived game, using dice commonly inaccessible to members of the clergy, in a context of deep Christian religious symbolism. 
</abstract>

<italic>Ludus Regularis</italic>: The Clergy Game

<abstract><title style='display:none'>Abstract</title>
Merels (also called Nine Men‘s Morris) comprises a family of traditional board games with ancient roots. Between medieval and modern times, merels saw an interesting onomasiological shift: Several European languages took up a new name for the game. This new name is sometimes claimed to have originated in German, but the details surrounding this naming practice are still unclear. There are mainly two German groups of names for this game, the older names based on the number 9 <italic>(Neunstein, Neunten Stein, Neunermal</italic> etc.) and the younger based on the German word for “mill” <italic>(Mühle, Mühlspiel, Mühleziehen </italic>etc.). Relying on philological evidence (partly pulled from lexicographical data) this paper outlines the evolution of German terms for merels, focusing on the naming practices from the 15th to 17th century. Possible motivations of the name <italic>Mühle</italic> are discussed. 
</abstract>

German Names for Merels

<abstract><title style='display:none'>Abstract</title>
Despite many discoveries and proposals for rules for the ancient board game known as the Royal Game of Ur (RGU), no mathematical analysis has yet been performed investigating those rules. In an attempt to fill that gap, this paper presents an initial mathematical analysis of the RGU from an introductory point of view. The paper deduces the overall complexity of the RGU using a state-space and game-tree complexity analysis, allowing the RGU to be compared to the popular games Checkers, Backgammon, Ludo, Chess, and Go. The paper builds upon the fundamental laws of combinatorics and probability to improve the understanding of the game: what patterns should you expect, what moves increase your chance to win, and what moves should you avoid. The paper also presents theorems to predict the probability of future dice rolls and piece movements within the game, allowing basic inferences to be made about strategy in the RGU. The game is further examined by analysing three different influences when determining the best move: advancement and attack (beneficial to the player), and captures (detrimental to the player). These influences are used to deduce explicit equations for the advantage gained by playing each possible move from a position, which allows the formalization of a strategic algorithm to play the RGU.
</abstract>

Mathematical analysis of the Royal Game of Ur

<abstract><title style='display:none'>Abstract</title>
The first profound ludemic studies are being done at the moment. Some projects are exploring the ludemic approach in video games and historic games. However, contemporary games known as modern board games are still underexplored. In this paper, the number one games, according to Board Game Geek since 2000, are analyzed according to a systemic approach. The authors propose exploring the game system and other dimensions of each game in order to find design patterns that help support a ludemic approach. By addressing ludemes, the authors seek to contribute to understanding the success of modern board games in an age of video game domination. 
</abstract>

Finding Ludemes in Modern Board Games: Analyzing the Top Number One Games of Board Game Geek  

<abstract><title style='display:none'>Abstract</title>
Characterised by the presence of multiple depressions or pockets in a variety of arrangements, and, in some cases, the presence of a single, double, or triple ‘start line’ carved into horizontal stone surfaces, marble lanes in their variety of forms open a window onto ancient play that few have looked through. Thought to be a playing surface for some kind of throwing or rolling game which involved the use of glass or ceramic spheres, Roman marble lanes have received comparatively little attention in the recent upswing of scholarship on ancient play, partially as a result of the relative dearth of textual and iconographic sources discussing or depicting their usage, but these playing surfaces nevertheless represent a major corpus of ludic material. This contribution summarises past work on marble lanes before exploring the limited textual and iconographic source material related to playing with marbles. It offers a tentative new typology by which to categorise marble lanes and a non-exhaustive list of these playing surfaces recorded at archaeological sites around the Mediterranean. It then moves onto a discussion of the game/games that may be played on these boards, arguing that the wide variations in the different layouts for marble lanes may indicate that they were used not for one tightly-defined game, but more likely facilitated the playing of a loosely connected family of games, with implicaitons for how we think about communities of play in the past. 
</abstract>

Reassessing Roman and Late Antique ‘Marbles Lanes’: One Game or Many?

<abstract><title style='display:none'>Abstract</title>
Traditional Maldivian chess rules are presented and their similarity to pre-19th century Turkish chess is discussed, with musings on the potential role of Ottomans in spreading the “new game” invented in Europe – but played in their own manner – throughout the Muslim world and beyond. 
</abstract>

Maldivian Chess (Raazuvaa)

<abstract><title style='display:none'>Abstract</title>A great deal of the literary evidence surrounding the ancient Greek board game pente grammai has to do with its central and proverbial ‘holy line’. Although it seems that the goal of the game was to reach this holy line, the proverb always refers to ‘moving away from’ this holy line not toward it. But why would players move away from the line which is the goal? This paper argues that there was a strategic element to the game: just like in modern backgammon and in Zeno’s ‘table’ game from late antiquity, in pente grammai a player could knock an opponent’s ‘blots’ (azuges) off the board. This explains why a player might make the odd move of leaving the holy line: the aggressive and risky act might bring an advantage if the opponent has left a number of vulnerable pieces exposed. At the end, a possible reconstruction of the game is offered.</abstract>

Pente Grammai and the ‘Holy Line’

<abstract>
<title style='display:none'>Abstract</title>
A late 5th century BC funerary altar from the necropolis of Krannon (Central Greece) depicts a bearded man and a boy on either side of a board with five lines carved on a block. The fact that the man is seated and the horizontal position of the board reveal important information about Greek education and the history of Greek numeracy. This paper analyses the iconography of the relief, the link between the <italic>Five Lines</italic> game (<italic>Pente grammai</italic>) and abaci, examines the possible identification of the man as a “pebble arithmetician”, of the boy as a student, and suggests a new reconstruction of the reckoning system operated on an abacus composed of five horizontal lines. A special practical function is proposed for the half-circle at one end of the abacus. This five lines pattern and the related material, especially counters, are considered from a wider perspective, a system of cultural practices associated with boards and counters throughout the Greek world.
</abstract>

Game Board or Abacus? Greek Counter Culture Revisited

Some Misconceptions About Ancient Roman Games

<abstract>
<title style='display:none'>Abstract</title>
A particularly beautiful marble statue of a boy, a dedication unearthed in Lilaia, Phokis, and on display in the National Archaeological Museum, Athens, is an opportunity for us to explore the connection between the boys’ games and the jeopardy in their outcome. Both the expression on the boy’s face and the way he holds an astragal and a goose demand multiple levels of reading. These are related to the intent of the dedication in the first place, the identification of the games requiring an astragal or involving a goose, as well as to the choice of these specific playthings for the particular imagery. Why is he holding a single astragal, and in such a particular way? Why is the goose included in the picture, and what species of <italic>Anatidae</italic> is this? The apparent originality of the motif and of the work, in comparison with other well-known Hellenistic representations in stone or terracotta, dictated our research into the milieu of artistic and symbolic quests of that period, and also a reflection on the choice of the artist to designate a child as the owner of the playthings within a particular spatial and temporal context, perhaps associated with healing frοm a life-threatening fever.
</abstract>

The Knucklebone and the Goose: Playing and Jeopardy for the Boy of Lilaia

<abstract>
<title style='display:none'>Abstract</title>
In the sanctuary of Kition-<italic>Kathari</italic> (Cyprus), a building with benches, identified as a temple (“Temple 4”), is characterized in its centre by a hearth pit next to a trapezoidal stone construction, constituting “Altar E”. The platform’s surface comprises a series of little cup-holes. Once labelled “table of offerings”, it has recently been interpreted as a gaming table. Besides clay gaming stones, this area has yielded knucklebones as well as several deposits of incised scapulae linked with divination practices. This Cypriot context gives us the opportunity to explore and also to put in light the influences and interactions between different regions of the Eastern Mediterranean at the turn of the 1st millennium BC.
</abstract>

Games and Oracular Practices Around the Hearth: The “Table of Offerings” from the so-called Temple 4 at Kition-<italic>Kathari</italic> (Cyprus)

<abstract><title style='display:none'>Abstract</title> A note by A. Chernevski in the 1877 Shakhmatny Listok described two chess variants played in Samarkand, present-day Uzbekistan. One, the “Bukharan game”, is a slightly modified version of shatranj, similar to Rumi chess as described in Murray’s History of Chess. The other, the “Persian game with a queen” resembles to some extent the Persian chess described in 1846 in the Chess Player’s Chronicle but differs from it in several important aspects. Chernevski’s information, which includes recorded games by native players, is absent from later sources on chess history. A summary of Chernevski’s report is provided, with a discussion of several other historical chess variants, and various errors that have crept into their description in the literature.</abstract>

A Note On Chess In 19th Century Turkestan