Mythic Underworld vs. Gygaxian Naturalism is a Stupid Debate
Mythic Underworld vs. Gygaxian Naturalism is a Stupid Debate⌗
To put it as gently as I can, both sides of this debate are quite misguided—at least at the extremes. Now, I’m not on Twitter/X (or whatever the kids call it these days) because I prefer to retain my attention span and avoid being a dopamine addict fueled by outrage. But even I hear news through the grapevine from my RSS feeds and podcasts.
One recent tidbit that caught my attention was this silly debate, which I learned about from two creators I follow but won’t name here. Let’s just say they bitterly disagree on this issue.
This argument I find very tedious and bothersomme, from an outside perspective—and one not clouded by drama-driven dopamine—it seems clear that these creators, despite their passionate stances, share far more in common than they differ. They’re squabbling over trivial distinctions in opinion, yet align on about 90% of everything else.
Naturalist Dungeon vs. Mythic Dungeon⌗
Mythic Dungeons
- Are directly hostile to the player characters, as the dungeon itself harbors a malevolent intent.
- Typically exist in an enclosed environment where the rules don’t align with baseline reality.
- Actively support the monsters within, aiding them in various ways.
Naturalist Dungeons
- Focus on ecology and the local environment as the foundation of the dungeon.
- Feature monsters that fulfill factional or ecological niches within the dungeon.
- Are dynamic and change based on player interaction with the ecology and factions.
One important note: these two types of dungeons are not mutually exclusive, despite what some in the debate might claim. Both approaches have roots in the literary influences on the hobby, as well as in the history of the game.
In Original D&D (the “three little brown books”), the “Mythic Underworld” concept is referenced when discussing dungeons, which explains quirks like doors and traps being stuck for players but not for monsters, or the abundance of seemingly random monsters, the rules themselves reflect this mindset pertaining to the dungeon.
Gygaxian naturalism, a term coined for Gary Gygax’s later work, reflects D&D’s shift from its mythic inspirations to a more gonzo, pulpy style. Historically, the creators of D&D embraced both styles of dungeon, considering them valid.
The line between the two is neither stark nor thin; it’s blurry and often indistinct. For example, one of D&D’s literary influences, The Lord of the Rings, features the Mines of Moria, which is both a naturalist dungeon and a mythic one.
At first, Moria is simply a dwarven settlement/fortress overrun by orcs—a naturalist setting with signs of conflict and new inhabitants, like goblins, orcs, and cave trolls, all point to an ecological and faction-based dynamic.
However, as the story progresses, the mythic aspects of Moria comes to the forefront. The dwarves dug too deep and unearthed a Balrog, a fallen spirit from an age remembered only by some elves—a servant of Morgoth thought long dead.
As Gandalf and the Balrog fall deeper into the mountain, the mythic overtone crescendos into a downright Lovecraftian fever dream:
“Far, far below the deepest delvings of the Dwarves, the world is gnawed by nameless things. Even Sauron knows them not. They are older than he. Now I have walked there, but I will bring no report to darken the light of day. In that despair, my enemy was my only hope, and I pursued him, clutching at his heel. Thus he brought me back at last to the secret ways of Khazad-dûm: too well he knew them all. Ever up now we went, until we came to the Endless Stair.”
— Gandalf the White
In short, Moria is a naturalist place built atop a mythic underworld—likely a hidden lair Morgoth himself once made, where the Balrog retreated after the War of Wrath. It’s a layered place where the deeper one goes, the more malevolent and mythic it becomes.
The literary and historical influences on D&D show that both styles were used by the founders of the hobby. While one style waxed as another waned during different editions and times, this doesn’t mean they were mutually exclusive or that one was the “correct” vision over the other.
The general point of this was to more attack the debate itself, than break down the perspectives, because anybody who really understands this subject wouldn’t be arguing it. I’ve said my piece on the matter—perhaps a bit late to the drama that started it all, but I still wanted to offer a brief opinion piece article on the subject.