League of the Lexicon is the consequence of being left unattended in a Waterstones. It’s the game people like me buy to look clever, and it’s the game I’d get out when hosting a group who can’t be convinced to play a more board-y game.
Having grown up playing Trivial Pursuit Genius Edition as a child – a game made unnecessarily difficult by having questions that predate my birth by 10 years – League of the Lexicon felt right up my street.
It belongs to the family of games known as party games; a genre which sophisticated board game aficionados like me must look down on as a matter of principle. But this particular party game has one redeeming quality – it makes me look clever. At least, that’s what I convinced myself it would do before playing my first game.
How to play
Players chooses a starting character from the League of the Lexicon deck. Each character has a unique combination of symbols on their card. Players then take it in turns to roll a die and answer the question that corresponds to their rolled number.
Get a question right and you get to draw an artifact card. Each artifact has a symbol on it. Match enough symbols to your character card and you win, basically.
There are a few additional rules and game variants, but the mechanics exist purely to facilitate a language quiz and have next to zero impact on how much fun you’re going to have, so let’s not get too bogged down in detail.
While characters and artifacts mean very little to gameplay, I do appreciate the delightful engraving-style illustrations. They’re pleasant, if a little pointless. But doing things that are pleasant but pointless is what makes us human, I suppose, so I’ll allow it.
So many questions
The meat of the game is the questions, and they’re bloody hard. Questions come in two difficulties – tricksy and ticklish. These decks basically translate as you’ll look stupid and you’ll look really stupid, respectively.
My wife grew up learning two languages, so only spent half her time learning English. Equally, my mum has the handicap of living in Yorkshire, so doesn’t speak English natively. It was only fair, then, that I took the tricksy questions while my opponents opted for ticklish.
I lost with flying colours.
Questions might be as simple as spelling a word, or correctly identifying a word’s etymology, or define a word – that sort of thing. Some questions are multiple choice, others are open – many are ambiguous. One question might be name 10 X. The answer sheet then says answers may include, which means, as long as people in the room agree, you could name something not on the answer sheet and still be correct. I found this grey area unsettling. But then again language is very grey and unsettling too, I suppose.
Good news for any Americans reading; I believe there’s also a version of this game available in US (simplified) English just for you.
A pedant’s treasure chest
League of the Lexicon is one of those games that annoy grammar Nazis. Does that last sentence sound grammatically awkward to you? Me too. Annoys rolls off the tongue much better but, apparently, is incorrect.
I know this because it was one of my questions. I was so sure I’d got this grammar question correct – it was a multiple choice of two, come on – that I prematurely collected my prize artifact before I was told it was wrong. I drew Tolkien’s pipe! Of all prizes, I had to give back Tolkien’s bloody pipe! Gutted! I’m sure this kind of trauma is how bond villains are created. I promised myself there and then to weaponise this new grammar knowledge for the rest of my life and at any human cost.
But anger aside, for me this isn’t a game wholly about winning. It’s about having fun while slowly and quietly arming myself with useless knowledge to throw at unsuspecting people later in life.
Did you know, for example, where the idiom to butter someone up comes from? I do, and I’ll be cornering you at the next Christmas party with it just when you desperately need the loo.
A purpose, served
I try my best not to analyse the joy out of a game. The truest measure is did I have fun? In this respect, yes, League of the Lexicon is fine. It’s a slow burner and the rules are a bit pointless, but it gets people around the coffee table where other games might intimidate.
It’s definitely not a game I’d plan an evening around, but it’s a game that was good to have on hand when there were no other plans.
To give you a final flavour before making your own buying choice, I’ll leave you with one question that I failed miserably on; let’s see if you can do any better.
Spell ONOMATOPOEIA.
Good luck!
