The Names of the Games

GAMES PEOPLE PLAY by Eric Berne, M.D. 192 pages. Grove Press. $5.

John Husband, feeling amorous, makes advances to his wife and is stonily repulsed. Enraged, Mr. Husband begins to shout unchivalrous things. His wife, just as furious, hollers back until the battle ends with a thunder of slamming doors. How to explain such behavior? Easy, says Author Berne. Husband and wife are playing games.

Dr. Berne labels this game Frigid Woman, and warns against the conclusion that its outcome is all Mrs. Husband's fault. Chances are that her spouse deliberately, if unconsciously, chose just such an unobliging mate--"to minimize the danger," as Berne puts it, "of overtaxing his disturbed potency, which he can now blame on her." Another game is called Uproar, and while it is most commonly played by married couples anxious to avoid sexual intimacy, it is also played, on other occasions and for other reasons, by all mankind.

Cocktail-Party Talk. Dozens of like emotional divertissements are catalogued in this slender volume, which was written mainly for psychotherapists and reads that way; in Berne's terms, for example, human boredom becomes "structure hunger." But after publication last August, the book slowly began to catch on not only with the referees but with the players. A modest first printing of 3,000 has been succeeded by eight more, for a total of 83,000 copies.

What probably accounts for this non-professional interest, beyond sales-promoting cocktail-party talk, is the opportunity Berne provides for people to take a fresh look at themselves. Nearly anyone can recognize himself in Berne's games, from Harried (the uncomplaining, noble housewife who undertakes too much and then collapses) through Kick Me ("played by men whose social manner is equivalent to wearing a sign that reads 'Please Don't Kick Me' "> to Buzz Off, Buster (the woman who leads a man to water and then waxes wroth when he attempts to drink). Even the nonprofessional reader, after dipping into Berne's turbid prose, will soon realize that the games under discussion, despite their whimsical trademarks, are seldom played for fun.

Not Tennis. Berne, a 55-year-old psychiatrist who divides his practice between San Francisco and his home in Carmel, has been developing his game theory most of his professional life. It is his contention that the clues to man's irrational behavior can be found in the games he plays. Not tennis and golf and football, but Wooden Leg, Schiemiel, Peasant, Stupid, Let's You and Him Fight, and Now I've Got You, You Son of a Bitch. Some may wonder: These are games? But for those who want out, Berne has a suggestion--it takes two to play.

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