I do not know how to play Poker. I think as a child, I had the impression that Poker was a game for immoral gamblers. (No offense if you are a Poker player.) In my family, our card game was Rook. If you’ve never heard of it, I wouldn’t be surprised. Rook apparently began as a wholesome alternative to card games like Poker because face cards were, in some people’s minds, connected with gambling and worldly vices. In fact, Parker Brothers actually marketed Rook as “the game for Christian homes” in 1906. Rook was especially popular in the South, but it also took hold in the Midwest. Additionally, it became quite popular in many Mennonite and Amish communities, and is still played today with a distinct Mennonite Rook variation. (And if you’re wondering, a rook is a kind of large black crow that makes its nests in the tops of trees.)
Rook is not a game you can play alone. You generally need a minimum of four players. It’s a game best played in community. When my grandparents were young adults in rural Kentucky, they played Rook with their neighbors. On Sunday afternoon or in the evenings after supper, when neighbors came calling, their visits often resulted in a friendly game of Rook. Competition was tough, the atmosphere jovial, and the relationships were close-knit. Similar gatherings could be found all across the country, but the games were different. In the Midwest it was likely Euchre, in Texas it was Dominoes, in German-American communities it was Pinochle. The games may have been different, but the need for community was the same.
Today, there are hundreds, maybe thousands of games we can download and play instantly on our phones or tablets. We don’t need to plan a game night with our friends, trying to match up everyone’s schedules. We don’t have to clean up the house before they come over or make sure we have snacks and drinks. Tap and play—no waiting, no inconvenience. But those games ignore the fact that there is no replacement for in-person, face to face, interactive social gaming.
In recent years there has been a growing fascination with the ancient Chinese game Mahjong. If you haven’t heard of it, you will. It’s rapidly gaining interest in America, though it has been in the country for over a century. Mahjong is a game played with tiles and is similar to rummy. Players draw and discard tiles to form winning combinations. Just as with card games, there are many variations based on geography and personal preference: Hong Kong, traditional Chinese, Japanese (Riichi), American, British, just to name a few.
In the 1920’s, Mahjong became quite fashionable in United States social circles, particularly among women. In the 1940’s-1950’s, it became strongly associated with Jewish American women, community groups, and social clubs. After 2010, Mahjong experienced a resurgence with the help of social media. Younger generations began to play. But it was the covid pandemic that really drove the West’s interest in the game. People were frustrated from the isolation and were looking for ways to reconnect. Restaurants, cafes, and clubs started having “Mahjong Mondays,” complete with lessons, food, and drinks. Dedicated Mahjong rooms or parlors began appearing in clubs and restaurants. Today, Mahjong has taken on a life of its own as people have realized the opportunity to turn it into a big business. There are newly stylized tiles and coordinating tables on which to play them. Mahjong “gear” is everywhere—t-shirts, hoodies, hats, tumblers, bumper stickers. You can join clubs and pay to learn the game.
While there are online versions and app-based versions, they have little in common with in-person play. The strong visual appeal of the tiles, the feel of them in your hands, and the oddly-satisfying clink they make when knocked together cannot be replicated on a screen. Historically, Mahjong tiles were like works of art and were passed down from generation to generation as family heirlooms. Early sets were made from bone and bamboo, while today’s tiles are often high-quality acrylic. Modern sets vary wildly in price. A very basic budget set costs around $25, but premium designer sets can cost anywhere from $300-$1,000!
Of course the major appeal of Mahjong, like Poker or Pinochle, is the experience of playing with a group. As one friend told me, “It’s the community I didn’t know I needed.” That’s why the game is popular; it’s actually not about the game. Whether we are reaching for a card, a domino, or a tile, what we’re really after is connection—conversation, laughter, acceptance, and belonging. That’s why, generation after generation, we keep finding our way back to the table.
