In my childhood experience, those who play M.A.S.H. tended to have several underlying motivations: to gain an illusion of control in your life at a time when you're desperately oppressed, to gain power over someone else, to gratify confusing horny feelings in a safe space (if the person you are playing it with isn't trying to blackmail you by obtaining knowledge of your crushes), and I guess "fun" is also a part of it, as other people have somewhat nicer memories of M.A.S.H. than I do. "I think I probably first played it in late elementary school—fourth or fifth grade—though I can't remember with who, because I don't think I really had actual friends then," a friend told me.It's unclear to what degree players actually believe in the game's predictive powers, but the aspirational element was additionally a big part of the game's appeal and it was always hurtful to end up with terrible results. "I was definitely the 'wish upon a star' type growing up, so when the girls in my second and third grade classes would call for a game of M.A.S.H., I would see it as my opportunity to send a wish out into the universe," someone else said. (The inherent risks associated with such open wish-making were inescapable: "Instead I'd be left with paranoia, spending the rest of the day begging my 'friends' to not reveal to my crushes that I put their names on my list.")Read more: The History of Glitter
The result of this line of inquiry, for the Opies, was a book titled The Lore and Language of School Children, for which they collected insight, through interviews and observation, from over 5,000 children in schools across England, Scotland, and Wales in the 1950s.While there is no direct mention of a game called M.A.S.H. in the book, there are mention of some that indicate M.A.S.H.–like diversions aren't a concept unique to Generation Y. The children that the Opies observed six decades ago were fascinated by fortune-telling or divining games in general, most of which had to do with predicting whom they will marry or what job they will have."Idly one of us picked it up, put it on his finger… and said to it: 'Ladybird, ladybird, fly away home,/Your house is on fire and your children all gone.' The ladybird obeyed, as they always do—and yet it always seems like magic; and we were left wondering about this rhyme we had known since childhood and had never questioned until now. What did it mean? Where did it come from? Who wrote it?"
The Opies' ambitious catalogue of nearly all children's rhymes across time, The Oxford Dictionary of Nursery Rhymes, contains a rhyme that is even more basically the equivalent of modern day M.A.S.H., which dates back to the 15th century. It's called "Tinker Tailor Soldier Sailor," which might sound familiar due to le Carré and the movie of (almost) the same name. Like M.A.S.H., the game involves picking a random number—by all accounts it seems that children mostly used whatever cherry pits they had on hand to do this back in the day, for some reason, which they point to as they sing the rhyme—and counting out among desirable and non-desirable nouns, which are gendered."Another charm is that we take a piece of paper, and draw four lines down and four lines across to make nine squares. At the side of the squares, or on any spare paper, mark 'L' for Love, 'E' for Engage, 'M' for Marry, 'H' for Hate, 'K' for Kiss, 'A' for Adore, and so on until you have nine. Then ask the person what names he would like put in the nine squares (i.e. the names of girl friends he is interested in, and wants to find out about). Then ask how old will he want to be when he marries, and count round the nine squares [using that number]. When you come to the ninth square go back to the first again, and when you come to the number cross out the name in that square and put it against the first letter on the spare paper. Then count the number again starting at the following square and leaving out the one you have just marked off."
He's dismissive of the idea, put forth by a scholar named Henry C. Bolton in 1888, that divining games are primitive rituals that people no longer take seriously transformed into child's play. "There was a whole group of folklorists who were very much influenced by cultural Darwinism in the late 19th century. That's where we get meta-folklore ideas about 'Ring Around the Rosy' originating from the bubonic plague era and 'London Bridge' being related to human sacrifice. They were trying to show that ritual in modern society has become meaningless and that people continue it without its original spiritual and cultural meaning."Bronner says that these types of games do have a cultural meaning, at least to children. Interestingly, he says that M.A.S.H. in its current iteration probably arose around the same time as the television show M.A.S.H., which aired from 1973 to 1983. "I think the acronym of M.A.S.H. is a children's appropriation of popular culture. You often see these types of appropriations where something enters into popular culture and children want to claim it as their own, adjusting their rhymes and activities toward it," he explained. "For example, McDonald's had the 'Welcome to McDonald's' commercial [in the 80s] that quickly entered into children's jump rope rhymes. There was this idea that popular culture displaces folk culture and oral tradition, but these are examples, I think, that show it actually generates adaptations of traditions by kids."As he sees it, M.A.S.H. serves a fundamental function for adolescents by helping them address life's uncertainty. His view of the game we remember mostly fondly is kind of dark, in a "facts that just ruined your childhood" way. "Context is important when talking about this, but I can say fairly confidently in an American context that children are asked what they want to be when they grow up very early on, starting when they can walk," Bronner said. "It's not just parents spooking kids about providing for themselves or getting married, it's also systemic. Americans aren't alone in this: There's variations of this divining game in other places," like New Zealand's P.R.A.M, which stands for Poor, Rich, Average, or Millionaire," he said. "It's interesting to me symbolically that in the game you draw a swirl with a line [and count the intersecting points]. The swirl is a trope for transcending time. How many movies have you seen where there's a swirl representing the anxiety of someone moving through time?"How many movies have you seen where there's a swirl representing the anxiety of someone moving through time?
Behind the fun of wish fulfillment and finding out whom your friends have a crush on, M.A.S.H. and its predecessors are a psychological outlet for the societal pressures that are put on kids from an early age, especially girls. "In the 20th century, there was a lot of pressure on girls to find out who they were going to marry. You see this represented in games like the one where you cut open an apple to see the seeds form the initial of your future husband. You also see it in jump rope games about who you will marry: Cinderella dressed in yella, went downstairs to meet a fella is a classic one. Even today, there's still this anxiety expressed for girls. M.A.S.H. seems to get at the fact that there's still the expectation of being the family nurturer with this image of being an independent woman," Bronner explained. The game as a sort of gamble between what are posed as the two options: "The game is not only about who you're going to marry or how many children you're going to have, but also what car you're going to have, or if you're going to have a house or apartment, which would represent a life of independence."He says the game hasn't gone away since we played it in our youth, either—which is surprising, given that kids these days could just download Pokémon Go or something. "There were predictions, particularly toward the last century, that these kinds of games would disappear as kids were more involved with television and electronic devices, that they wouldn't rely on these types of paper games. But here it is," he said.